Chapter 186 - That Lie Is White

After Encrid left, Rem—no, everyone, Rem included—became industrious for the first time in ages. Instead of tormenting passing soldiers, Rem spent more time swinging his axes alone. He did something resembling hard work. He kept sweating. Ragna was no different. Nor was Audin. Everyone was the same except Jaxon, who spent far more time outside the barracks and only occasionally joined them. And so they continued sparring with half their lives on the line. It was genuinely terrifying. “Fucking hell.”

Every soldier watching could only marvel in disbelief. Watching Rem, Ragna, and Audin fight, with even the Fairy Company Commander joining in, left the soldiers dispirited. Despair patted their shoulders. Could anyone watch them and grit their teeth, determined to catch up? “Are those fuckers insane?”

Even Torres of the Border Guard scowled fiercely. “What the hell? Are they trying to crush our spirits?”

His complaint spoke for the entire barracks. Could they really keep going, believing that swinging a sword every day would make them like that? The Fairy Company Commander held her own, too.

“You’re pretty good, huh?”

She even earned that from Rem. But she was far more than pretty good. Set aside Will, and one could easily believe she was at the level of a proto knight. What was someone that skilled doing playing company commander? Then again, some people with that much skill were playing mere platoon members. By comparison, the Fairy Company Commander was reasonable enough. That uproar was why the Battalion Commander gave them a separate training yard. The Fairy Company Commander had also strongly recommended it. “Morale in the barracks seems to have suffered somewhat.”

After that simple report, the yard was built immediately. Understandably so. The training craze Encrid had once inspired had gone cold. It would have been difficult to achieve deliberately, yet a few enthusiastic sparring matches had done the trick. Monsters like that actually existed. Thanks to those monsters, a sudden wave of gloom pervaded the barracks. That bastard used to laze around in bed all day. He definitely had. Yet this Ragna was a genius among geniuses. How could he swing his sword so sharply from a stance that had completely collapsed? Torres had even fallen over while secretly trying to copy the move. It was, quite literally, a feat that watching alone could never teach. And what about that bastard Rem? His personality wasn’t the only nasty thing about him. His axework was nasty, too. He alternated powerful downward blows with the axes in his hands, and even the first looked impossible to block. Then there was the hulking man who blocked them all.

“Brother, off to heaven with you!” Only his tone was gentle. He was forever talking about killing people, and it didn’t end there. He held his own barehanded. Sometimes he brought a club, but for the most part he fought with empty hands. Audin was a master of unarmed combat. On the battlefield, he had broken enemy necks like cornstalks and snapped them like twigs. “May you go to the Lord’s side!”

His skill was terrifying. Then came that mad-eyed bastard Jaxon, silently swinging his sword. Finally, the Fairy Company Commander provided the grand finale. Every soldier watching felt their motivation drain away. Those people had barely even trained, yet their talent was dazzling. Truly blinding talent. That was when Encrid returned. In the meantime, Rem had honed his instincts through sparring with half his life on the line. For the first time in ages, he had swung his axes to reach the next stage, to make tomorrow better. Even before those half-lethal matches, a proto knight like Aesia? He was confident he could win if she came at him. No, he was confident he could kill her. The technique proto knights called Will still involved controlling the body. At the very least, he wouldn’t go down without a fight. Even against one of the rare, exceptionally skilled proto knights, victory wouldn’t come easily, but he wasn’t about to die from a single swing of a sword. And now Rem had properly sharpened his instincts. He had actually worked to improve. Ragna was the same, to the point that no one could call him lazy anymore. Morning and evening, he gripped his sword, swung it, and sank into thought. Not sleep. Actual meditation. Yet...

‘I can’t break through his exchanges?’ Rem was half serious. Any more serious, and one of them would have to die before it ended. If this was to remain a spar, he had to stop here. And yet...

‘A little more.’ Encrid’s sword dropped straight down, a slash aimed at the crown of his head. Rem struck it with his axe, but the blade curved downward. This time it resembled not a snake but a bird of prey—a hawk gliding through the sky before diving for its quarry. The swinging sword abruptly accelerated, threatening to slip from Rem’s sight. He barely caught its trail and defended again. CLANG! ‘Fucking hell.’

Rem smiled without realizing it. When had sparring with his Platoon Commander ever made him feel this way? Before, yes, it had been enjoyable. But that was all it had been. The sort of enjoyment one got from a lively dance. And now? Exhilaration rose alongside his fighting spirit. He wanted to feel more of it.

‘Just a little more.’ The axes he had initially swung to gauge Encrid’s skill gradually closed that gap. By the standards Rem and Ragna had first established, this had gone from a harmless warm-up to a spar with half their lives on the line. SNICK! It happened as Rem crossed his axes. He thought his guard was airtight, but a stab slipped through a tiny gap and grazed his cheek. A scratch. Only a scratch. But he hadn’t blocked it. The corners of his mouth twisted grotesquely. He was enjoying himself so much he thought he might go mad. Excitement ran rampant through his brain. It felt as if something new were flowing from every part of his body. The Heart of the Superhuman activated on its own, heating his entire body. His heart thudded, and he swung his axe hard. In an instant, a spar that wagered half a life became one that wagered it all. At that moment, Encrid’s eyes went unfocused, and his sword dropped to the ground like a kite with a severed string. Rem was startled.

‘Oh, fuck!’ He couldn’t pull the axe back. At this rate he would split his Platoon Commander’s skull and get a look at his brains. It was a gap between moments, the briefest instant. CLANG! A sword intercepted the axe. SMACK!

Two hands caught his knotted forearm. Finally, a thick hand seized his left wrist as it tried to move reflexively. Ragna, Jaxon, and Audin, in that order. “Going to kill him the moment he gets back?” “... Fucking hell, who’s killing anyone? I was going to stop it myself. Nice and clean, with a little finesse. Why the fuck are you interfering?” Bluster. They all knew it. And they understood. Ragna, Audin, and Jaxon had all seen it. Their Platoon Commander had changed. He had returned at a level they had never imagined or expected. Unhesitating sword strikes, the game of moves and countermoves, and even his physical coordination. Not to mention the changes in his reaction speed and athletic ability. Jaxon recognized at a glance what made it possible. ‘Dodging sense.’

He was quite satisfied. Especially that Encrid had learned it properly. Jaxon nodded. Ragna saw something else.

‘Refined swordsmanship.’ Was swordplay the word? His swordsmanship had risen to another level. The way he swung, the shape his thoughts took—this was more than a simple change.

‘He’s combined his strengths with his swordsmanship.’ In other words, he had learned with genuine understanding instead of vaguely following instructions. In only two months? Was that possible, even if the Frog had poured her heart and soul into teaching him throughout the journey? Ragna knew better than anyone that his Platoon Commander had changed and would continue to change. What Encrid needed was the ability to control his body, and now he had built up those capabilities. Ragna had a good eye, too. But this... Of them all, only Audin fully understood the condition of Encrid’s body.

‘I cannot help smiling, Brother Platoon Commander.’ His physical condition was truly gratifying. His level of conditioning, his transformed athletic ability. What lay beneath it all? What foundation had allowed him to learn that technique Brother Wildcat called dodging sense, or whatever it was? ‘The Isolation Technique, of course.’

Priests who primarily trained their bodies were called monks. The Isolation Technique had been refined from their physical training methods. That was how Encrid’s body had been made. ‘He should have a regenerative body now, too.’

Dramatically improved recovery was one reason for rebuilding the body. Once again, it was a gratifying moment. Lastly, Rem was astonished. Utterly.

‘When did he get this far?’

He truly found himself thinking that all over again. The lunatic who had asked to spar as soon as they first met was now a lunatic with skill to match. He had evolved into a fully fledged, bona fide madman. It was astonishing, nothing short of astonishing. Rem delighted in it. Did it matter how he had improved?

‘No.’

No, it didn’t. Things looked like they would be fun. In the days ahead, too. Having a separate training yard didn’t mean they were hidden from view. What could a fence full of gaps, barely reaching an adult’s chest, possibly conceal? It did little more than mark a boundary. There were people watching the spar across that boundary. Soldiers who had lost their motivation and been disheartened. Vengeance was among them. ‘Monstrous bastards.’

Rem and the rest of the Lunatic Platoon truly were a gathering of monsters. Looking at Encrid standing at the head of them, Vengeance couldn’t understand how he occupied that position. Then Encrid returned. And Vengeance saw him refuse to yield a single step to Rem. He knew where Encrid had started. One could say he knew all the better because he had disliked him. Encrid had been a soldier of no consequence. A lowest-grade soldier. That was what he had been called. ‘Old and talentless.’

But what was he now? Vengeance couldn’t identify what made this spar different from the earlier ones. But he felt the changed atmosphere with his entire body. Rem and Encrid. The Lunatic Platoon members around them. Above all, his own feelings. Everything was utterly different. Even the way Encrid collapsed at the end. Vengeance realized that his broken spirit had merely been a campfire whose flame had briefly gone out.

‘I’ll do it, too.’ It was strange. Rem, Ragna, and Audin felt like nothing but monsters, but seeing Encrid made him want to emulate his effort. Made him want to stand beside him, on the same footing. Was it because he had watched Encrid’s efforts all this time? Or was it simply a difference in how approachable they felt? Who knew? Vengeance wasn’t wrestling with such questions. Only the desire remained. “Special training today.”

“Yes, sir!”

Vengeance’s platoon, who had been watching, answered as one. It wasn’t just Vengeance. Every soldier felt the same. In the hearts of those who had watched Encrid fight, the flames of motivation surged. Perhaps the curious training fervor that swept through the barracks from the next day onward was inevitable. Encrid had sparred with Rem on the day he returned.

“I think I pushed myself too hard. I’m still not completely used to it, either.” His eyes had rolled back and his strength had given out because he had overused the Heart of the Superhuman. Hardly surprising, with Rem coming at him in earnest. “Won’t you get used to it if you keep using it?”

Rem said it, but he wasn’t entirely convinced himself. In truth, had anyone besides him ever learned it properly? He didn’t think so. Encrid was the first to go beyond imitation and master it to this extent. The next day, Encrid sparred with Ragna.

“Where did you learn those sword forms?”

“From an evil spirit I happened across.”

It wasn’t untrue. Then Jaxon joined the sparring, a rare occurrence, and Audin taught him a new joint lock. Encrid was happy to have people willing to train with him the moment he returned. What a joy it was. To swing his sword and put his body through its paces without pause. To move toward a new version of himself. To gain something even without repeating today. “My fiancé?”

The Fairy Company Commander came, too. Naturally, more sparring followed. Only then did he realize that with a sword in hand, she was every bit Rem’s match. “Now that we’re the same rank, when shall we hold the wedding?”

When would she stop with the Fairy jokes? Not that he intended to take issue with them now. There was no reason to. This was everyday life by now. Esther, who had slept for roughly two days straight, only curled up in his arms every other day. He didn’t know whether something had changed. Krais got a good price for several of the ancient gold coins they had found. The Pioneer Village had also paid generously for the Knolls’ equipment. Between one thing and another, they now had Krona to spare. Between sparring sessions, Encrid visited the smithy.

“Broken? And the armor?” The armor was torn and gouged on the outside, and many of the links in the mail beneath had snapped. In short, it was thoroughly ruined. The swords were broken. Their cores were damaged, beyond salvaging. He had brought them along anyway, in case they could be melted down and reused. “Both of them?”

“It just happened.”

He had cut down hundreds of Knolls. He was lucky this was the extent of the damage. “Do you have any spare mail armor?”

At Encrid’s question, the blacksmith sighed, then nodded. “Not right now, but I’ll make you some. I’ve had a fair amount of good iron come in lately.”

Encrid nodded and offered him the sword. The one that had been called a demon sword. “Sharpen this for me, would you?”

The blacksmith examined it.

“This doesn’t look like an ordinary piece. Just the edge?” “No. Replace the pommel and grip, too. The balance seems slightly off as well.”

The blacksmith nodded. The blade itself was excellent, but its fittings were a mess. “I’ve got some good deerskin in. I’ll wrap the grip in that.”

He was agreeing to the job. Encrid nodded, paid a fair price, and left. He stopped at the seasoned-jerky shop and ate a few pieces, and before he knew it, evening had come. “Won’t you have some more?”

“Time for me to go.” He couldn’t ask the blacksmith to make him another sword on top of everything else, so he intended to buy one from an incoming merchant. Somehow he had ended up empty-handed. His waist felt bare. Despite the shortsword, guard sword, and knife tucked there, it still felt bare. ‘Nice weather.’

The mood in the city, though, wasn’t so pleasant. He asked a few passing merchants and soon had his answer. “There are rumors that bandits are targeting the city, and that monsters are coming up from the south. They also say some messenger came from the city to the east and made a whole lot of threats.” Border Guard was a military city. More precisely, one adjoining Aspen’s border. Bandits were targeting a place like this? An ordinary band would never stand a chance. Still, there were always mad bands of robbers. They had caused trouble during the fighting with Aspen, too. Monsters were a constant problem. East of here? That would be the City of Blades. Provocations from there were routine as well. But the circulation of such rumors would be a problem. There was a saying that ominous rumors meant more children and fewer goods. People stayed home instead of going out, and merchants from elsewhere visited less often. There had been a similar problem when monsters became too numerous before, prompting Border Guard to send out troops. Encrid had taken one of the commissions himself. That was when he had cut down the harpy. It had been quite satisfying. The feel of that strike had been excellent. In any case, ominous rumors or not, no orders had come down from above yet, so...

‘They’ll handle it.’

Commanders had their own responsibilities. He had been appointed Company Commander, but it was still unofficial. In other words, the Battalion Commander had acted on his own authority. Then there were the nobles behind him. How to put it? This city had plenty of snake-like bastards who looked as though blue blood really did run through their veins. He didn’t like it, but he couldn’t exactly stab every one of them to death on sight. ‘I’m not Rem.’

Obviously, that was out of the question. Rem was there when he returned to the barracks.

‘Right. I can’t live like him.’ “What’s with that look in your eyes?”

Rem was nearly as perceptive as Krais, especially when someone was insulting him. “Been bad-mouthing me? Around the market? No, you were doing it in your head.”

Sometimes his excessive sharpness made Encrid think his intuition really was extraordinary. Encrid acted according to his convictions. If a lie could put someone’s mind at ease, it could be called a white lie. “No.”

He shook his head. “Then why do I feel offended?”

‘Because you have a twisted personality.’ “Feels like you just insulted me again.”

“No.” A place where keen intuition and snow-white lies went back and forth. To Encrid, this place now felt like home. Hadn’t the Battalion Commander said he hoped Encrid would love the city? It might not be passionate love, but he didn’t dislike it. Truly.