Chapter 22 - Discretionary Reassignment

The Fourth Platoon Commander made some idle conversation. Encrid gave perfunctory answers, only half listening, and realized the man had something to say.

"If you have something to say, go ahead."

Drenched in sweat, Encrid was enjoying the cool breeze. This was just perfect: savoring the wind with his body pleasantly drained. He hoped the man would say his piece and leave.

"... I'd like you to join the scouts for an assignment."

The Fourth Platoon Commander folded his arms as he spoke. The gesture suggested defensiveness rather than a commander's resolve.

Encrid considered it. The scouts? This was no ordinary reassignment. Besides, he knew how awkward his position was. The only reason he could retain his rank as Squad Leader was that this was Squad 444. And they wanted to pull him out for scouting duty?

"You sure about that? Taking our Squad Leader?"

Rem suddenly poked his head forward from behind and rested his chin on Encrid's shoulder. They were close enough in height for him to lean there fairly comfortably.

"You serious about this?"

He asked with a half smile, but it seemed more like a protest against taking Encrid away.

"It's an order, Rem."

The Fourth Platoon Commander glared. Pure bluff. Encrid saw through it at once. Rem was a troublemaker, a reckless bastard who swung his axe whenever something rubbed him the wrong way. Invoking a commander's authority meant nothing to someone like him. The Fourth Platoon Commander knew it. So did Encrid. So did Rem.

"Rem."

Before his axe-loving squad member could say anything else, Encrid spoke his name in warning and shook his shoulder to push Rem back.

"Well, fine. Do whatever you want."

Rem backed off, grumbling.

"I can go instead."

Ragna had been watching quietly and spoke without much concern.

"... Did you always dream of being a lost child?"

Rem snickered as he asked. Ragna nearly flared up, then forced his anger down. He wasn't wrong.

Ragna had no talent for finding his way. No, even if someone put a map in his hands and explained it to him, he would end up somewhere else. Nor did he have a knack for working with others. Hadn't he ended up here because he ignored orders and fought however he pleased in every squad he joined? There were far too many reasons not to make him a scout.

"Anyone but you."

Even the Fourth Platoon Commander could only shake his head at Ragna.

Encrid did take the whole situation as a bad sign, but...

'All things considered, I am the right choice.'

His awkward position only mattered among the members of Squad 444. His absence of just one week had caused quite a commotion. And yet they had specifically asked for him? That suggested they had no one else to call on.

The talk of a curse had quickly died down, but its repercussions remained. Bo, Jack, and Rotten all belonged to the scouts. They were short of men.

"Whew. It's a headache for me, too. One of the Platoon Commanders has a stomach upset so bad he can't even move."

It really did give people reason to think it was a curse, with all of this happening to the scouting platoon alone. The Platoon Commander looked drained. He didn't seem particularly eager to call on Encrid, either.

'Something feels a little off.'

As he stared at the man with that thought in mind, the commander spoke.

"Don't look at me like that. I'll tell you everything."

"Sir?"

"I said, don't give me that look."

'What did I do?'

He had only looked at him, yet the Fourth Platoon Commander was overreacting with a heavy sigh.

"Come on, what's with all that swearing with your eyes? You don't do it often, but think how it makes the other guy feel. And to your superior, too."

Rem snickered as he spoke. Responding to that joke would only encourage him. Encrid turned back to the Platoon Commander, willing to hear him out.

"To expand the scouts at our discretion, we gave one Squad Leader an ad hoc promotion to Platoon Commander, but we're still short on numbers. So the order was to pull anyone capable of scouting duty from each unit, since we're in a hurry. Then someone higher up suggested including you, and here we are."

"Higher up?"

"The new Company Commander. You haven't gotten on her bad side, have you?"

Was she sending him out as a scout to silence him, having him killed without a trace because he knew her secret? No. If that were the case, why go to all this trouble? There was no reason. She seemed skilled enough to kill him quietly herself. Even without that, she had plenty of options. Not that he intended to die easily, but that was how things stood from her perspective.

So... 'She probably said it without thinking much of it.' That was Encrid's conclusion.

"The order came from above. So please, just go."

Rem was glaring beside him, while Ragna kept offering to go instead from behind. Right outside the barracks, a squad member who stood a full head taller than an ordinary soldier, and looked capable of beating a bear barehanded, was gazing skyward in prayer.

"Most holy Lord, I beseech You, do not take away my small, precious Squad Leader. Do not visit this trial upon Your small and frail servant."

The Fourth Platoon Commander couldn't hide his bewilderment. Who said anything about taking him away? And who exactly was small and frail?

The praying soldier's forearm muscles bulged. With a little exaggeration, those forearms were as thick as an ordinary soldier's thighs. His height and long limbs meant many people didn't notice unless they looked closely, but those forearms were weapons in their own right. If that devout soldier was frail, then there were precious few able-bodied people in the world.

"This once should be enough. Winter will be here soon, and that'll end this campaign."

They would reorganize the scouts before the next campaign anyway. They wouldn't keep Squad 444's leader in the scouts then.

Encrid understood what the Platoon Commander meant. Few people were foolish enough to keep waging war through winter. This war, too, would likely pause once autumn ended.

There was no need to agonize over it. Being called in to fill gaps here and there was common enough. He might lack talent for fighting, but he was better than average at other things. Scouting was no exception.

Perhaps because his injury had kept him away from the barracks this time, however, not one of his squad members welcomed his departure.

'I really am the right man for it, though.'

That wasn't baseless confidence. If he took a wrong turn and died, he could repeat the day. He would have an advantage over anyone else on this assignment. Recognizing and avoiding danger was also one of his strengths.

"That's an order, Fourth Squad Leader."

The Platoon Commander called it an order, but somehow it sounded like a plea for rescue.

Encrid looked behind him. Rem had started sharpening his axe. Ragna once again insisted he could go instead. The last squad member kept murmuring, "Must You truly test me?"

'Quite the atmosphere.'

If he came back after someone hit him, it felt as though they would all rise up together. Had they always been like this? He didn't think so. When he first joined the squad, they hadn't gotten this involved with one another. When exactly had that changed?

'Was it that rough while I was gone?'

Even Big-eyes was shaking his head. Still, what could he do about orders from above? His squad members might do whatever they pleased, but Encrid wasn't like them.

"Looks like I'll have to go."

He let out a breath before speaking. The decision had come from above. Defying it was never an option. Well, he could get out of it if he used any means necessary, but there was no need to go that far.

His words settled the matter. Naturally. Even if it was only a title, he was the Captain of this squad of six.

"Suit yourself."

Rem snorted before answering.

"I'm telling you, I can go."

Ragna insisted to the bitter end, but it was never going to work. A man who got lost inside the camp, serving as a scout? How would that work? Encrid was more amazed that Ragna had managed to live as a wanderer.

Hadn't he said he had been all the way to the sea at the eastern edge of the world? Encrid thought it reasonable to wonder if he had simply gotten lost and ended up there.

Not that he would ask. As always, Encrid kept a comfortable distance from them. If someone didn't want to talk, he neither asked nor pried. That was Encrid as a Squad Leader.

"Good. All right."

The Fourth Platoon Commander turned to leave. His steps were twice as light as when he had arrived, as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

After the commander left, while Encrid washed and rested, a casual remark sparked a minor commotion inside the barracks.

"Are you still practicing what you learned?"

It began with Jaxon, reclining on his bed. His bed was at the very back, while Encrid's was at the front. Everyone in the barracks heard him.

Encrid nodded reflexively. He had made it past the repeating day after learning hearing training from Jaxon, so the question seemed natural enough.

Rem, however, didn't like what he heard.

"Learned what?"

Several squad members had had a hand in Encrid's training. He had picked up various things from Rem, Ragna, and the devout squad member, all of them ways to survive the immediate dangers of the battlefield.

Encrid had worked hard to learn, but rather than fully mastering everything, he had mostly put it to rough use. Much of it was difficult to learn perfectly. At least the heart of the beast had finally become second nature.

But until now, he had never learned anything from Jaxon.

"You taught him what?"

Rem sat up in bed as he asked.

"Keep at it. It will help."

Completely ignored, Rem's eyes all but blazed.

"You little shit."

"Don't."

Encrid grabbed Rem's shoulder as his temper flared.

"What did you learn from that sneaky bastard? You can't just learn any old thing. You'll pick up bad habits."

"Heh."

Listening to their exchange, Jaxon let out a chuckle.

"Oh, right. Yeah. It's time for you to die. Today's the day. You want to feed the monsters roaming those plains, don't you? That's it, right?"

Jaxon continued to ignore him. Encrid sighed heavily and tugged Rem's arm.

"Enough. You're not actually going to fight to the death."

"Don't worry. I'll be the one left alive."

No, that wasn't what he meant.

"Who'll be left alive?"

"O Lord, may I send this foolish, faithless soul up to You? Grant me leave, and I shall."

Ragna and the devout squad member responded to Rem's words.

"Enough, enough, enough. I'll stop you no matter how many times you fight. Let's not waste our energy on something pointless."

Encrid began to regret accepting the scouting assignment. Was it really right to leave these idiots alone?

"Don't worry too much. They rarely take it all the way. They clash weapons a few times, then stop."

Krais spoke while counting the silver coins in his pouch.

That was the problem. Those few clashes. To anyone else, it looked like they were fighting to kill each other.

Yet command didn't throw them out, troublemakers though they were. Why? Their outstanding ability, of course. On the battlefield, each was unquestionably worth more than ten men.

So it made sense for him to be the one sent to the scouts.

'Losing me won't weaken our fighting strength.'

The same wasn't true of them. As soon as that thought occurred to him, Encrid was reminded of his own shortcomings.

'I have no talent.'

He had lost even to a twelve-year-old child. Genius or not, the child could barely manage the weight of the sword and staggered while holding it. And Encrid, a grown man, had lost.

It wasn't a matter of pride. Nor was it cause for despair. It had merely made him take a good look at himself.

Had he given up, then? No. He had simply turned that encounter over and over in his mind until he understood exactly where he stood.

Did that mean this was the end? Again, no. If he had no talent...

'Someday.'

If he couldn't take a full step, he would take half a step. All he had to do was keep moving forward. And Encrid had never once stopped.

Somehow, he didn't think he could sleep, so he picked up his sword and went outside. He felt he needed to swing it a little and work up a sweat before sleep would come.

Seeing him, Ragna got up and followed.

"It's been a while. Let me take a look at your form."

"When I'm right here?"

Rem rose to follow a moment later. Their eyes met, and murderous hostility passed between them. It felt as though a vortex might form where their gazes collided.

"Keep practicing and it will help. More than amateurish sword swinging."

Jaxon spoke from his bed. The two men, who had been staring daggers at each other, snapped their gazes toward him.

"Amateurish?" Rem said.

"Sword swinging?" Ragna added.

"Didn't you both say you were going to check my form?"

Encrid stepped between the three. After finally calming the pair down, he went outside.

He swung his sword again and again, guided by their half-advice, half-nagging. Another sweat-soaked day passed.

When the morning sun rose, he would have to head out on temporary assignment to the scouting platoon. He wasn't particularly worried. He didn't think it would be very difficult, either.

After working up a good sweat, everyone's bad mood seemed to have passed. Encrid, too, washed at the stream after his workout and went to sleep feeling refreshed.

* * *

"Company Commander, why specifically send him to the scouts?"

Seeing the First Platoon Commander standing near the torch stand, the Fairy Company Commander spoke.

"Step away from the torch stand. If it falls, it could start a fire."

"Pardon?"

"To the side."

"Yes, ma'am."

The First Platoon Commander moved a few steps aside.

The Company Commander's tent was taller and wider than an ordinary one. A torch burned on a stand high in the center, lighting the interior. There was also a crude table for meetings.

They were meeting to decide the company's scouting routes, and the First Platoon Commander had raised the question during their discussion. It was a reasonable thing for him to ask. The First Platoon Commander also served as the Company Commander's staff officer, a long-standing tradition in the Cyprus Division.

"A quick-witted soldier who knows how to keep himself alive seemed a good fit."

"I see."

It wasn't a decision she had given much weight to. The assignment was based on instinct. There was no particular reason. If someone asked, the answer would have to be, "Just because."

Of course, the Company Commander's judgment was correct. A Fairy's intuition could sometimes be keener than a prophet's words.