Chapter 23 - Nu Tracks

"You listen for sounds that don't fit what you normally hear." The scouts were to depart in the blue predawn light. As Encrid gathered his things alone, Jaxon, who had the last sentry shift, casually spoke up. "Where did that come from?" Encrid asked, wondering what he meant. "You asked how to avoid getting stabbed on the battlefield." Encrid searched his memory. The Medical Barracks, the assassin's attack, the Fairy Company Commander, Krang, the fire. After putting all that commotion behind him, he'd returned to find the troublemaker squad fighting. No wonder he'd been distracted. Only the reminder brought it back. Before all that happened, on the final day before his last dance with the assassin, he'd asked in passing: ["I understand how to listen closely, but you can't keep concentrating on listening all the time just to avoid getting stabbed on the battlefield. How do you dodge without even looking behind you?"] Hearing training. Fine, good. But it required intense concentration. Could he really listen like that in the middle of a battlefield? 'That would be difficult.' He knew because he'd tried. Once he grew accustomed to it, perhaps he could perform near-acrobatic feats against multiple opponents. But one thing was certain: keen hearing alone wasn't enough. Jaxon was diligent. Rather than dismissing a passing question, he gave it a proper answer. And Encrid was more diligent still. He never let a chance to learn pass him by. "You mean I should sense when something is out of place?" "Ideally, you'd awaken a sense beyond your ordinary ones, but that doesn't come easily. So if you're in grassland, listen closely to the rustling grass and pick out sounds of a different kind." Their scouting area was grassland, thick with grass that ranged from calf-high to eye level. He seemed to have tailored his advice to that. Listening to the helpful explanation, Encrid suddenly grew curious. "You're giving me quite a detailed explanation." Jaxon stared straight into his eyes, as though asking why he was bothering to ask when he already knew. Only when Encrid tilted his head did Jaxon continue. "Because you're relentless, Squad Leader." "... What?" Where had this conversation gone off course? Why call him relentless out of nowhere? Jaxon knew his squad leader's persistence, his passion for the sword. That was why he'd said it, but Encrid hadn't caught on at all. Encrid started to ask more, then closed his mouth. Did the reason matter? His troublemaker squad members' whims were nothing new. So the reason didn't matter. Here they had someone willing to learn and someone willing to teach. As long as the lesson was worthwhile, that was enough. Since he was being dragged off to join the scouts anyway, reflecting on this and practicing along the way wouldn't hurt. He therefore set aside what needed neither scrutiny nor questions. "How do I distinguish sounds of a different kind?" Encrid instantly shed his bewilderment and returned to the subject. Jaxon watched him with a peculiar look, as though looking at a three-headed dragon. "What?"

"Nothing." The explanation continued. What constituted an out-of-place sound? How should hearing be put to use? It was excellent. This was the joy of learning. Encrid set out feeling utterly satisfied. "Right, so that's how it works." Jaxon was still giving him that peculiar look. Encrid turned away without noticing. "I'll be off, then." He headed toward the edge of camp for his scouting assignment. Watching him go, Jaxon thought, 'That makes no sense.' Recently, he'd seen his squad leader listening for footsteps. He'd reacted from quite a distance. His hearing had considerable range. Others might miss it, but Jaxon's eyes weren't so easily fooled. There was just something a little odd about it. He considered every training method he knew, and everyone who'd undergone the same training. Training the ears by listening meant constantly hearing different sounds and distinguishing between them. Naturally, one learned to identify different kinds of sound along the way. Yet what about his squad leader? 'His hearing is excellent, but he's a beginner at telling sounds apart.' It was as though he'd spent a short period intensively training nothing but the act of listening. But could training alone achieve that? With dozens of spare lives, perhaps someone could train that way. 'Strange.' His squad leader really was a strange man. In any case, that was why he'd shared a little more of what he knew. And the man would quickly absorb what he'd just learned. Developing one's hearing was the difficult part. Distinguishing and classifying sounds was secondary. When Jaxon finished his sentry shift and entered the barracks, Rem was watching him through half-lidded eyes. He lay propped on one side, his head resting on his hand, smiling at Jaxon. It was deeply irritating. "I don't like that fucking look in your eyes."

That was Jaxon's morning greeting. Rem smiled gently before replying, "Fallen for the squad leader's charms too, have you? Watching him makes you want to teach him things, doesn't it?" "It's a fair exchange. He's indebted to me, so I'll receive something of equal value later." Jaxon of Equivalent Exchange. That was his nickname in the unit. But even as he spoke, he knew he hadn't taught the squad leader in order to demand something in return. It had been an impulsive decision. Was it because the man's recent performance on the battlefield had left an impression? Jaxon didn't dwell on it. He knew there was nothing wrong with following his heart now and then. He could leave it at that. "Fuck off, you prick. A grown man getting all bashful." Rem snickered, then lay back down and closed his eyes. He pulled his blanket up beneath his chin, and soon his breathing steadied, as though he'd surrendered to its cozy warmth. Sometimes Jaxon wondered what made that crazy barbarian so confident he could act however he pleased. "Go lie down. Try coming at me because you think I'm asleep, and I'll split your head open," said Rem, who'd only been pretending to sleep. Jaxon ignored him and went to his own spot. Answering would only encourage him to run his mouth. "Fucking bastard. Always ignoring me."

Sure enough, Rem grumbled over the lack of an answer to his own remark.

* * *

The scouting party that departed before dawn was off to a rocky start. "If we meet those Aspen bastards, we split their skulls. Understood?"

So said the scout squad leader commanding the small party. For a moment, Encrid nearly blurted out a question about what the man thought scouting was, but the squad leader spoke first. "Troublemaker squad leader, you're just another soldier here. If you're going to disobey orders, say so now. We'll settle it with a fight. Unlike some people, I didn't get my squad through my asshole, so I'm pretty confident." His tone was remarkably vicious. Encrid wasn't angry, or even particularly offended. This was hardly the first time he'd received such praise. Mere insults from people who didn't know him meant nothing. Besides, he thought it better to quietly finish the patrol, reflect on what he'd learned, and return rather than stir up unnecessary trouble. "Bear with him, even if he rubs you the wrong way. Seems like a bit of a show-off."

Another soldier had drawn close to speak. He was an older man with a gravelly voice. "Doesn't bother me."

"Good, then." The soldier beside him gave an unassuming smile out of the squad leader's sight. He seemed pleasant enough. "Move out!" Ten men in all, the scouting and patrol party set off. Not every scout went to spy on enemy territory. These plains were a vast grassland known across the continent as Green Pearl. To the east, low hills led into a few gentle ridgelines, but for the most part, the land was wide open, with nothing to obstruct the view. To the west flowed the Penn-Hanil River, which could be called Naurilia's lifeblood. Its broad waters were shared with their present enemy, the Principality of Aspen. The terrain made surprise attacks almost impossible in battles on these plains. What, then, were the scouts to do? Explore enemy territory and patrol the surrounding area. Their job was to check for parties moving by day or night, signs of enemy cavalry preparing to move, or any other enemy activity. Checking key locations along the way was part of it too. Scouting was dangerous, of course. They never knew when they might encounter the enemy. There were plenty of cases where a clash between scouting parties had led straight to a full-scale battle. But such incidents weren't frequent. Nor should they be. "Let's go show them the greatness of Naurilia's infantry." To Encrid, the youthful squad leader was an idiot intoxicated with his own abilities. Was he some noble's bastard? If not, perhaps he had someone backing him in the unit's command. Could he be more than nineteen or twenty? It was a fairly swift promotion for a squad leader in Naurilia's regular army. Even so, compared to a true prodigy, soldiers like him were a dime a dozen. The actual purpose of scouting no longer seemed to occupy any part of the scout squad leader's brain. Some of the soldiers even agreed with him. "Of course. With your skills, sir, a few of them won't stand a chance."

"Show us the strength that beat five mercenaries!" 'They'll lick that kid's asshole raw.' Nobody needed to explain how things had come to this. The scouts' frequent injuries must have left them short of men. That was why both he and these idiots had ended up here. Even so, weren't these bastards a little too substandard? Still, it should be fine. This scouting party had a set route, after all. 'Patrol in a circle around our position.' The precise route was up to the squad leader. Organizing the information in his head, Encrid decided that all would be well as long as the man didn't do anything spectacularly idiotic. "These are Nu tracks."

The squad leader had spotted animal tracks as they walked. Nu were cattle-like animals that ran across the grasslands in herds. They traveled in groups ranging from twenty to as many as fifty. "Follow these and we'll feast today. Let's have ourselves a barbecue." ... He wanted to chase twenty Nu? More absurdly, those weren't even Nu tracks. They belonged to a gazelle. "Good luck with that," muttered the pleasant-looking soldier just behind him. Apparently just as dumbfounded, he gave a dry chuckle as he stared at the back of the squad leader's head. On the first day, the scouts advanced while searching for nonexistent Nu. Naturally, no animal let itself be caught by a group prowling about in the open with menacing glares. "Damn it."

The squad leader snapped for no good reason. Would that bastard really have lit a fire if they'd caught a Nu? That would have been a sight. A scouting party that even built a campfire when moving stealthily alone wouldn't have been enough. How was that any different from announcing, 'I'm a complete and utter fucking idiot!' Perhaps it was just as well they hadn't caught anything. Before sunset, they found a spot with a low hill and four towering trees and finished preparing to camp there. "Where are you from, troublemaker squad leader?" It was the soldier who'd made a good first impression—the one who, most importantly, had regarded the idiot leading their scouting squad with contempt. "Border Guard."

"Career soldier?"

Encrid nodded. Border Guard was a fortress city defending the frontier. It had farmland and merchants, but it was fundamentally a military city, full of training facilities and career soldiers. "I'm from a mountain village, and I'm fairly confident in my hunting. I nearly choked when he called those Nu tracks earlier. They were gazelle tracks." Encrid had been just as appalled. The two found common ground. The former hunter's name was Henri. He was easygoing, but he thoroughly disliked their current squad leader. "I'll show you something interesting tomorrow. Grassland might look as though it has no paths, but animals have their own trails." After a little more conversation, Henri soon went to sleep. Taking the third sentry shift that night, Encrid reflected on Jaxon's lesson. Though he wasn't actually holding a sword, he moved his hand through the air, reviewing what he'd learned. The sparring he'd done with Ragna and Rem before leaving on this assignment had helped considerably. 'He said to be able to stab from any stance.' Rem had told him that, and Encrid was training toward it. Rem had also explained how: strengthen his lower body. Scouts did a lot of walking. Unless they were cavalry, there was no getting around it. 'Walking is good too.' It wasn't a bad way to build leg strength. Having eaten nothing but jerky, he might well have felt a little hollow. But Encrid had no time to think about that. His mind was occupied solely with the training he could do now, the training he needed to do later, swordsmanship, the hearing skills he'd learned from Jaxon, and the hunter's tricks Henri had promised to teach him. He took pure pleasure in learning and mastering things. Of course, he also enjoyed putting what he'd mastered to use. 'I'll spar again when we get back.' Encrid kept thinking throughout his shift while training his ears to detect anything out of place. Before long, he woke the next sentry and went to sleep. The scouts set off again as dawn began to break on the second day. That morning, Encrid learned the basics of recognizing animal trails from Henri and listened to footsteps brushing through the calf-high grass. 'There's so much to learn.'

He genuinely felt that way. The everyday hunting knowledge Henri shared was quite interesting too. Until now, he'd never had the leisure to learn about such things. "This way." The scout squad leader took the lead, heading toward a field thick with tall weeds. 'Nothing wrong with that.' For someone who'd talked about splitting enemy skulls, he'd chosen an unproblematic route. It was also a location they'd been assigned to check. Naturally, the scout squad leader effortlessly shattered Encrid's reasonable expectations. "We'll push straight through the grass and track down their scouts. What do you think?" Was this bastard genuinely out of his fucking mind? Encrid barely suppressed the words that almost slipped out. What would they use to navigate in those tall weeds? And where was the guarantee that going this way would bring them to the enemy scouts? All they needed to do was check inside for a possible ambush or anything unusual. "Stay out of it. Not all squad leaders are equal, you know." He'd tried to gently talk the man around, only for one of his soldiers to step in with that response. Well, now. Encrid still wasn't angry. He merely wondered whether he should let this continue. He didn't deliberate long. He decided to let it be. If things went wrong and he died, he could reconsider the next day. Otherwise... 'We'll chase the wrong trail and come back.' Either way, he had nothing to lose.