Chapter 152 - What Makes a Knight Different?

On her way back, Aesia did think he was rather unusual.

'I think that's a first.'

A man who had endured with nothing but his body, despite not knowing how to wield a knight's power. He hadn't overcome the intimidation. He had merely withstood it.

No, once it was all over, she had noticed that he had even moved his foot forward half a finger joint's length. She was a proto knight; her keen eyes caught even an opponent's smallest movements.

He had tried to come forward. To advance. How many soldiers could do that? Were there any at all? She doubted it.

'Well, hmm. If he ever grasps it, he could become a monster.'

But that was hardly easy.

'Forget about it.'

That Frog had stayed behind. He would see to it. She had been asked a favor and had done her part. All that remained was to return.

And so Aesia put Encrid out of her mind. There was no need to remember him. She had liked his spirit and his steadfastness, though. His face had been especially to her liking, too.

'We won't meet again.'

Talent was truly merciless. The goddess of luck was always unfair.

CLOP-CLOP.

The horse carrying her struck the ground with its hooves and moved on. It was time to return.

* * *

'Why?'

Vengeance felt inexplicably anxious and uneasy. A Knight had come to see Encrid and assess his skills, along with a Frog who was supposedly a talent reader. Harsh words had followed.

'Why go that far?'

Did they want him to lose his motivation? Did they dislike seeing him so devoted to training? Vengeance couldn't begin to guess what Battalion Commander Marcus was thinking.

Why torment Encrid when he hadn't done anything? Were they telling him to quit because he couldn't become a knight, because his limits were clear? Why? Why bother?

Vengeance knew nothing of Encrid's dream, nor of his conversation with Battalion Commander Marcus. Naturally, he had questions. Encrid had never hidden his faded dream, but neither did he shout it into the ear of everyone he met.

"That bastard of a battalion commander has a nasty streak."

Vengeance cursed Marcus anyway and headed for Encrid's quarters.

KNOCK, KNOCK.

"It's me, Vengeance."

"Huh? It's the ugly platoon commander. What brings you here?"

He knocked, and Rem came out to piss him off. He had to ignore it. If he engaged, he would only end up picking a fight.

And how would that end? Encrid had stopped after driving a knee into his thigh once, but with Rem, he couldn't readily imagine it. The bottom line was that he mustn't pick a fight.

"Where's Enkie?"

"Sleeping."

Wasn't he unconscious, rather than asleep? And why was this bastard so calm? Vengeance had expected him to rant about taking an axe to Marcus's neck for needlessly breaking his platoon commander's determination.

Then again, rather than sit around the quarters seething, he would have swung his axe long ago. He was that sort of man.

Inside, the fellow named Ragna was asleep again. Vengeance looked to see if he really was sleeping. Sound asleep, in fact. He wasn't snoring, but his chest rose and fell with steady breaths.

Off to one side, Jaxon was rolling tobacco leaves. Such care.

Vengeance had heard that a woman named Pin had joined them, but she was out. Krais wasn't there either. He could see only the Frog he had seen on sentry duty that morning.

It was almost noon, nearly lunchtime. Had the Frog decided to settle in here? They were so much more relaxed than he had expected that it felt strange.

Shouldn't they comfort Encrid when he woke? Or avoid mentioning it altogether? Were they planning to brush it aside as though it had never happened?

Vengeance glanced around and cleared his throat. Right on cue, Encrid woke. Opening his eyes, he slowly got up.

"Oh, you're awake."

Vengeance reacted first. Then Rem rattled off:

"They said you can't become a knight. Not even this much of a chance. Not so much as a Ghoul's brain."

"Ah, you're awake, brother. Have some of this."

Beside him, the fellow named Audin held out some bread. Wherever he had found it, it looked white and moist. Vengeance had heard a decent bakery had recently opened in the city. Perhaps he had bought it there.

No, wasn't this the wrong time for such talk? Ragna kept sleeping. Jaxon carefully stacked his neatly rolled tobacco leaves in a leather case.

"Mm, right."

Encrid was calm. He answered without concern, bit into the bread, and got up to head outside.

The Frog, who had been watching silently, spoke.

"They said you can't become a knight. Are you all right with that?"

Encrid turned his head back and lowered his chin, then raised it. He nodded.

"Yes, well enough."

He didn't know the other's status, but anyone accompanying a proto knight must at least belong to a knight order. And a Frog acting as a talent reader would hold a position on par with a noble. Encrid considered this as he answered.

He showed not the slightest sign of shock. Vengeance, who had somehow ended up blocking the doorway, blinked at him.

"Here to avenge last night's defeat?" Encrid asked.

"No, that's not it."

He couldn't easily bring himself to say he had come out of concern.

"What's this, ugly platoon commander? Been sharpening your blade for revenge? Then come at him."

Rem egged him on for no reason, but Vengeance didn't take the bait. Hadn't he already tried? The bruise on his thigh hadn't even faded yet.

Encrid went outside. Vengeance stared blankly after him, then turned back.

"Well, aren't you going to comfort him or something?" Vengeance asked, looking at Encrid's retreating back.

Even if not comfort, shouldn't they at least worry? What if he put down his sword? What if he gave up? What if he quit? What if this needless talk about his lack of talent drove him to despair?

Vengeance knew how ridiculous this was. Who was he to step in like this? What did it matter to him whether Encrid quit?

It was simply that what he had happened to witness troubled him. No one had put him up to this, and he hadn't calculated his actions. It was how he felt. He simply couldn't stand by and watch.

Rem snickered at his question. That laugh was just like always. He wasn't faking it.

"Comfort who? The platoon commander?" Rem said.

"Ha ha, brother. You really don't know Brother Platoon Commander," Audin added.

"The platoon commander is the platoon commander." Even Jaxon chimed in.

"Yaaawn. Where's the platoon commander?"

Ragna had woken and asked as if nothing were amiss. Vengeance reflexively pointed outside.

"Gone out, then. Training?"

How would Vengeance know? Without waiting for an answer, Ragna bent his neck from side to side, took his sword, and moved. Vengeance stepped aside again. Ragna went out without so much as a greeting.

What was this? He felt rather ignored.

"The platoon commander will be fine," Rem finished.

The Frog responded to that.

"How can you be sure?"

"Experience."

After that brief exchange, the Frog rose from his seat. Experience. Didn't that mean you would know once you had seen it for yourself? Then he only needed to go out and see how this Encrid actually behaved.

The Frog went outside right after Ragna. Vengeance's thoughts were tangled. Could someone really be unaffected by hearing such a thing?

"How good was our platoon commander before? Does his current level make any sense? Well? What does the ugly platoon commander think?"

Rem kept talking. Rolling around on his bed, he spotted Esther and tried to poke her for no reason. Esther bared her claws and swiped, but Rem whisked his finger back out of reach.

Esther fixed her blue eyes on him. Rem smiled and showed his palm. It seemed to mean he would stop pestering her.

Vengeance stared at them, gave some offhand reply, and turned away.

'Must be nice being handsome, you bastard.'

Something like that, he thought. Why did Rem keep giving him shit about being ugly? Looking at the bastard had made his temper flare. How could someone so skilled have a face like that, too?

Ah, there was one saving grace. The man's personality was something else. They weren't called the Lunatic Platoon for nothing. Vengeance had the better personality, however you looked at it. The world just failed to appreciate that.

As he headed back to his own quarters, all sorts of thoughts came to him. Rem's last words in particular stayed with him.

["How good was our platoon commander before? Does his current level make any sense? Well? What does the ugly platoon commander think?"]

TAP, TAP.

It made no sense. No matter how he thought about it, it made no sense. Especially the speed of his growth.

What had Encrid been like before? A pitiful idiot who swung his sword every day, struggling desperately without getting anywhere.

["I'd have retired long ago."]

The soldiers watching had even said things like that. Vengeance remembered those words, too. Back then, quite a few men had insulted Encrid without hesitation.

["How the fuck did that moron become a squad leader, anyway? Must have one hell of a hole to fuck."]

One man's words had filled him with a sudden surge of disgust. Vengeance hadn't liked Encrid back then, but...

["You don't even have the guts to swing a sword every day, and you insult him with that bullshit? You sick bastard."]

What had he done to that bastard? Right. Beaten him to a pulp. Just because he didn't like any of it. That bastard, the things he said, Encrid, or that stubborn persistence in swinging a sword every day.

There had been many who bad-mouthed Encrid then. As it happened, one of them was right in front of him.

"You there."

The soldier approached at his call.

"Yes, Platoon Commander."

"Do you think Platoon Commander Encrid's current skill makes any sense?"

"... Sir?"

"His skill."

"Uh, well, he's improved."

There were different feelings now in the eyes of the soldier who had once insulted Encrid. Admiration and enthusiasm.

"Why do you think he's improved?"

"Sir?"

'What's with this idiot?'

Reading those words in the soldier's expression, Vengeance shook his head.

"Never mind."

He sent the soldier away and thought. In truth, there was only one reason. That steadfastness, day after day. And what made that steadfastness possible?

'He doesn't know how to give up.'

He knew neither discouragement nor despair. The reason Vengeance could dislike Encrid but never hate him? It was the same. His reason for disliking him, and his reason for liking him.

He didn't turn back. He didn't retreat. He moved forward, picturing a future. He dreamed. A man who forged ahead for the sake of his own life.

A man who shone because of it. A man who drew light to himself because of it.

"Fuck."

Vengeance suddenly wanted to swing his sword. The next time they sparred, he wanted to last a few more exchanges. He wanted to make that his goal.

So he put his worries aside and swung his sword. It was time to train. He, too, joined the training craze sweeping through the unit.

* * *

The first thing Encrid thought on waking was this:

'Training.'

He had missed all his morning training, even though he had particularly much to do today.

Starting with the Isolation Technique, then the dodging sense, the heart of the beast, Concentrate on a Single Point, the Heart of the Superhuman, the sense for the blade, Balaf-style martial arts, and drilling the basic sword forms.

'Since I missed my morning training, I'll move it to the afternoon.'

He would cut down on his breaks. He knew rest mattered, but these were unusual circumstances. Passing out that morning had cost him time.

For now, he set aside every question about what trick the proto knight Aesia had used. He had to do his work first. Daily repetition. The foundation of training, which he must never forget.

He opened his eyes with that in mind and heard some strange talk about how he couldn't become a knight. He wondered what Vengeance was doing there.

Chewing the bread Audin had given him, he went out to the training ground and began practicing the technique.

"Whew."

Before long, he was drenched in sweat. His underclothes were soaked just as quickly. For someone who had just regained consciousness, his head didn't feel heavy, and nothing hurt. At the time, though, he had felt as if he were about to die.

He remained focused on training, but his thoughts continued. Wielding two swords had accustomed him to doing things simultaneously.

'What the hell was that?'

He could project his presence now. He had once pinned Kitten in place with nothing but a glare. But he couldn't make an opponent see a phantom that wasn't there.

Yet Encrid had seen just such a phantom. Blades. A storm of countless blades. A storm of blades through which he couldn't advance a single step.

A coercion that said he would die if he didn't retreat. It urged him back. It forced him back. That was what Aesia's blade had seemed to tell him.

Had she drawn her sword then? He didn't think so.

"Whew."

He let out a deep breath and steadied his breathing. Then it was back to training, training, and more training.

He was just about finished catching up on his morning training when someone spoke.

"You were told you can't become a knight. Doesn't that come as a shock?"

It was the Frog, striding over to ask.

"A shock?"

A shock? What shock? That was genuinely what Encrid thought as he repeated the question.

"Well, I'll be."

The Frog scratched his nose with a thick finger.

"You're an interesting fellow."

After the Frog added that, Ragna approached from behind.

"What did you see?"

Encrid's gaze turned to Ragna. Walking up, Ragna raised his sword vertically before his face. The flat hid half his face, leaving only the other half visible. A hazy reflection of half his face appeared on the blade.

It was still too early to call it evening. Sunlight lay peacefully over their surroundings. Ragna stood amid the slowly fading light.

Encrid stopped swinging his sword and looked at Ragna, who spoke again.

"What makes a knight different?"

Ragna's next words didn't sound like a question. Encrid readied himself to listen closely. Neither cared whether the Frog beside them listened in.

What had the knight shown him? What Ragna was talking about was precisely what Encrid had wanted to know. He had intended to ask once he finished training, but Ragna had brought it up first.

It was time to listen.