Chapter 126 - Today's Victory Does Not Guarantee Tomorrow's (2)

A spark flared in Ragna's eyes. Enthusiasm, desire, or something else. Before Encrid could finish the thought, a sound reached his ears. WHOOSH. The sound of air being cleaved came first. By the time he heard it, the blade was above his head. Encrid moved too, holding his sword horizontally. Forged from a blend of Valeri steel and Noir wrought iron, it met a shabby, poorly made arming sword. CLANG. Blade met blade with a burst of noise, and they parted almost as soon as they touched. Ragna stepped back, and Encrid did the same. An exchange of greetings with their swords, perhaps. Yet that mere greeting left Encrid feeling he had glimpsed something new again. 'What would I call that just now?'

An incredibly fast strike? Or a downward cut with no warning? It was elegant. Beautiful. Exquisite. Ragna's sword had traced a cut that clean. Encrid's response had been the opposite. Not clean, but rough. Like a crude, unsharpened blade. Like an untanned hide. Still, he had seen it, and his body had responded. "Again."

Ragna's blade came at him along what looked like exactly the same path as before, without the slightest difference. A clean, beautiful cut. Encrid blocked in the same stance. CLANG! Sparks flew as their blades collided. A tingling shock ran through Encrid, and the instant their blades met again, Ragna's vanished. 'A snapping strike from the outset.'

Ragna commanded his sword at will. This move was no exception. What looked like a gentle downward cut had been a powerful snapping strike. Encrid had held his sword horizontally to block it, but both arms were tingling. In that opening, Ragna's sword curved like a snake and plunged downward, aimed at his thigh. A single snapping strike had numbed Encrid's arms. He was helpless to stop the next blow. Should he force his numb arms to move? No, that would be a mistake. He used his feet instead of his hands and leaped back, trying to gain a favorable position with his footwork. Drawing his right foot back and turning would put him on his opponent's flank. Ragna wasn't standing still either. He smoothly drew back his descending sword and stepped sideways. SHFF, SHFF. After steps that seemed to sweep across the ground, they stood facing each other again. If the fire in Ragna's eyes was some kind of passion, then what filled Encrid's eyes in return? 'Those eyes.'

Desire boiled up inside Ragna. Enthusiasm welled forth. He wanted to swing his sword. To converse not with mouth and tongue, but with hands and feet. With swords, with weapons, with killing intent, with determination. Those were the things he wanted to speak through. And Encrid welcomed it. 'Good. This is good.'

As Ragna marveled inwardly, Encrid felt something irrepressible bursting up inside his chest during their brief exchange. The greeting with their blades, the snapping strike, the struggle for position. Everything came together and nudged something in his chest. Then something began bursting forth throughout his body. What should he call it? Vitality? Vigor? He didn't know. Only one thing was certain: he was overflowing with strength. The greeting and the snapping strike had finished testing his wrist. A heavy impact lingered, but there was no pain.

'It's fine.'

Then all that remained was to join in. This time, Encrid moved first. He put everything into a stab, his determination to kill behind it. His left foot shot forward and every movement came together at once, sending his sword whistling out. The point split the air like a diving hawk. Ragna watched the approaching point and turned. There was nothing flashy about his footwork, yet his body evaded Encrid's stab. He smiled as he dodged, and Encrid smiled in satisfaction at seeing him evade it. From the sidelines, it looked like a series of very simple exchanges. Stabbing, cutting, dodging, taking position. TAP-TAP. Encrid's attacks were full of surprises. He abruptly closed the distance and tried to kick Ragna in the shin. When Ragna evaded, he went straight into half-swording, gripping the ricasso and blade. Ragna knocked aside, deflected, or dodged everything, then swung his sword. He swung it again and again, as though it were the only thing he knew how to do. 'Damn it.'

Rem stamped his feet as he watched.

'That looks so fucking fun.' Encrid had improved again. Something had changed in the few days they hadn't seen each other. Rem wanted to fight him. He wanted to face Encrid with his wrist intact. Just watching made the urge build. 'Take it easy. Easy.'

Rem grew anxious that Encrid might exhaust all his stamina fighting Ragna. That had never happened before, but wasn't this spar different? Something else was in the air. It wasn't like their sparring when Encrid's wrist had been injured. Everyone had been surprised then too, but Rem and the others had gone easy on him, making allowances. But now? 'Isn't that bastard getting a little serious?'

That was how Ragna's swordplay looked to Rem. Not as serious as when they fought each other, but this wasn't his usual lazy swordsmanship. Had he put in even half this effort against the enemy, their commander would have had the name Ragna engraved in his mind. 'You bastard, seriously. Ease up.'

Rem's hands itched. If the two of them hadn't been smiling, he would probably have charged in with his axes long ago. And he wasn't the only one whose blood was heating up at the sight. 'Why am I...?'

Jaxon denied what he felt. Had he ever liked fighting head-on? No. Never. He had diligently practiced swordsmanship, but had that ever been something his heart drove him to do? No. Training in swordsmanship and being driven to act by desire were different things. At least, they had been for Jaxon. His hand twitched. It kept trying to move. His body was responding to Encrid's steps, to the sword swung by the man he called his Platoon Commander. 'This isn't even funny.'

Such a sudden competitive urge. No matter how much Encrid had improved, Jaxon was confident he could beat him down right now. In his eyes, that lazy idiot Ragna wasn't doing his best. Had he been more serious, the fight would have ended long ago. So why was Jaxon's body responding to a fight like that? He clenched his teeth, his pride strangely stung. Gathering himself, he remained silent. He brought his twitching body under control as well and stood motionless, simply watching. While Jaxon steadied himself, Audin watched the fight with contentment and delight.

'It's about time.'

It seemed he could start using a little strength himself now. He felt no impatience, nor did he deny the competitive urge rising within him. 'For it was given by the Lord.'

The desire to fight was a good and beneficial thing for Audin. Without even that, his place now would have been beside the god he served, rather than beside Encrid. Though using divine power had cost him two days of dreadful headaches, he was inwardly satisfied. Just look at that. Wasn't the fully recovered Squad Leader moving in ways that made him marvel? The Fairy Company Commander didn't miss a single movement Encrid or Ragna made. As she watched, a thought arose.

'Was he a genius?'

It was a natural question. He certainly hadn't been this skilled before. She recalled their first encounter in the Medical Barracks, and the times she had faced him afterward. 'I thought he was merely lucky.'

Now his swordsmanship could no longer be dismissed. Even to her, he was exceptional. His skill stood out unmistakably, like a single crane among countless chickens. From what she had witnessed, she could call him a genius who had risen to this level in a very short time. 'No. Something's different.'

Her keen eye did find flaws in Encrid's movements. Habits a genius ought not to have. At times, a Fairy's senses could be sharper than a Frog's ability to read talent. She could see traces in Encrid that appeared only in those who had spent a truly long time swinging a sword without rest, thinking ceaselessly about it. Did one ever see such things in those creatures called geniuses? No. They were like Ragna now, with no deliberation behind the swords they swung. He was the very model of a genius. What, then, was Encrid? "Hah!"

Just then, Encrid shouted and attempted a one-handed cut to the crown. The strike carried all the deliberation born of repeating the same motion countless times. A cut that knew its present path was the best because it had tried this route and that. A cut certain this was the only road to its destination. CLANG! Their swords met. With a grating scrape, Encrid's blade slid to one side along Ragna's. A ploy? The Fairy's senses were right. Ragna forcefully knocked Encrid's sword aside, then immediately extended his own into a short vertical cut. In that instant, Encrid's left hand spat light. A bluish gleam, something springing from his hip, slicing through the sunlight. Magic wrought by tempering steel. It was his second sword. WHOOSH! In the end, Encrid's sword cut only air. The draw of his second sword had been terrifyingly fast, but even in that brief instant, Ragna's eyes had taken in everything. He evaded the strike by stepping back. It was a perfectly calculated retreat. Encrid's second sword merely swept through empty space in front of him. Then Ragna brought down the sword he had drawn back. The blow stole the timing and shattered Encrid's ploy. It couldn't be called a victory of tactics alone. This was a difference in their abilities. After all, fighting required more than mere strength. Perception, senses, experience, swordsmanship. Ragna had sensed and seen Encrid's left hand moving. Then he had moved his own hands and feet at a speed Encrid could not match. And that ended the spar. Seeing the fight end, the Fairy Company Commander grew a little impatient.

'I want to fight him too.'

Did she not have a competitive streak of her own? They had fought with hands and feet before, but now she wanted to cross swords. With a little seriousness mixed in. A sudden urge rose in her to show him the wondrous skill of her Nidle. How would Encrid change after seeing it? Watching from one side, Krais felt no competitive urge whatsoever. How could he, when he couldn't even follow their fight properly?

'He's improved.'

Still, even a layman like him could tell that Encrid's skills had grown enormously. 'Some kind of late-blooming genius?'

It was surprising, but that was all. Krais turned his attention from the spar to those around him. There was plenty of entertainment there. Rem stood up and sat down three times, then began stamping his feet outright. He looked fretful, like a child whose favorite toy had been snatched away. Beside him, Jaxon's shoulders twitched a few times. Then he suddenly went still as a massive stone statue. He didn't move so much as a fingertip, making Krais wonder if he was even breathing. How could someone stay that motionless, as though frozen solid? Watching him sent an odd chill down Krais's spine. Like being left alone in a cemetery on a pitch-black night.

'Ugh.'

Krais clicked his tongue for no particular reason, and his gaze fell on Audin. The huge soldier, immersed in God's teachings, was murmuring with an utterly contented smile. Krais moved right beside him to listen. "Mm, good. Now we can have a proper fight."

"A broken arm should be all right now."

"Snapping his neck... Ah, I almost sent him to God ahead of me. That won't do. No, certainly not." This time, Krais was genuinely frightened. Gooseflesh prickled all over him. What was the man talking about? Despite those words, he didn't look ready to charge in. What he muttered was pure horror, but his manner was composed. He stayed quietly where he was. Last was the Fairy Company Commander. The Fairy who had made those odd jokes now gripped her sword without taking her eyes off Encrid. Like a quiet forest, yet also a storm that might rise at any moment. That was Krais's impression. These people really were something. No crowd of spectators gathered. In the days following their victory, their soaring morale had subtly settled. With no knowing when another battle might break out, everyone was busy tending to their own gear and preparations. A few soldiers turned to watch, but showed little interest. Hadn't these men already demonstrated their skill? Hadn't the soldiers watched them spar when Encrid returned from the rear? They couldn't see much difference from then. Those with a discerning eye were busy, and the rest had no inclination to watch. There were no noisy spectators. But spectators, the sense of an approaching battle, the atmosphere—none of that mattered in the slightest to this group. Even knowing they would soon have to take the field under these circumstances...

'They're all desperate to fight each other.'

And all of them had their sights on just one opponent: Encrid, their Platoon Commander, who had only just recovered from all his injuries. 'Do they think at all?'

That didn't mean Krais was going to scold them. He was careful not to provoke them even at the best of times. Now, he was more careful still. The heat building among them was considerable. 'Will he be all right?'

Even Krais could see that the spar with Ragna had been intense. Surely Encrid ought to rest afterward. But if he said he was stopping to rest, Rem would definitely throw a fit. The others didn't seem likely to take it well either. Krais needn't have worried.

"Next."

Drenched in sweat, Encrid beamed. Unable to contain the strength surging through his body, he wanted to push himself like mad. At that, Rem leaped. He actually sprang off the ground and rushed forward.

"My turn! My turn! I'll kill anyone who cuts in! Company Commander or not!"

He had gone wild. The Company Commander stopped just as she was about to step forward. She decided to exercise the virtue of yielding. That was all right. Now that she looked, Encrid seemed to have no intention of resting either. Encrid was put through his paces that day. Happily, just as he wanted, he crossed blades, swung his swords, and demonstrated his dual wielding. "Serviceable."

The Fairy Company Commander got her chance too. She even offered a brief assessment of his use of two swords. It didn't end with one round, either. Ragna twice, Rem three times, Audin twice, the Fairy Company Commander once. Those were the number of bouts each fought with Encrid, except Jaxon, who never did step forward. Krais could only click his tongue in amazement. The sparring finally ended around sunset. Did they never tire? Once it was over, Encrid collapsed, sprawled on the ground. Esther, who had appeared at some point, saw him and glared fiercely at everyone. Her look seemed to demand what they had been doing to let him get into this state. No one paid it any mind. And Encrid could not have been more satisfied.

'Their expressions.'

When had it been? After returning from scouting the tall-grass fields? Watching Rem and Ragna spar then, he had noticed that their expressions were different from when they sparred with him. Ever since then, he had wanted to draw those expressions out. Today, at last, he had. Of course, none of them, Rem and Ragna included, had used their full abilities. He knew that perfectly well. But he had seen it. The change in their expressions. Their laughter, their smiles, their satisfaction. It felt like achieving one small goal. Encrid felt elation. Pleasure. Joy like a drug. The fulfillment earned through growth filled his chest. Perhaps he had pushed himself too hard, though. That night, he had another fucking nightmare.