Chapter 135 - The Ripened Heart (2)

“Here.”

Rem began without caring who was watching. They were right in front of the tents, out in the middle rather than tucked away in a corner. He took Encrid’s wrist, placed his hand over his own heart, and twisted his lips into a smile. How to describe it? The smile itself was full of impish mischief. Then he began whispering to Encrid, so softly that Encrid would barely have heard him before training his hearing with Jaxon. Getting his words across at such a low volume was a talent in itself. He had seemed to be ignoring the onlookers. Had this been his plan all along? “What you need is faith. After that, you make your heart explode. If your heart of the beast has ripened, set it off without letting it break.” Rem chose only the words Encrid needed to hear, saying nothing about the shamanic effect involved. Encrid did as he was told. Without faith in Rem, he would never have mastered the heart of the beast in the first place. Rem liked that about him, too. There was sincerity in Encrid’s attitude, his answers, his actions. The sincerity of someone who always gave his all. But taking that approach this time would ruin everything. “You’ll have to take it slowly.”

Rem’s warning was as keen as a blade. His tone held an unprecedented seriousness, entirely unlike his impish mischief. It left an impression on Encrid. It must be awfully dangerous, then. So he made his heart beat slowly. But could he control his heartbeat at will? That was when he began to feel Rem’s heart beating beneath his palm.

THUMP, THUMP!

It was explosive. The energy within that heart seemed to flow distinctly into Encrid through his hand. “Try the same thing. Just a quarter as much.”

So this was it. Encrid waited for the sensation. The sensation of making his heart beat. It could not be explained in words or expressed through gestures. All Rem could do was demonstrate it with his own body and pass it on. It belonged entirely to the realm of feel. And so...

“I think I was worrying over nothing,” Rem muttered.

Should he have expected this? “One more time,” Encrid said.

After that, they stood still with their palms over each other’s hearts, until the sun had passed its zenith and begun to sink. “I’m genuinely curious. Sometimes I wonder if you’re doing this on purpose. Am I imagining things?”

“Hmm.”

Encrid let out a brief groan. “I agree with him.”

Ragna concurred from beside them. “Even I find that difficult to deny, my mad brother.”

“Agreed.”

Audin and Jaxon nodded as well. Being accused of doing it deliberately felt a little unfair.

“You’re not refusing to do something you can do? You really can’t?”

Rem’s question was serious. Encrid answered just as solemnly.

“Yes.” “... Well. Tch. All right. Let’s try again tomorrow.”

It was already dinnertime. Thanks to the consideration of the Battalion Commander and the soldiers around them, they did not even have to take a turn preparing meals. Naturally, they were exempt from other duties, too. That left them free to devote themselves to training and conditioning. Yet Encrid had made no progress. None at all. Not a single step, not even half a step. At least, that was what Rem thought. “What are you doing?”

“Are you actually trying? You’re not messing with me?”

“Come on, try it. I said, try it now.”

All he heard from Rem were variations on the same remarks. He could not get a feel for it. Not at all. Was that a problem? No, it was not. When had he ever learned a technique after seeing it once? While training his left hand through a repeating day a while ago, he had felt something like talent. As though talent had descended upon him. For that one moment, he had felt something in his body. That moment when left-handed techniques became part of him as never before. That brief, exhilarating time. Did remembering it leave him yearning for it? Truly, not at all. Not at all. He simply repeated, and repeated again, thinking things through over and over. Thinking alone kept him busy enough. “The Battalion Commander wants you.” Like any other day, it had been a day of pondering the same problem. A day when ripening the heart of the beast and making it explode did not come easily. It was the third day since they had established the camp. Only now had the Battalion Commander summoned Encrid. When he had called him the hero of the battle and such, he had acted as though he would summon him at once. Apparently, he had finally put the surrounding affairs in order. According to Krais, perhaps that was only natural. Marcus had probably been sick with worry while moving the camp and establishing their new position. When Encrid asked why, Krais launched into another long explanation. Condensed, it was simple.

“If they realize we’re only holding up a hand, they’ll eventually ignore us. We need to at least pretend to make a move so they can’t. If it were me... No, never mind.” Krais seemed to have an idea, but he kept it to himself. Encrid did not pry before setting off. If Krais wanted to talk, he would open his mouth in his own good time. Besides, answering the commanding officer’s summons had to come first. An adjutant came to fetch him personally. On the way to the tent, the Fairy Company Commander joined them. She approached on light, soundless feet and fell into step beside him.

“When was our engagement ceremony again?” There she went again. He could never understand Fairy humor.

“Let’s set it for ten years from now.”

“Hmm, not bad. But I prefer young humans to old ones.” Wouldn’t Encrid have to find Fairies attractive for anything to happen between them in the first place? Her beauty was inhuman, certainly. But that very inhumanity made it a face he could not quite warm to. Green eyes shone like jewels between long, fine lashes. Her blond hair cast a pale glow, and the skin revealed between those sunlit strands did seem to shine. Hence, inhuman beauty. “Let’s go.”

Encrid conceded defeat. If he insisted on pursuing it, the wordplay could go on forever, but it felt like a waste of energy. The Fairy Company Commander seemed content to tease him just this much. To be honest, it did not make him particularly uncomfortable. This was simply the kind of person she was. She was saner than Rem, but surely there could be a half-mad Fairy among her people, too. “Let’s.”

With the adjutant leading the way and the Fairy Company Commander on his left, Encrid entered the tent. “You’re here.”

Battalion Commander Marcus was waiting inside. Campaigning had left him with an untidy beard. The sight reminded Encrid that his own chin had grown rather bristly. Thinking he ought to shave when he got back, he offered a military salute: a bow of the head with his hand pressing down on his sword hilt. “Good.”

Marcus gave a casual nod. The three of them stood together.

“Bring us some tea.” At his order to the adjutant, three cups of tea were soon set before them. No one could have called it fine tea with a straight face, even under pain of death, but this was a battlefield. Drinking tea at all was a luxury. “Not having good tea usually irritates me when I’m out fighting. This time, even this is satisfying.”

Marcus spoke first. There were no seats set out, so they stood around the table used for discussing strategy and tactics. “What do you say to working under me in earnest?”

Encrid had barely swallowed half a sip when the Battalion Commander, who had been doing all the talking, abruptly made his offer. The Fairy Company Commander remained silent. Encrid looked at Marcus, trying to find the right words, then gave up. Since when had he talked his way into a superior’s good graces? “I must decline.”

“Why? I’d say I’m a fairly solid patron.” He was not wrong. When Encrid had said he was going to see the Battalion Commander, Krais had outlined the situation, from why the summons had come so late to what Marcus would say. Wasn’t that practically fortune-telling? How was everything unfolding exactly as Krais had said? [“He’ll offer to take you under his wing. Preferably with our Company Commander there. Why invite her? To make it official that he’s taking you on and nurturing you, something like that. Why does he want you, Captain? Are you asking because you really don’t know?”] Krais had stopped speaking and given him a look that asked whether he truly had no idea. When Encrid merely stared back, Krais finally spoke in disbelief. [“What did you do in Cross Guard?”]

[“Fought. Infiltrated the place, set a few fires while I was at it. Picked up some intelligence on the way back.”]

[“Even assuming he doesn’t know about the Frog, what did you do behind our camp?”]

[“Fought. Killed the commander of the detached force attacking our rear, too.”]

[“And what did you do when you reached the front?”]

[“Fought. Why ask when you saw it all right beside me?”] As it happened, Krais had been trailing him everywhere, so he had seen it for himself. [“The Battalion Commander knows, too.”]

[“What?”]

[“He knows, Captain. About all the battles you’ve fought so far. How would knowing that make him feel? Would he want you or not?”] In that case, shouldn’t he be after Rem or the others? Still, Encrid soon accepted Krais’s explanation. It was something he could readily work out for himself. Rem and the other platoon members were uncontrollable, whereas he was a perfectly normal person. The reason he had been slow to catch on was obvious. He had been absorbed in making the heart of the beast beat anew. He had poured all his mental energy into training and conditioning. As a result, none of this had crossed his mind, but Krais’s timely explanation had spared him any surprise. “You seem to have expected this.”

At the Battalion Commander’s words, Encrid shook off his brief recollection and answered.

“To an extent. Yes, sir.”

“May I ask why you’re refusing?” If he gave his reason outright, would Marcus send him back before he could finish his tea? The warmth of the tea was making him feel a little better. It felt like a break after spending days focused on nothing but his heart. ‘Come to think of it, I only just managed to relax my shoulders.’

Had he been tensing them again? The thought occurred to him. Had the compulsion to learn become a chain binding him? A shackle keeping him from moving forward? He felt chains crumble and scatter with a rattle within his mind’s eye. Only a few seconds had passed, but when Encrid spoke, his heart was many times lighter than before. SLURP.

He took a sip of tea and raised his head. A light heart did not mean the words he spoke would carry little weight. For someone hoping to rise through the military, Marcus’s offer was more than a good opportunity. It was one that could not be passed up. Especially for someone who had started with nothing, as a mere lowly soldier. That was Encrid’s situation. Yet he explained his refusal. “I have a dream.” Something he held in his heart, even if those who heard it laughed. A dream he had never forgotten since taking up a sword. A dream that had borne fruit, nourished by burning desire. He had spoken of it countless times, but never with as much weight as now. Stained by ridicule, torn by dismissal, faded by mockery, and finally devoured until only shredded traces remained. Those traces now bore clear witness to their existence. Every day, they had been there with him in every step. “I intend to become a knight.”

And so Encrid spoke. At that moment, Marcus saw a vision. Gooseflesh prickled over his entire body, and behind Encrid he saw another backdrop. A battlefield. A sword. Something shining. ‘What is this?’

Words spoken in earnest, with everything he had. Not merely a refusal, but the words of someone moving forward. Marcus had once held something similar in his heart. Something he had given up on in his youth. What had his life originally been? He had wanted to become a sword for the royal family. And what was his life now? GRIND.

Marcus ground his molars without realizing it. His jaw clenched so tightly that his head throbbed. Confronted by a dream so pure that it shone, he felt as though he were the one being questioned.

‘Am I worthy of having this man under my command?’ Hadn’t his offer come from nothing more than a sordid desire to rise, to gain a higher position and greater power? He had no true loyalty. No dream of greater heights. Content to settle for the present, he had no business taking someone like that under his wing. That brief realization opened Marcus’s mouth of its own accord.

“Hah.”

Something laden with emotion escaped in a sigh. Keen perception was a Fairy’s forte, and she understood the meaning of Marcus’s sigh.

‘With a few words?’ The human heart was like waves whipped by a typhoon. Humans could never be constant like Fairies. They were fickle creatures who changed what had been decided on a whim. The heart of the human called Battalion Commander seemed to be just like that now. A sailboat caught in a storm, riding the waves precariously, unable even to find its bearings. Then:

“I will follow the path to knighthood.”

With those words, Encrid saluted. Marcus nodded reflexively at the sight, and Encrid stepped outside. The Fairy Company Commander worried that Marcus might harbor envy or jealousy and do something untoward. Humans could change that way, too. “Whew.”

Marcus let out a deep sigh, then stood frowning for a long time. By the time the tea in his hand had gone cold, he let out a second brief sigh—“Hah”—and laughed, oblivious to the Fairy Company Commander still beside him.

“Well, now.” In his words, she heard the laughter of someone who had resolved something. Indeed, the smile on his face was unburdened. Then he suddenly asked:

“What do you think? Will he become a knight?” “I don’t know. That is up to him.”

“They do say Fairies speak plainly, don’t they?”

Rather than hide the truth, Fairies were said to wield it as a weapon. “My blood hasn’t boiled like this in a long time,” Marcus muttered.

What would happen when his blood boiled? Marcus belonged to the aristocratic faction in both name and fact. Naurilia professed to be a centralized state, yet the nobility was said to have usurped part of its power. With the nation’s strength divided that way, it struggled in its war against the Principality of Aspen. “Aren’t you leaving?”

“I am.”

After the Fairy Company Commander left, Marcus walked over to a chair and sat down. A few words had left his back soaked with sweat. He felt like shit, yet good at the same time. And he had made his decision. ‘Become a knight?’

He could not laugh at that. How could he ridicule a man’s dream, spoken with such sincerity and conviction? It had simply stirred him. ‘Good. Then I’ll...’

Instead of that damned aristocratic faction, he would move toward something truly new. He had wrestled with it for a long time. The two paths laid before him. The signposted fork where he had yet to make his choice. Marcus reached inside his clothes and withdrew his hand. It held a letter. A letter received quite some time ago and ignored. A trace of the past he had kept because he could not bring himself to throw it away. “Good.”

Holding the letter, Marcus’s eyes shone. The eyes of his younger days, burning with passion. At the bottom of the unfolded letter, the royal seal could just be seen.