Chapter 225 - Eyes That Never Change

"Form a line!"

Krais stepped forward, as though Encrid weren't the only one delighted by this turn of events. In fact, the moment he spotted Encrid, he had shouted without a trace of fear. Even so, the others never took their eyes off Encrid. Their gazes seemed to hold questions. Reflexively, he met each in turn. The half-Giant's eyes seemed to say, 'Keep your promise to fight me again.' Swallow Blade struck something resembling a provocative pose. He shrugged and snorted, as though he thought little of his opponent. A crude taunt. "I've come to repay what I owe you."

Count Molsen's son spoke imperiously, acting as though he would naturally go first. Last, the swordsman who had once sucked blood from the Roquefried trading company like a mosquito surveyed Encrid from head to toe with wide eyes. He looked utterly astonished. No, he made no attempt to hide his astonishment. He didn't seem inclined to. He even voiced it.

"Impossible. You really have improved. I thought even surviving death's door dozens of times wouldn't be enough." He was right. Encrid had thrown away his life hundreds of times to get here. He hadn't merely survived death's door; he had actually died hundreds of times to reach this point. Of course, the man had no way of knowing that. Now Encrid had something to consider, too. Who should he fight first? "What line? Hey, you fought that woman yesterday? Lucky you survived."

It was the man called Swallow Blade, wearing an obnoxious smile. His face hardly inspired affection. But that wasn't important. Where he stood, how his arms hung—everything attested to his skill. His position let him take in everyone at once, and his dangling hand rested where it could draw his sword at any moment. Encrid found it remarkable anew that he could see such things. 'Deliberation.'

Think, then think again. A guiding question, perhaps? This had happened while he was mulling over Audin's words. "I don't mind who I fight."

Having reached his conclusion, Encrid answered. "... You think you can beat any of us!"

What was his name again? Encrid had just heard it, but had already forgotten.

"Er, sorry, what did you say your name was? The Count's son?" Edin Molsen's face flushed red at the question. A true taunt required sincerity. This was nothing like Swallow Blade's clumsy attempt. Encrid really had forgotten his name. He'd been too busy admiring his bumper harvest. "What?"

Edin's disbelief gave way to anger. He paid no heed to anyone else's gaze.

"I'll teach you some manners."

He stepped forward. "I told you to form a line."

Krais, who had left his sense of fear back at the quarters, spoke again. Edin's anger turned toward the company member nicknamed Big-eyes.

"Interrupt again if you want to fucking die, soldier." Krais shrugged at Edin's haughty words.

"You can't keep doing this here. You're blocking the road people and trading-company wagons use."

"Fine. I'll kill you." Apparently furious, Edin turned toward Krais. He put a hand to his sword and drew it.

SHING!

The steel had barely rasped against the scabbard when Krais shouted. "Rem! Rem! Captain! Captain!"

He scrambled backward, crying out urgently. When he ducked behind Rem, who stood nearby, Edin's sword stopped. "... Why do I find you so irritating sometimes?"

Muttering, Rem stepped forward. The two hatchets at his waist dangled as he spoke again, his stance loose and slouching.

"Well, he's got a point. Let's move somewhere else." He swept his gaze left and right as he spoke. His words were meant for everyone. Then he found himself astonished anew.

'That crazy bastard of a captain.' It was because of what Encrid was doing. What was he so excited about? All right, Rem knew why he was excited, but wasn't that taking things too far? "Against all three of us?"

The rapier swordsman spoke. Exactly as he'd said, Encrid was gauging his distance from the half-Giant warrior, the rapier swordsman, and Swallow Blade. In other words, he was acting as though he would fight all three at once. 'He'll never die of old age at this rate.'

Once again, Rem had no way of knowing, but Encrid had already met an untimely death many times. "That's greed, brother."

When Audin spoke from behind him, the deadly pressure radiating from Encrid eased. "Whatever this is, I don't believe it's worth damaging the city over."

The rapier swordsman stepped back as he spoke.

"Fine by me."

Swallow Blade took a step back as well, and the half-Giant warrior silently reined in her own pressure. "... I've cleared some space behind my inn."

It was the innkeeper, Allen. A merchant's instinct, perhaps. From what he could tell, wouldn't they all be staying in the city? And none of them seemed inclined to fret over a few Krona. They looked comfortably well-off. Lately, word of the delicious fare at Vanessa's Pumpkin Soup and the herb pies had left him somewhat behind in attracting guests. Allen had chosen space rather than cooking as his weapon to overcome that. In short, he had built a rather respectable training yard behind his inn. "Good."

Encrid nodded. Soon Allen was directing people his way, one after another. As everyone moved, Rem came up beside Encrid. "Trying to get yourself killed? If you've hurt your head, you should rest."

"You're the last person I want to hear that from." Listening to their exchange, Krais chimed in.

"Well, Captain?"

His little scheme had worked, and he wanted to hear Encrid say so. Encrid couldn't deny it. They had irrigated the land and sown the seeds, and now they had a bumper crop. "You can keep this month's share, too."

He meant the Gilfin Guild's tribute. Surely this merited giving Krais what mattered most in his life.

"Excellent." As they walked along exchanging idle remarks, Edin, the last one left behind, erupted in fiery rage.

"You bastards! How dare you treat a noble of the kingdom like this!"

Had he been a dragon, he would have breathed fire. Ah, he'd forgotten. Encrid thought this to himself, made up his mind, and spoke.

"I'll fight the Count's son first. Shall we go in?"

He was a noble's son, after all. And not just any noble, but Count Molsen, who bore the arrogant epithet King of the North. He deserved the proper treatment. "You wretch. Yes, I'll strip you of that arrogance."

Edin swept past Encrid's group, followed by the companion who resembled him and, last, the man who had stood motionless behind them. Whatever else happened, Encrid was satisfied with the present. Everyone headed silently to the open space behind the inn. An entire storehouse had been demolished, leaving a broad area paved with bluestone. Several chairs had been set out beyond it. Clearly, Allen had deliberately fashioned it into a training yard. "Count Molsen's son goes first! Everyone else, please wait!"

Krais stepped up to announce it like a clown warming up the crowd for an acrobatic troupe. He had expected at least some grumbling, but there was none. They merely watched in silence. With curiosity in some eyes and arrogance in others, Encrid took his place opposite Edin. Edin raised his sword and pointed it at him.

"Come at me!" Encrid did exactly that. He closed the distance in long strides, without even drawing his sword.

"Are you looking down on me?"

Edin spat the words through clenched teeth and brought his sword down. Encrid still didn't stop walking. How to put it? He wanted to show those watching just how much he could do. What his sword was. What sort of man they had come to see. From one perspective, it was recklessness; from another, a bold and generous spirit. Achieve what he intended, and it would be daring. Fail, and it was merely foolhardiness. Wasn't the line between confidence and arrogance a fine one? And Encrid showed confidence, not arrogance. He watched the descending sword to the very last instant, then drew his own with his left hand.

SHING! In one breath, he swept it upward and caught Edin's blade, not with its middle, but with the ricasso near the grip. The closer to the grip, the easier it was to transmit force. THUNK.

The sound was dull for such a powerful downward strike. Encrid had bent his knees to divert the force his sword received. Having deflected it, he moved into a bind. Once their blades met, it was over. The rest was easy. He stretched his left foot far forward to close the gap, twisted at the waist, and drove out his right fist.

THWACK! Defense and attack seemed separate, yet happened so nearly simultaneously that they looked like one movement.

"Urk!" Even through leather armor, Encrid's fist was more than heavy—it was a deadly weapon. He possessed enough strength to inwardly astonish even the half-Giant warrior. All that strength training hadn't been wasted: the single punch made Edin spew something from his mouth. Edin Molsen was better than he had been at his father's side, but...

'Not enough.'

He was lacking in many respects, including practical experience. Crossing swords in a game of moves and countermoves would take time, but he was weak against unconventional attacks. That was Encrid's assessment. In a way, it was an utterly stupid thing to do. Approach without guarding himself, block the attack, and throw a single punch? One mistake, and Encrid would have lost the advantage. But in combat, nothing mattered more than the result. Leaving Edin on the ground, Encrid raised his head.

"Are you just going to stand back there and watch?"

The question was directed specifically at Edin's bodyguard. The bodyguard knight's expression hardened. He turned a rather fierce gaze on Encrid, then clenched his teeth and shook his head. He didn't seem the sort to avoid a contest. Did he think it wasn't time yet? It didn't matter. There were plenty of other opponents to face.

* * *

The rapier swordsman was truly astonished.

'He's improved?'

There was always a difference between judging someone by his stance and seeing him actually fight. But Encrid was seasoned, bold, and knew how to enjoy combat. How to put it? He could never have imagined the man changing like this.

'He's improved enormously.'

What could he call it? It was like turning back toward what had certainly been a wasteland, only to find a lush green plain. "Remarkable."

He murmured it without realizing. No matter how he looked at the man, he didn't seem a genius, yet his skill had improved at an abnormal rate. "You find a great deal surprising."

The female warrior beside him spoke. She stood several heads taller than he did.

"You don't know what he used to be like."

"Only the present matters." Her eyes gleamed as she spoke. Where had this one come from? She was no ordinary fighter. Looking at him, she showed something like puzzlement as well. 'Just what are you?' That was what her look said. That was all. They lost interest in each other. No, they couldn't spare each other any interest. Right now, both had someone more important to focus on. For the first time in a very long while, the rapier swordsman's curiosity surged. He had once been called a Frog reincarnated. He was helpless before anything that stirred his curiosity. In short, he wanted to fight. To cross blades and take the measure of his opponent. But the female warrior stepped forward before he could.

"My turn, I take it?"

She had no chance of getting it.

"Sister, why not spend the day playing with me? That brother over there seems to be having trouble with his itching hands." At Audin's words, the swordsman called Swallow Blade stepped forward.

"You've got a good eye, big fellow."

It was true. Watching the fight had set Swallow Blade's blood boiling, too. How to put it? Just looking at the man made him want to slice him up. "Tsk. Just the sort I'd enjoy playing with. But I'll let you have him."

Swallow Blade heard those words as he headed to the center of the training yard. They couldn't have been addressed to him. The speaker had gray hair and eyes that somehow grated on him. The one who had stepped forward earlier and said his captain's head was broken. That one looked worth slicing up, too. With that thought, he faced the man called Encrid.

"Not bad with your fists, are you?"

"I like to think I'm better with a sword." Listen to this bastard. Swallow Blade was no longer smiling outwardly. His outside and inside had always differed. When he smiled on the outside, he wasn't enjoying himself. When his expression went stiff, he was positively delighted. 'I'll have to slice off an arm.'

Then those eyes would change, wouldn't they? Steady and upright. His opponent's eyes revealed his disposition. Swallow Blade was adept at reading people's dispositions. And at changing them. When eyes that upright and unwavering floundered in terror, he felt pleasure. The mere thought sent excitement surging through him.

'I can't wait to slice him up.' He would drive the man into a corner slowly, as though preparing a meal. Please, let him not crumble after a few scratches. Swallow Blade sincerely hoped he wouldn't.

* * *

Their fight lasted quite a while. One little trick after another targeted each of them. In the end, Swallow Blade left sixteen blade wounds on Encrid's body. The hole he'd opened in his abdomen would have been fatal had it landed just a little to the side. And yet...

"Wow. You're something else."

His opponent's eyes hadn't changed. Swallow Blade smiled. Because now, he wasn't enjoying this at all.