Chapter 260 - On How to Handle Idiots (5)

It was a conversation they had before leaving Martai.

"We trick them, then beat them."

Whether it was Black Blade or that priest, Krais had firm convictions about how to deal with dumb fucks. Encrid agreed.

"Let's do that."

"You got it!"

With that cheerful reply, Big-eyes had made a great many preparations. This was the result. "Hurry! Hurry and kill them all!"

The potbellied priest who had secretly supplied reports on Encrid's party's movements all the way here shouted.

Where had he obtained that information?

'Well, he was an idiot.'

The priest had trusted a beggar child who willingly sold him information for a few copper coins. Far too easily. So very easily. Krais had then anticipated Black Blade's attack. More precisely, he had picked out and secured positions along their route that were well suited to sneak attacks and ambushes, and watched the sky to judge when an overcast day might come. Snow would be welcome, but even without it, heavy cloud cover would suffice. After thinking through several possibilities, he had deliberately made it easy for Black Blade to attack. 'They really do seem stupid.'

Krais questioned whether Black Blade truly was such an impressive bandit organization. Would an organization like that do this? Send a few mercenaries and expect his party to die?

Of course, it was a matter of lacking information. Swallow Blade had not survived to report anything, and gauging Encrid's party's abilities from rumors alone was difficult. In particular, they had yet to determine how skilled his subordinates were. Krais saw Rem push lightly off the ground. Then he vanished.

BANG!

The earth cried out as it tore beneath his foot. At the same instant, a single line remained in his wake, slicing through the mace wielder's neck.

"Fucking hell, that's sharp!"

Rem's voice followed. Krais's eyes had failed to follow all the barbarian's movements, but the result let him deduce everything that had happened. His keen intellect made that possible. 'The mace came down from above, and he cut through the neck with his axe before it could fall.'

It had happened because Rem's hands and feet were several times faster than the swinging mace. He had praised the axe's edge because the mercenary wore a helmet that covered his face, and Rem had sliced straight through it.

The mace wielder's blood spattered the thin covering of white snow. The snow began to melt under the crimson blood. Fresh flakes drifted down over it. Encrid surveyed the battlefield. Krais deduced the process from the result, but Encrid could see it all.

"Don't surrender!"

Rem charged gleefully, with Dunbachel and Teresa moving up beside him. One mercenary seemed to know Dunbachel and offered a friendly greeting.

"You fucking bitch! Traitor!"

Shouting, he thrust a long spear at her. His technique did not look bad. At least, he was better than Dunbachel had been before. But that was all. She was no longer the foolish Beastman she once was. Her body seemed to bend and sway. For an instant, afterimages made it look as if there were three of her. Her exceptional athletic ability made that possible: brief pushes off the ground to either side created the images. Simultaneously, her scimitar left its sheath, cut through the falling snow and air, and reached his skull.

Every moment appeared broken into separate instants before Encrid's eyes, thanks to his keen senses.

THWACK!

The scimitar smashed through the man's skull and came free.

"Sorry, I didn't catch that. What did you say?"

Only after killing him did Dunbachel answer. 'She's getting more and more like Rem.'

That worried Encrid, but he let her be. Whatever form it took, she was finding and walking her own path. He could not criticize someone for that. While he watched with his arms folded, several more mercenaries attacked. Teresa engaged two of them.

"Fuck, where did a monster like this come from?!"

The enemy mercenary shouted. It was the lanky woman who had been throwing knives. Teresa blocked every one with her shield. One changed direction in midair as though enchanted, but even that she blocked, twisting to catch it on her pauldron.

Defending with the armor she wore was Teresa's specialty. So was pressing the enemy with her shield and beating them to death with her thick-bladed sword. She did just that. "Aagh!"

The female mercenary had survived this long through her skill at throwing knives. When Teresa struck her head with the flat of her sword, blood and brain matter flowed through the shattered skull inside her helmet. A crushed eyeball burst, spilling clear fluid that mingled with the blood.

"I am Teresa the Wanderer. Come at me if you want to die."

At those few words, several people visibly froze. However experienced they were, fear was only natural in the face of overwhelming violence. The mercenaries died in no time. Something resembling a battle should have begun atop the hills as well, but the men there saw their leaders being slaughtered. Naturally, all desire to fight vanished.

"Hey, surrender. We're short of hands in the territory these days. Establish who you are and serve diligently, and we'll restore your status within two years."

Torres coaxed them. They followed gold, after all. With the decision made to clear out the monsters and demonic beasts, taking them prisoner would be profitable even if they served only as meat shields. They could then pick out the decent ones and accept them. He had made the offer after a quick calculation. "I-I surrender."

A soldier lowered his wooden longbow. In the end, not one of the soldiers lying in ambush atop the hills fired an arrow. Seeing the mercenaries fall, the potbellied priest immediately ran the other way. Never in his life had he moved his feet so desperately. It was hard to believe a body like that could move so fast.

A thick forearm barred his way.

"Urk!"

Startled, he fell on his backside. The impact traveled from his rump all the way to his head. Bracing himself on the dirt, he lifted only his head. Before his eyes stood a soldier built like a bear.

'This bastard.' They had said Zimmer hit him, but the priest had a man of his own in the territory. That man had told him the truth: this was the one who had actually struck him. Yet Zimmer's glares and threats had kept him from making even the semblance of a threat against them. He resented that.

Afterward, those he considered his people had egged him on. Of course, it was all Krais's work. The priest was a scumbag whose character did not bear discussing, so Krais had hired a few of the ruffians who lived on the scraps he tossed them. Their manipulations had coaxed the potbellied priest into coming this far.

Why? For one reason: eliminating a threat was far better than leaving it alone. How corrupt the man was did not matter. His status as a priest was the problem. The best solution was to kill him and bury him. That was why Krais had deliberately drawn him into this. If ignoring a dumb fuck was the best way to deal with one, burying him was the next best. In other words, Krais had envisioned this situation from the moment Audin slapped the priest. Besides, Black Blade and a greedy priest made a fine pair, didn't they?

He had not quite expected everything to go his way so easily. His opponents were utter idiots. "The Lord of Radiance said that our work is to bring light, and bring still more light. Have you done so?"

Audin asked. The potbellied priest answered without pause.

"O-of course I d-d-did!"

He seemed terrified, his voice trembling and his tongue stumbling.

"You should have sought to illuminate the world, not sought after Krona."

Audin murmured. The priest tried to deny it, to say that he had helped disadvantaged children all this time and was even raising several orphans at the temple. But Audin already knew through Krais. This priest coveted Krona, and he coveted women. He had taken several orphan girls as his lovers.

THUD.

Audin raised his palm and brought it down. The blow to the crown of the priest's head sent his eyes and tongue protruding. Blood streamed from every opening, including his ears. Audin believed in God, and hated those who used that faith as an excuse for vile deeds. In the past, doubt had kept him from punishing some such people. He had turned his back and left them.

'I can no longer do that. No. I will not.'

Someone who overcame his limits and pressed forward now stood beside him. Audin, too, could no longer turn away from truth, life, conviction, faith, belief—all of it. 'I will live, Father.'

Without abandoning the life God had granted him. With the Lord's permission, he would live, beating his enemies to death. And in doing so, he would also punish those who had shattered his faith.

It would not be easy. If things went wrong, his death would be meaningless. But he would not die that way. Every day brought something to learn. Apart from teaching, Audin was learning too. From Encrid, and from Krais.

"By the lamplight you have shown me, I too shall kindle a light."

Though no one heard him, Audin prayed toward his Captain. A prayer directed at a human, not a god. It felt rather strange, yet natural as well. Meanwhile, Encrid had given up doing anything but watching.

'Crazy bastards.'

He cursed inwardly. Shouldn't they at least leave someone for him to fight? What had them all so excited?

Even Audin had suddenly sprinted off, smashed the priest's skull, and turned to look at him. Encrid could see the yearning in his eyes. They held a burning flame.

'That bear's mad for a fight.'

They were too far apart for Audin's meaning to come across clearly, so Encrid misunderstood. Rem, needless to say, was running wild. Ragna had not remained idle either. Normally he would merely watch, but he suddenly stepped forward and swung his sword without preamble.

That strike was more impressive than ever. The sword plunged diagonally downward, like an eagle swooping on its prey. It was faster than an eagle, of course, but that was the image the strike evoked. Then it swept back upward just as sharply as it had descended.

Where Ragna's sword had passed, the man known as the Prepared Blade lay scattered on the ground in three pieces. Immediately after swinging, Ragna regarded his sword with uncharacteristic admiration.

"Oh."

He liked it even more than he had expected. Dwarven craftsmanship indeed.

Encrid, too, had wanted to try his new sword technique in a real fight, and swing the sword the dwarf had given him. But...

"That ended quickly."

Just as Krais said in his deflated voice, it was over in no time. Rem had cut down five or six in an instant without even kindling a flame on his fire axe. Such was the gap between the two groups.

In truth, Krais, an expert at imagining disaster, had overprepared. Even with the archers present, the outcome of this fight had already been decided. Amid all the killing and dying, Jaxon had also stepped forward and captured a mercenary. He was a handsome young man, another with a reputation of his own.

"I'll do anything if you spare me."

Whatever Jaxon had proposed after catching him, the man spoke with blood streaming from a stab wound in his thigh.

"I'll take this one."

Jaxon rarely asked for anything, and Encrid had received so much from him.

"He's yours."

He neither questioned nor challenged what Jaxon intended to do with him. To be honest, none of the others cared either. Dunbachel keenly felt the change in her own abilities. As for Teresa...

"Fight me when we get back."

She addressed Encrid with a fiercer gaze than ever. Her blood seemed to be boiling.

"Gladly."

It was a welcome request. Encrid nodded, looked around at everyone, and thought,

'Crazy bastards.'

He resented them for leaving him no share. Black Blade's first attack, an ambush, had ended anticlimactically. Krais thought it was entirely their fault.

'They're being far too kind.'

Of course, from now on they would do things far, far removed from kindness. If even one attempt succeeded, someone's life would be in danger.

His dire imaginings took flight of their own accord, and he devised countermeasures to match. What else could he do? As long as he took to the battlefield and followed a man like Encrid, the problem was unavoidable. At the same time, Krais resolved:

'I can't do business at a loss.'

His goal remained the same: a ladies' salon. And getting Encrid into that salon at least once, even on a short-term contract. Having him entertain the customers. Just thinking about it was exciting. The party cleared away the traces of battle. Torres and Zimmer, who had already come out to meet them once, exchanged farewells with them again.

"Good work."

At Encrid's words, Torres nodded.

"Safe travels." The snow soon stopped, and the party walked briskly. When they reached Border Guard, the wild horse nudged Encrid's shoulder.

"What?"

"Oh, want to look around?"

"Sure, do as you like. Coming into the territory on your own would be dangerous, so come when I call you later."

"Go on. Have a look around and enjoy yourself."

Encrid kept talking one-sidedly to the horse. Rem watched him for a while before muttering,

"I still think that thing's going to turn human. Let's have Esther ask it."

No one answered. Once inside Border Guard, the party headed straight for the barracks. It was evening already. They had arrived late after deciding to press on and rest inside rather than spend another night outdoors.

Naturally, there was no argument at the gate.

"Welcome back, sir!"

A soldier Encrid had come to know through training opened the wicket gate. The soldiers were not entirely pleased to see him. Their faces were grim: the training they had enjoyed a respite from would now resume. "Tomorrow morning, I'll see whether you've been slacking off."

Encrid was a man who fulfilled his duties as a member of the military. He had not forgotten his work as training company commander.

"... Yes, sir."

The soldier would share this joyful, welcome news with everyone. His face was filled with truly unbearable delight. His twitching cheek suggested that delight was rather difficult to bear. "Ugh, I'm exhausted! Let's get some rest!"

Krais headed into the barracks as he spoke. Meanwhile, Teresa kept fixing Encrid with that burning gaze.

"Shall we have a bout before washing up?"

At Encrid's suggestion, she nodded. They sparred, and though Teresa lost, she was satisfied. A man willing to do this much was worth following. Whenever she fought him, an inexplicable sense of fulfillment came over her as well. Encrid rose the following morning and gave the Battalion Commander a brief report. The previous night, Esther had slipped into his arms and fallen asleep. The panther who was also human apparently had nothing in particular to say; she simply slept in silence.

"Let's begin training."

He started his day as training company commander. After lunch, he received word.

"Someone named Gilfin is here to see you. He's outside. It looked urgent." Encrid tilted his head. Did Gilfin have any reason to visit at this hour? Yet the moment he heard this, he remembered something that had happened before. When a certain Frog had come calling, to be precise.

When he went to greet this fellow Gilfin, he saw the Fairy Company Commander standing beside him.

"Where are you off to, my betrothed? Without so much as a greeting?"

The Company Commander asked.