Chapter 140 - Sure, Why Not

"You'll be learning the dodging sense this time." While Ragna had told him to keep both swords on him at all times, Jaxon had begun teaching him something else. It was probably one of the things he had mentioned on the day they killed the Giant. Encrid learned both at once. There was no particular need to learn them separately. Jaxon's lessons didn't interfere with his other training. Apparently, improving his ability to see moving objects came first: Jaxon would write something on a stone and throw it, and Encrid had to read it aloud. Of course, it wasn't easy. Still, he doggedly improved little by little, until he could now make out the writing on the flying stones quite clearly. That, too, was possible thanks to the experiences he had accumulated. Experiences that awakened his talent. Things he had accomplished through faith that he could do it, and confidence in himself. A stone was flying toward his forehead just as a shout rang out.

"Surprise attack!" Encrid snatched the stone out of the air. "Enemy soldiers!" FWEEEEET! "Incoming arrows! Heads down!" Amid the voices of commanders and startled soldiers, Jaxon spoke.

"What does it say?" This one was relentless, too. Encrid had both swords at his waist and his leather armor on. However relaxed things were, he couldn't go about without his basic equipment. Esther disliked the smell of sweat that had soaked into his armor, but this was still a battlefield. Fighting could break out at any moment. He turned as he answered.

"Cra."

"Good." Jaxon rose as he replied, but someone else dashed out faster than either of them.

"Where are they?!" Rem. Eight days had already passed. Between sparring with Encrid and dealing with Andrew, he wasn't exactly frustrated, but he was bored. The barbarian from the West raced out, thrilled at the prospect of swinging his axes. Who knew? Another Giant might turn up somewhere. What would he do then? That sounded like tremendous fun. His feet were light and his movements swift. He moved faster than any commander or soldier, and Encrid headed toward the commotion as well. It was near the perimeter of their camp, in the direction of the enemy position. When Encrid arrived, he saw Rem whipping his head from side to side. He looked around as well, but there was no meaningful sign of anything, let alone enemy soldiers. Only a dead soldier lay there, an arrow lodged in his skull. "Where's the enemy?"

At Encrid's question, Jaxon also looked from side to side.

"Not here." Even Jaxon's eyes could find barely a trace. What did that mean? They hadn't attacked the camp at all. They had just shot arrows from a distance and left? One of their soldiers had died, true, but was this really effective? RUSTLE. There was movement in the thick brush beyond their perimeter. Not enemies, but allies. The men with eagle insignia on their shoulders, the Frontier Slaughterers, were on the move. "After them." They set off at the words of a man who appeared to be their commander. Watching them enter the brush, Encrid thought every step resembled Pin's. They all had the air of rangers, perhaps. At the very least, this was a unit with those skills. "What the hell?"

And there stood Rem. An utterly disgruntled Rem, his eyes narrowed into slits. "Don't."

Encrid dealt with the most urgent problem first. Left alone like that, Rem might cause another uproar.

"Come here." He stopped him and called him over. Rem looked so irritated that Encrid could almost see his gray hair bristling upright. Then Rem snorted and turned.

"Those enemy bastards play dirty." As he spoke, he glanced at the ally with the pierced skull. There was no pity in his eyes. He was looking at the arrow.

"They brought that crazy fuck back for this bullshit." From his expression, it looked as though he recognized the arrow.

"Who is it?"

"Don't remember?" Encrid tilted his head. Rem might remember, but Encrid had lived through different todays than he had. There was no helping it when so much more time had passed for him. "That bastard, Claws of the Hawk or Nipples of the Hawk or whatever." Only then did Encrid look at the arrow. Its shaft was longer than most, its fletching extending straight back. He didn't need to examine the blood-soaked arrowhead to know it was no ordinary arrow. Rem scratched his chin. Some frustration lingered. A target he had let escape. He had once lived as a hunter. His eyes searched for traces of his target. Should he give chase or not? How long would it take from here? While he was judging the time, Encrid tapped his shoulder.

"How about a spar?" Let it go. They would meet someday. Then they could have a conversation. With axes rather than mouths, of course. "Let's do that."

Having calmed Rem down, Encrid turned back. WHOOSH. A stone flew past from behind Encrid's head. The little pebble flashed before his eyes and grazed Rem's forehead. When had Jaxon picked it up and carved something else on it? "Zy."

Though inwardly startled, Encrid read it aloud calmly. A moment's inattention and he would have missed it. "Good."

Jaxon nodded as he spoke. "Want to die? Watch where you're throwing rocks!"

Rem reacted. "Oh, you were there? Didn't see you."

Jaxon made no effort to hide that he was lying. The usual provocation.

"Enough." It was routine, but something had changed. Encrid no longer had to force himself between them. Words were enough now.

"Stop it, Rem." Just a little more forcefully than before, with a little more determination behind it. He had realized it while learning the Heart of the Superhuman: Rem listened to him better than he had expected. The same went for Jaxon. With him, one sharp look worked better than words.

"Yes. I'll be careful."

That was the answer he received. When they returned to the front of the barracks, Ragna, who had risen late, asked,

"Did something happen?"

Unless he was watching Encrid or sparring with him, he was as lazy as ever. "Enemy raid. They shot some arrows and ran."

"I see." Had the bastard even listened? He didn't look remotely interested. Was he fearless, or just thoughtless? 'The latter.'

If Encrid had to wager Krona, he would bet on the latter. He raised his sword upright. With his sword raised and his breathing steady, he threw himself back into sparring. Between bouts, he continued reading the writing on stones, loosened his muscles with the Balaf Style Massage Technique, and learned grappling, martial arts, and joint locks, without neglecting the Isolation Technique. Through it all, he kept both swords on him. "Form. You mustn't let your form slip. Whatever you do, form. No matter what you're doing, form. Form comes first. If it slips, you'll get hurt, brother. You don't want to become my Injured Brother Platoon Commander, do you?" Was that a threat to make fun of his title? Holding the Isolation Technique's positions with two swords on him was quite strenuous, but that was all. It wasn't impossible. Then there was no problem, was there? At least, not for Encrid. The sun was beginning to sink in the west when an allied soldier shouted,

"Surprise attack! Fuck!" The enemy had made another move. They might have been caught off guard the first time, but they should have been ready for the second. Yet another arrow flew in and pierced an ally's skull. The Border Guard responded. Specifically, a platoon composed entirely of men who excelled in this sort of terrain. But once again, they lost their quarry. "This isn't good."

Krais frowned when he heard what had happened. Encrid paid it no mind. Someone who fired arrows from far away and fled was difficult to catch. How were they supposed to catch someone who loosed a single shot from an unusual weapon, a longbow with an abnormally long range even for its kind, then ran away? He devoted himself to training. He didn't consider it his business. He scarcely had enough mental energy for the task at hand. "Ian."

Starting with "cra," he had now read all five stones. Put together, they spelled "crazy barbarian." "... I wrote all of these before I said I'd be careful."

Jaxon offered his excuse, such as it was. He spoke with his head turned and his eyes on the ground, leaving Encrid without the heart to scold him. "Let it go."

Instead, he merely stopped Rem. Seeing him silently draw an axe, Encrid suspected he would throw it if left unchecked. The day passed, and the next was much the same. Training or sparring. The occasional enemy raid. Beside him, Krais kept muttering that this wasn't good. Encrid began training in earnest with Jaxon.

"The dodging sense ultimately means developing your ability to evade. You do that by building anticipation through experience and improving your body's coordination. Your goal is to see and move simultaneously, and dodge." Encrid was watching him, wondering what he was supposed to dodge, when Jaxon drew his sword. SHING. Light reflected off the blade as Jaxon asked,

"Will you be doing this with both swords on?" Was that concern, or a warning? Perhaps both.

"Go ahead." Encrid would endure whatever came. Knowing that, Jaxon nodded inwardly and decided to pass on one of his skills.

"Fail to dodge, and you'll die."

One more remark carrying both warning and concern. WHIZZ. After the sound of air being pierced, Encrid saw a point. A tiny point shot toward him. Even though he had activated Concentrate on a Single Point, splitting time into slivers— TICK. "Next time, you really will die." The sword's tip touched his forehead. He hadn't moved a muscle. Swiftness? Speed? No, this seemed to be a slightly different problem. A stab that was nothing but a point. Speed alone couldn't accomplish that. What should he call it? He had seen Rem's axe strokes curve like a whip, and slice through the air as a flash of light. He had seen enemy stabs and dodged flying whistle daggers. Jaxon's stab was unlike anything he had experienced. It almost felt like magic, as though he had folded space and delivered the blade with a casual jab. The sword came without the slightest sign or warning. "Again."

Encrid's eyes blazed. Something new. He was always ready to take it in. "If you don't dodge, you really will die."

Jaxon kept saying it, but Encrid never actually died. Was this business as usual? Or should one say he never changed? Whether the enemy fired arrows and harassed them three or four times a day, whether it troubled the allied troops, even as the Border Guard's efforts failed time after time, Encrid devoted himself solely to training. Could he not see the stab? No. He could see it. He certainly could. He simply couldn't dodge it. What he needed now was coordination, just as Jaxon had said. To drastically shorten the time between seeing and evading. Once he saw it, his body simply needed to respond. Then why couldn't he dodge Jaxon's sword?

"It's called the Intentless Stab. You won't need to learn it." Jaxon said it casually, but his words only fueled Encrid's enthusiasm.

"When can I learn that?"

"Finish this first, then ask."

"All right." The Intentless Stab was a high-speed stab devoid of killing intent. That was why his body, which had generally reacted to killing intent until now, froze. Without killing intent, he sensed no threat, so his body failed to respond properly. This training was meant to let him summon that response deliberately, whenever he willed it.

"Just see it and react." It wasn't as easy as it sounded. Still, he was making gradual progress. At a literal crawl, but Encrid could feel himself changing. How could that not be exciting? Especially when Jaxon said,

"You are improving."

Compared with his other teachers, Jaxon was kind and generous with praise. In truth, that was the nature of the training Jaxon knew. With steady effort, and a willingness to keep going while staking half one's life on it, improvement was possible to a degree. Yet through all of it, one question kept troubling him.

'Why am I doing this?' Watching Encrid, he couldn't leave him alone and found himself intervening. But his inability to understand why he helped him bothered him. He had been trained since childhood to have a sound reason for every action. Now he was doing the exact opposite. 'Do this first.'

Jaxon put his questions aside. For now, simply watching Encrid was satisfying. A satisfaction he had never known in his life. Kill people, then kill more. Afterward, confirm the kill and search for information. That was the work he had done. Through every moment of it, he had felt nothing. This feeling was new. How could he not be excited? That was why a smile rose to his face as he stabbed. Encrid had no chance to notice his smile. Only Rem, Ragna, and Audin nearby saw it. "That bastard's going to kill him."

Rem spoke, feeling strangely resentful. "He's sparring too much. I think it's my turn."

Ragna voiced his own desires. "Ho ho. Our brother seems to be enjoying himself. Still, balance matters in all things. One must practice moderation. As the Lord said, what happens when the scales tip...?"

Audin was growing long-winded, too. All three had grown sulky. Krais watched them.

'This really isn't good.' They might swing their swords without a care, but the unit's situation was turning into dogshit. It would be nice if the commanders or the Border Guard handled it. Did they have no one with a brain, or did no one intend to use theirs? 'Seriously, how long are they going to stand around watching?' As far as Krais was concerned, there was a way out. Leaving things like this would only invite needless danger. Why were they doing nothing? There was no helping it. "Excuse me, Captain." Krais had no desire to remain here and endure the danger. More than anything, it was all so obvious that he couldn't simply let it pass. "Hm?"

Drenched in sweat, Encrid turned his head. Krais paid no attention to the fire in his eyes or anything of the sort. "Would you consider making a suggestion to the higher-ups?"

What was this about? Encrid tilted his head. "I don't think anything good will come of letting time pass like this..."

Krais began explaining. In a brief account, he laid out the unit's potential and what it could do. "... So we have the mobility. I think it could work, as long as they can be kept under control." It was straightforward and simple. Encrid nodded. Experience had taught him time and again that this fellow with the big eyes wasn't interested solely in Krona. "Sure, why not." There were plenty of things he wanted to test anyway. This could be a good opportunity. Naturally, he agreed readily. "Good."

Krais spoke as though he had been somewhat nervous. Encrid nodded calmly. What was so difficult about it? The decision was up to command anyway.