Chapter 139 - The Eighth Morning

The Balaf Style Massage Technique. That was the real name of blood, sweat, and tears.

“May I ask what else this Balaf invented besides martial arts and massage?”

“He developed techniques for blunt weapons, too, but those were apparently so poor that no one practices them anymore. He also compiled many texts, including interpretations of scripture.”

Balaf was a celebrated figure in Audin’s temple. His deeds belonged to the realm of legend, so most people would never know his name unless they studied such things. But it was a familiar name to those connected to the god he served. And now, of course, it was familiar to Encrid, too.

Audin’s hands pressed firmly into him. At first, Encrid had nearly gone boating with the ferryman of the black river, but after drawing a deep breath and enduring it, he found the pain bearable.

“You begin by pressing the most painful area.”

Audin smiled again as he spoke.

“Then you gradually move to less painful spots. As you do...”

“Mm.”

“The knotted muscles loosen.”

A pleasant lethargy settled over him. Each touch of those thick, bearlike hands loosened his muscles, fiber by fiber. Would this prove useful if he learned it properly? His overloaded muscles had been trembling and seemingly cramped from the Heart of the Superhuman, but now they began to relax. The pain subsided with them.

“You must spend the rest of today resting.”

It seemed he would have to. He had learned the Heart of the Superhuman properly, but using it recklessly put too much strain on his body.

Encrid gained a fresh glimpse of how remarkable knights were. They transcended human limits without techniques like this. Human on the outside, they wielded the strength of Giants, displayed the athletic prowess of Frogs, and possessed the keen senses of Fairies. Such were knights.

And now, the first light of dawn was stealing into Encrid’s faded dream.

“Why isn’t anyone trying to stop me from using two swords?”

The words slipped out as he grew drowsy. Whether he was on the right path or the wrong one, someone might have had something to say. Yet everyone remained silent. Ragna had even recommended that he use a sword and shield.

“Why do you think that is, brother?”

Perhaps it was a habit from his time as a priest, but Audin was forever answering questions with questions.

“I’m asking because I don’t know.”

Encrid’s voice sounded muffled where he lay facedown. Above him, Audin answered with a smile.

“From what I’ve observed, it is because you are stubborn, Brother Platoon Commander. Now, go to sleep.”

Stubborn? Him? Encrid could not accept that. Where would they find anyone as flexible and easygoing as him? Wasn’t the way he more or less kept the Lunatic Platoon under control proof enough? What would happen to this unit if he were mad, too?

But as Audin pressed near his neck, Encrid felt his awareness slowly drift away. It was nothing like fainting or dying, just a gradual descent into sleep, led by a pleasant drowsiness. There was no reason to resist. Rest mattered more than opening his mouth to argue, anyway. And so he fell asleep.

Audin rose after seeing that his Platoon Commander was asleep. They said stubborn people never realized when they were being stubborn. He certainly showed no sign of admitting it.

“You are an interesting man, brother.”

Audin murmured, then spoke toward the outside of the tent.

“How long do you intend to watch?”

Jaxon’s voice answered from just outside.

“I was watching the Platoon Commander. Not you.”

Audin nodded without taking offense and left. Jaxon stayed behind, staring at Encrid.

What a curious man. He naturally made you wonder what he might need. Made you want to help. Made you teach him—even if it meant sharing one of your secret techniques.

“He won’t need mine.”

Muttering, Jaxon left.

MEOW.

A small black panther slipped into Encrid’s arms once he was alone. He held Esther in his sleep and sank into a deep slumber.

He dreamed. People whose faces he could not see appeared and questioned him over and over.

“Is that right?”

“You think you’re on the right path?”

“Are you mad?”

“Stubborn fool. What are you doing when you know it won’t work?”

A nonsense dream. Encrid dismissed every question with a single answer.

“If I want to do it, I’ll do it. What business is it of yours?”

Rather than doubt, he would seek a way. And at the end of that search, he would take what he wanted. That was the path he walked. Besides, now he could even see signposts along it. This was the time to have more conviction than ever.

Encrid woke, opened his eyes, and muttered,

“I should at least tell them why I use two.”

He was not stubborn. Therefore, he would give them a sound reason.

He got up and tried moving. After sleeping the day away, he ought to be able to exert himself again. He went outside and began warming up.

The Isolation Technique, sword practice, the heart of the beast, the sense for the blade, Concentrate on a Single Point. To these, he added the recently learned Heart of the Superhuman. Keeping it active would wreck his body, so he used it in moderation.

As he resumed training, Audin emerged.

“Good morning, brother.”

The sun was slowly rising, changing the world’s colors from blue to yellow. The chill of dawn gradually gave way to warmth. Even before the temperature rose, steam wafted from Encrid’s entire body as he stood alone on the gravel outside the barracks.

Several sentries passed nearby, but none spoke to him. The platoon might be treated as war heroes, but none of them took kindly to being interrupted during training. Of course, that was true at other times, too. They were not called the Lunatic Platoon for nothing.

The soldiers nearby simply watched. These men deserved respect, and the soldiers gave it to them.

“Morning.”

Encrid, of course, focused on his own business rather than worrying about any of that.

Rem came out after Audin.

“Captain, oh Captain. Here I am.”

“Are you now?”

He was training right outside the barracks. What was the point of announcing his arrival? Anyway, Rem squatted nearby and watched. Jaxon began moving about, though no one knew when he had gotten up. Krais came next.

“Yaaawn. Still no word about going back today, either, I suppose. This isn’t good.”

Big-eyes stretched and yawned, muttering to himself.

The next platoon member to emerge was Ragna.

“Captain.”

He approached. Now that everyone was gathered, Encrid stopped. He had something to say. Because he was not stubborn.

“Must you use two swords?”

Ragna happened to ask as he approached.

Encrid nodded and answered,

“That’s the plan.”

Now, when Ragna asked why, he would answer. He was ready. Encrid stared at him. Well? Time to ask, wasn’t it?

Ragna did not ask. Silence fell, leaving Encrid no choice but to speak first.

“Dual wielding. I liked holding two swords better.”

Why had he wanted to become a knight? Because he admired them. Why had he liked swords? Because the moment he held one, he simply liked it. This was the same.

Something he had realized the instant he held two swords. When chance had led him to train his left hand, when he realized he could hold a sword in each, Encrid had felt a small bolt of lightning strike him. A moment of revelation.

'If I can use two swords...'

It felt like a perfect fit.

“I didn’t ask.”

Right. He hadn’t.

“Seriously, who asked?”

Rem snickered beside him. The barbarian bastard had been in a persistently good mood lately.

Yes, nobody had asked.

“I see.”

Big-eyes nodded belatedly, as though his soul had stepped out on business for a moment. This bastard didn’t seem to know what Encrid had even said.

Audin answered, “Yes, brother.” Jaxon paid him no attention whatsoever. He had produced a whetstone from somewhere and was sharpening his dagger.

SHING, TING.

Only those sounds greeted the morning sunlight.

“Hah!”

“Haaah!”

Perhaps because of a certain Lunatic Platoon Commander, more and more people nearby had begun training whenever they had time to spare.

Between the shouts and the sound of the dagger being sharpened, Encrid muttered again,

“Because I like using two better.”

“I told you, I didn’t ask.”

He wanted to say he was not being stubborn, but saying so felt oddly like admitting that he was. What should he do, then?

“Making both swords part of your body. That seems more urgent. Am I right?” Ragna asked.

Encrid settled the matter in his mind. He would simply be stubborn. For now, making both swords part of his body was the more urgent concern.

“Yes.”

“From now on, Captain, you have two lovers,” Ragna said.

Once again, Encrid was reminded how terrible his platoon members were at explaining things. They were hardly inarticulate, but they struggled to explain what they knew. Even this had taken a day to formulate.

Encrid recalled Ragna deep in thought in the barracks the previous night. Had he agonized that much just to say this?

Encrid answered,

“All right.”

Two lovers? No problem.

“Sleep holding both of them. Whether you’re eating, sleeping, shitting, or doing anything else, keep the swords in your arms and move with them there.”

He did not ask what sort of training this was. A genius had spent a day devising this method. Encrid trusted him and followed along.

“All right.”

He gave the same answer twice. Ragna’s face was slightly flushed. Those flushed cheeks reminded Encrid of a boy’s.

“Good.”

That was all Ragna had to say.

After that, Encrid followed Ragna’s instructions faithfully. He honed the Isolation Technique, learned the Balaf Style Massage Technique by suffering through it, practiced martial arts and swordsmanship, and worked tirelessly to extend the time he could use the Heart of the Superhuman. Through it all, he held his swords close.

He behaved as though he had found two lovers he could never bear to part with. Eating, sleeping, shitting—whatever he did.

HISSS.

Esther must have found it rather annoying, for she sometimes complained at bedtime. But Encrid did as he was told.

Seven days passed like that. There was no fighting, only the occasional exchange of news about the main army.

Around the fifth day, Krais spoke with a grave expression.

“This isn’t good.”

“Why?”

“The main army’s fighting is dragging on.”

“Why is that bad?”

Aspen’s military strength had never been something to dismiss. Even if internal problems kept Naurilia from committing its full might, withstanding the offensive of a nation that ranked among the great powers was no easy feat.

Having learned from experience, Krais kept his explanation simple rather than lengthy.

“We had a hand poised at the back of their head right from the start, and we still can’t press the advantage. On paper, we’re even the stronger side.”

“And?”

Krais’s eyes narrowed. His gaze seemed to say, Are you really going to keep asking that without thinking at all? Wait, why did it feel as though Encrid could hear his eyes speaking?

Still, he remained shameless. He was stubborn, after all. Encrid took Krais’s look in stride.

“Then what should our army do? As I see it, there’s only one option.”

“One?”

This man, seriously? Krais said as much with his eyes, while his mouth dutifully did its job.

“Actually smack the enemy in the back of the head. I think they’ll try something like a quick strike and withdrawal.”

That, Encrid understood. So the Cyprus Division’s Fourth Regiment, Fourth Battalion still had work to do. Border Guard’s standing army was not finished yet. There would soon be a need to fight.

Encrid answered as he smoothly swung his sword.

“I see.”

Anticipation. Something like that stirred within him. What had Aspen left in its rear?

That had been on the fifth day. Then, after seven days had passed, on the morning of the eighth—

“Surprise attack!”

The enemy came charging in.