Chapter 131 - One Sparring Session Changed the Course of Battle

Rem was exhilarated. Ragna had been spurred into a blaze of enthusiasm.

Audin felt he had heard an answer while sparring with Encrid. His prayers to the Lord had always been questions, with no answer forthcoming.

The Lord wielded silence as His weapon. It fell to them to find answers within that silence.

Still, Audin believed that sometimes, very occasionally, God did answer. Even without speaking aloud, He expressed Himself through other things.

Through that day's sparring, Audin had heard the answer from Encrid. That was how it felt.

'What can that man gain by striving so hard? Can his efforts bear fruit?'

One man's efforts had soon touched upon the questions Audin had wrestled with for so long.

'You told us to protect the weak, yet why do You not protect them? Why do You not grant them the rewards of their efforts?'

Strength and weakness, good and evil. Age-old questions.

Why did those he considered evil prosper, while those he considered good suffered?

He had seen the good fall, both weak and strong. He had seen evil flourish in the temple, supposedly the sanctuary and cradle God had made.

Why did God merely watch? Why did He not punish them? Why did those called Inquisitors bind only the powerless to carts with thorns? And why, again, did God merely watch?

Amid all this stood a man who lived by efforts as reckless as trying to drink a river dry. He always stood resolute before Audin, as unchanging as the sun rising each morning.

If God existed, He ought to give an answer. He ought not turn away from someone who lived burning himself so fiercely.

Had there truly been divine intervention? He did not know. Audin had no way of knowing. But even if there had not been, it did not matter.

Over the days he had known Encrid and lived alongside him, Audin, too, had learned something.

'The questions lie within me.'

The answers lay within him as well. Through their sparring, he felt he had found an answer to his own question.

To be perfectly honest, relief filled his chest. Enough that he could happily crush a few enemy soldiers' skulls in this mood.

Thus, sparring with Encrid had brought even Audin into the fray. It had brought Rem and Ragna out as well.

No one had known before, and no one would know afterward, but it was Encrid's fierce drive that had changed the course of this battle. Sparring with him had stirred every platoon member's heart and brought them onto the battlefield.

'Lord, today I send You those who will dwell at Your side.'

Killing could be a sin. Yet it could also be no sin at all.

Every religion reflected its times. The same held true for Audin. His god did not shun killing.

In other words, he could kill if necessary. He could spare none of his strength in sending attendants to serve at the Lord's side.

Audin strode forward. Allied soldiers recognized him, murmured among themselves, then fell silent.

"Those who have received a coin from the goddess of luck would do well to withdraw."

Audin offered kindness and mercy. The fog allowed him to see only what lay immediately ahead.

One enemy soldier looked at him and sneered.

"Trying to copy our Giant, are you?"

In a way, it could look like that. Audin smiled faintly. He was neither displeased nor offended.

Why grow angry when he could simply send the man to God's side and give him a chance to beg forgiveness? There was no reason for one man's displeasure to intrude upon this moment.

"I have no need to pretend to be anything else, brother."

"Your fucking brother?"

They faced each other three or four paces apart. Audin began a slow count.

"Five."

No one knew what the number meant.

"What are you babbling about? Die!"

The battle had begun with the Giant's arrival. Its fervor had reached the soldiers, too. The Aspen soldier who had traded words with him thrust his spear.

TAP.

Audin pushed the spearhead gently outward with the back of his hand. Guided along his hand, the spearhead's force lost its direction. The enemy nearly fell in an ungainly heap before recovering his balance.

"Four."

Audin continued counting.

"You son of a bitch."

That movement of his hand was no ordinary feat. The soldier signaled. He was a Squad Leader, and his squad promptly surrounded Audin.

The spear was the finest weapon an infantryman could carry. Every spearhead pointed at Audin. Ten men ringed a single target.

"Three."

Audin watched them and counted.

"You're completely mad."

Even as he spoke, the Squad Leader felt like shit. A prickling sensation ran down his back, and his stomach ached faintly.

What had that been earlier? Who knocked a spearhead aside with a bare hand? Was he wearing something on his hands? He did have thin white gloves on, but they hardly looked like combat gauntlets. And weren't those hands ridiculously large?

"Two."

The count dropped while he was thinking. The Squad Leader spat on the ground and spoke.

"Ptoo. Kill him."

The order came down.

"One."

The final number left Audin's lips as well.

This was a last consideration of sorts. An act of mercy and kindness, telling anyone who had picked up the goddess of luck's coin to withdraw.

'For today, at least.'

He had decided to answer the God of War's call. There would be no need to become the war god's apostle. This hardly warranted that.

Audin hoped the enemy would produce another opponent like the Giant. Having decided to invoke the God of War's name, it was only natural that his fighting spirit should crave a proper battle.

"Well, then."

An impassive remark amid the incoming spearheads.

At the same instant he said "one," Audin drew his weapons. They could hardly be called his cherished weapons. Those he had left behind when he departed the temple.

These were merely substitutes: oiled wooden clubs. They were neither studded nor made of iron, but they would suffice.

WHOOSH.

To the enemy soldiers thrusting their spears, Audin seemed to vanish. Of course, he had done no such thing. He had merely bent backward at the waist until he was almost lying down, evading the spears.

Three men had thrust simultaneously, all aiming for his chest. Displaying flexibility wholly at odds with his bulk, Audin pushed against the ground with the soles of his feet and rose, giving his club one light swing.

CLATTER!

One semicircular sweep of the club sent all three spear shafts tumbling to the right.

"Whoa!"

As the three spearmen lost their balance and staggered, Audin took another long stride forward. His club fell onto an enemy soldier's head.

THWACK!

One blow, one skull.

WHOOSH, THWACK! WHOOSH, THWACK!

One blow apiece, and three skulls burst. It happened in an instant. Despite his bulk, Audin was as quick as a squirrel.

"... Huh?"

What followed was much the same. Whether a spear or a throwing knife came at him, he casually dodged it or snatched it out of the air and threw it back. Then he closed in and struck a head with his club.

THWACK!

The skull burst like a pumpkin. No, the skulls were beginning to look softer than pumpkins.

A Naurilian soldier watching from behind marveled.

"He's a monster."

Dodge and hit. Everyone knew that was how you won. They simply couldn't put it into practice like that.

THWACK!

Another skull burst.

At first, he used only his two clubs. Then, when the enemy began shooting arrows and rushing him, he started using his feet as well.

From then on, it felt like watching a cavalry charge. Everyone who approached went flying.

"Ha ha ha ha!"

All the while, their monster let out hearty laughter.

"May the God of War's blessing be with you!"

And he shouted things like that, too. He seemed utterly, thoroughly mad. Of course, the Naurilian soldier watching felt relieved. That madman was on their side.

"All troops, chaaaarge!"

Command was quick to grasp the situation. With the tide turning, the entire army surged forward. Audin continued rampaging in the enemy's midst.

"You! Not another step!"

A few of the Gray Hounds' most accomplished fighters did attack him along the way. But...

"Welcome, brother!"

Audin extended a club in a slight feint, drew it back, then pivoted on his left foot and twisted at the waist to kick. His foot drove out in unison with a thigh like a tree trunk.

THUD!

CRUNCH!

A light kick to the midsection folded his opponent in half. What sort of kick had that much power? Was he walking around with iron greaves strapped to his legs?

That single blow folded a human body in half. Once folded, the man died of ruptured organs. Every tiny blood vessel in his face burst, turning his eyes red.

The man flew off to one side and knocked down three or four enemy soldiers.

"What the fuck?"

To the enemy, it was simply absurd.

And so Audin fought like an ant colony, one that devoured everything that approached.

* * *

The Fairy Company Commander looked straight at her approaching opponent. Another Fairy.

Meeting and fighting one of her own kind in a place like this was nothing remarkable. Times had changed. How many Fairies still lived huddled together in the forest as they once had?

Closed societies inevitably fell behind. Once they fell behind, they were forgotten. Gods and Fairies alike would live forgotten until, in the end, their homes fell into an invader's hands.

A choice made by one of the Fairies of an earlier generation had changed the lives of those who followed. Among them were those who exchanged the service of their Nidle for Krona. That meant working as mercenaries, or joining the military for some other reward.

Thus, Sinar, the Fairy Company Commander, considered herself little different from her opponent. Whether they sought Krona or something else, the fact remained that, once they faced each other as enemies, they had to fight.

"A needle sword?"

The leaf sword was a Nidle. The pointed sword made exclusively for stabbing was a needle. Both were weapons unique to Fairies. Two weapons made for different purposes now faced each other.

"So one of my own was here."

Aspen's Fairy was a sharp-eyed man. His hair was short, his mouth stubborn. Well, most Fairies were stubborn. Sinar herself acknowledged as much.

His sword point was red. Blood dripped from it onto the ground.

The troops had already drawn back in a circle around them. On one side stood a Company Commander. On the other, the army's hidden blade.

"Run, and I won't chase you down and kill you."

The man spoke. Looking at his bloodstained needle, Sinar drew her own sword.

SHING.

A Nidle. A leaf sword.

"I was about to say that myself."

Their swords soon met. The fight did not last long. Sinar was several levels above the Fairy wielding the needle.

Talent, skill, experience, finesse. In not one of those could the male Fairy surpass her.

After a few exchanges, the leaf sword's blade skimmed his throat.

SLICE!

The sensation left in her hand assured Sinar of his death. Clutching his throat, the Fairy pitched forward. Watching him, Sinar felt distinctly displeased.

'Bastards, aren't they?'

This had been bait. The real attack was meant to follow. While she fought this man, she had sensed at least three sources of killing intent directed at her.

In short, they used bait to draw attention and struck from behind. This was how they had been assassinating commanders. Their aim was all too obvious.

The only unexpected development was that his allies had failed to come before he died. That was why he had died with his eyes wide open.

'How vile.'

Of course, being vile could be an advantage on the battlefield. If it succeeded. Unfortunately for the enemy, they had lost their chance to demonstrate their vileness.

The killing intent had been there, then vanished. There were two possible explanations. Either the enemies had given up in advance and fled, or an outside force had intervened.

The answer was the latter.

She saw a man wiping his blade on a corpse's clothes. Brown eyes with a reddish cast. Reddish-brown hair, much the same color as his eyes.

Not a drop of blood had splashed onto his medium-length hair. In fact, Sinar, the Fairy Company Commander, had never once seen him drenched in blood. He was always immaculate.

Ah, his clothes had been disheveled when he spent time with whores. She had seen that once: him emerging just after finishing with a woman.

"Why are you here?"

"I had nothing to do."

Jaxon answered the Company Commander.

Was Jaxon any different? Watching Encrid, he had been deeply pleased with the man's growth. If he stayed beside him, he felt he would be unable to keep himself from saying so.

His tongue itched. His hands itched along with it. He wanted somewhere to work it off. As luck would have it, some men with a scent much like his own seemed to have stepped forward.

Jaxon had gone out through the fog, followed the Fairy Company Commander, and slit three assassins' throats.

It had not been difficult. They were Fairies, and by ordinary standards they could be called highly skilled. By Jaxon's own estimation, well, they were nothing special.

Rather than properly trained opponents, they were fighters who had polished their innate talents. In a way, they were the easiest sort for him to handle.

"You left your Captain alone?"

Jaxon tilted his head at the Fairy's question.

"If something like this could kill him, he'd have died long ago."

It was high praise. No different from saying he trusted Encrid. The man had reached a level where he no longer needed watching over.

'Next time.'

He would have to teach him something other than footwork. What training came after honing the senses? Once he had unlocked his Sixth Sense...

'Watch closely and react.'

Things that still took time and effort to master. Had he ever taught anyone those things properly? He did not think so.

"Whew."

In the midst of his thoughts, Jaxon sighed, wondering why he was taking this so seriously. He did not actually have to teach him.

Seeing that, the Fairy Company Commander spoke.

"This Battalion Commander is no idiot. He knows how to read the tide of battle and fight accordingly."

Did she think he was sighing because the troops were not moving? That was not it.

Jaxon was exceptionally good at hiding his thoughts. The Fairy Company Commander had not misunderstood his sigh. Would that Lunatic Platoon even care about such things?

Jaxon merely happened to be standing in front of her. And he had just demonstrated his skill by killing three assassins.

The Company Commander was saying that the tide was turning. Her words reached the soldiers around them, not Jaxon. The momentum would shift, and it would bring victory to their side.

"All troops, form ranks."

At her words, the five company soldiers who had followed as her bodyguards, only to stand around doing nothing, took their places behind her.

No sooner had she finished speaking than horns sounded on all sides and messengers broke into a run. Just as she had said, Marcus knew how to ride the tide.