Chapter 28 - A Surprise Attack and Blue Eyes

Watching the scout Squad Leader stagger, Encrid inwardly sighed with relief.

'Barely pulled that off.'

He only managed to knock a blade aside with the back of his hand five times out of ten. Well, he was getting a little more used to it. It was only possible because he had grown familiar with this fellow's particular habits. Otherwise, it was a trick he would hardly dare attempt. But that was purely Encrid's perspective. To everyone watching, the gap in their abilities looked enormous. He had knocked aside an oncoming blade without blinking, then struck the solar plexus to put his opponent out of action. Surely that was impossible without an overwhelming difference in skill. "You're a lowest-grade soldier?"

How many times had he heard that now? He was getting sick of it.

"I never took the promotion test. Didn't think I needed to." Having thoroughly answered even the questions that would follow, Encrid flexed his aching wrist from side to side. Nothing was wrong with it. Throughout his sword training, he had done every exercise he needed. Strength training had naturally been part of that. In terms of sheer strength, he was well-conditioned enough to rank quite high within his unit. That was what made a result like this possible. "From now on, I'm the Squad Leader," Encrid declared.

That was one mountain crossed. The scout Squad Leader offered no protest. He stared blankly for a moment, muttered, "Well, you, uh," and fell silent. No one refused to follow him. The fierce-looking soldier, who quietly wielded the most influence after the Squad Leader, obeyed Encrid without a fuss. Just as expected.

After that, the search for a way out continued. "Henri, what's your dream?"

Encrid changed the formation and took the lead, walking with Henri beside him. After all that commotion, Henri felt as though his mind might give out, but Encrid's question quickly brought him back to his senses.

"Sir?"

"Is there something you want to do?" Henri blinked a few times, then, perhaps flustered, voiced a rather detailed wish.

"Er, um, I'd like to make it out alive and set up house with the widow who runs the flower shop."

Exactly. Everyone had a goal of their own. "Then you'll have to get back alive first. What about you?"

He immediately turned to ask the man behind him. Andrew stood right behind Encrid. The first thing Encrid had done when rearranging the formation was to place Andrew directly at his back. He had even let him keep his weapons. Watching this, Henri thought Encrid truly knew no fear. What if Andrew held a grudge and stabbed him in the back?

Even if he were stabbed, Encrid could simply start the day again, but Henri had no way of knowing that. Andrew let out a deep sigh at the question.

"Fine. I lost," he said.

"I asked what you wanted to do, soldier."

Demoted from Squad Leader to soldier. No one objected. Encrid had made the difference in their abilities all too clear. "Restore my family."

So he really was a fallen noble.

"Then you'll have to get back alive first, too," Encrid said. Everyone stared at their newly installed Squad Leader, wondering what he was up to. He went on asking the same question and giving the same answer.

"You have to get back alive to make money."

That was his reply to a soldier whose dream was to save enough to open a shop. "Your girlfriend's pregnant? Then you'd better get back too, unless you want the child growing up without a father."

One of the thug soldiers was already a father-to-be.

"Looks like we're all agreed," Encrid continued. "Then let's get back alive first." None of them could understand what had gotten into the man. Still, no one challenged him. Encrid met each of their eyes in turn. Ordinarily, the gesture would mean little, but he had already planted the words. Andrew and the other allied soldiers each thought of what they had left behind. Encrid wanted them to develop a sense of purpose of their own. He had started with violence and coercion, but now he needed them to fight well of their own accord. It was a method he had tried many times: planting a hunger for life in their hearts. It worked quite well. Ten men fighting their way through as one had a far better chance than he did breaking through alone. In fact, with this much, they might even try a surprise attack rather than escape. Once they launched their attack, the situation could change completely.

'This could work.'

As long as he could see a possibility, he could try as many times as it took. As long as he was prepared to die. Through several rounds of trial and error, Encrid memorized the enemy's positions and numbers. More todays passed in which he beat the Squad Leader down.

"What's your dream?"

Todays spent repeating the same words passed as well. It could easily have grown tiresome, but Encrid devoted himself just as fully to every repeated today. What he gained from all of it came down to two essentials: a surprise attack and a flagpole.

'Let's try it.'

All those todays had brought him to this moment. He had practiced enough through countless repetitions. "Let's all make it back alive."

Encrid looked back, and the entire scouting squad nodded. None of them thought the mission was particularly dangerous. Even so, hearing him repeat it stirred something in their chests.

"Let's go, then." He had more or less absorbed what he had learned through sparring—enough that he no longer needed to repeat today. Encrid did not move cautiously. There was no need. He already had a rough idea of the enemy's positions committed to memory. "Have you been here before?" asked Henri, the former plains hunter, walking beside him at the front.

"A few times."

It would have been stranger to say he had never been here. He was clearly making his way forward without hesitation.

"Ah, I see." They walked a little farther before Henri asked another question.

"Were you a hunter, by any chance?"

"No. I learned a little from a hunter I know."

Henri had asked because Encrid could read tracks and tell which way the grass lay. And, of course, the person who had taught him all that was Henri himself. As he led them along, Encrid glanced back and saw the nursemaid soldier glued to Andrew's side. With a face like that, any actual children in his care would flee in terror. On a battlefield, though, he would make an excellent bodyguard. Watching Andrew and his nursemaid, Encrid thought,

'Once the fighting starts, the ugly-looking soldier will follow Andrew without fail.'

Even as he walked, he went over the escape route he had worked out, tracing it in his mind again and again. The instant they reached their destination, Encrid raised his right fist to halt the squad members.

"Whew."

He stopped and took a deep, steadying breath. Every gaze turned to him, wondering why he had halted here. They were only at the edge of the grassland. But no one spoke first. Encrid was a domineering Squad Leader. He never consulted them on their direction or route. He made every decision himself. That was not necessarily a bad thing. The purpose of a patrol was simply to look around a designated area. An important scouting mission would have been assigned personnel to match, and this unit's role did not seem particularly critical. In short, they only had to do what was needed and return. "Shoot."

Encrid pointed to one side and gave the order. Holding his crossbow, Henri stared blankly at him.

"What? Where?" he asked, bewildered.

It happened every time. There was no helping it. These men had never repeated today.

"Shoot. I won't tell you twice." Henri was not slow on the uptake. Encrid's tone was cold, carrying a determination to brook no argument. He was pointing beyond the tall grass. Nothing was visible there, nor was there any particular sign of a presence. Even so, Henri did as he was told. He had seen Encrid fight. Contrary to the rumors, this was clearly no man to take lightly. He drew back the string and set an arrow against it, stretching the string taut. Watching Encrid's reaction, Henri released it in the direction of his pointing finger. The Squad Leader had ordered it, after all. The arrow flew with a whistle and struck something with a muffled thud. At the same moment came a dying "Urk."

"... Huh?"

Henri was bewildered. Only two men were not: the ugly-looking soldier, a veteran warrior, and Encrid. "Follow me, Andrew."

This was the moment for which he had placed Andrew directly behind him. His combat experience was woeful, but his skills were quite decent. If a soldier had decent skills, why not put him to good use? Encrid's mistake throughout the previous todays had been trying to solve too much on his own. Now he knew he did not have to. Encrid sprang forward, and Andrew reflexively followed. The fierce-looking soldier spat, "Damn it," and followed him in turn. When the three soldiers reached the other side of the grass, they saw a corpse with a bolt planted squarely in its forehead, and a group of soldiers milling around it. An Aspen crossbow unit. Roughly ten men. Encrid opened with a killing move: a stab. Planting his left foot, he twisted into the thrust, driving his sword point through an enemy soldier's throat.

"Ghk!"

Blood streamed from the wound. The man raised his hands to grab the sword. Encrid immediately planted his foot in the dead soldier's belly and kicked as he pulled his sword free. It left a dark hole, from which fresh blood welled and gushed. Meanwhile, Andrew brought his shortsword down beside him. A quick glance showed Encrid how clumsy the swing was. Andrew was visibly flustered by the sudden order to follow. He had merely seen an enemy and swung on reflex. CLANG!

The enemy soldier tossed aside his crossbow and drew a dagger to block.

'Clumsy.'

But that was all right. One reason Encrid had brought Andrew here was the extra that came attached to him. The fierce-looking soldier moved. He neither shouted nor made any wild movements. Circling behind the man who had blocked Andrew's shortsword, he gripped the enemy's jaw with his right hand and cupped his head with his left, then violently twisted his hands in opposite directions. CRACK!

The enemy's head bent to an impossible angle. Naturally, he died. The fierce-looking soldier then drew the shortsword at his waist and whirled around like a top. WHOOSH.

His shortsword cut across the middle of the throat exposed between the helmet and breastplate of the soldier behind him. The severed skin gaped open for an instant.

SPLURT. SPLURT.

Jets of blood spurted from the slashed throat. Watching this, Encrid kicked the ankle of the enemy beside him. Focused on the sword in Encrid's hand, the soldier toppled sideways. Encrid kicked the fallen man's head. THWACK! CRACK.

His neck broke, and he gave a strange, gurgling scream before losing consciousness.

"A-an ambush!"

"Enemy soldiers!" Only then did the startled enemies cry out. Only then did everyone behind Encrid join the fight, including the former thugs who were supposed to know their way around a brawl.

"Kill them all," Encrid said. TWANG!

He had barely finished speaking when Henri's bolt flew. It struck the soldier in front of Encrid in the chest, punching through his gambeson with a thud and drawing a flow of red blood.

"You fuck—"

The soldier tried to say something. Encrid never got to hear the rest: he immediately drove his sword into the man's throat, opening a hole. "Whew."

He exhaled, resting muscles that had moved so violently in such a short time. Steel clanged around him.

He did not have to take on everyone alone. Reminding himself of that newly realized fact, he was about to turn when— HISSS!

A grating sound came from three paces ahead. He had witnessed this scene many times already. The cry of an animal bristling with wariness.

He turned his eyes and confirmed its source. Jet-black fur came into view. That creature was the reason some of the enemy crossbowmen stationed here had let their guard down. Throughout his repeated todays, Encrid had scouted several possible places for an ambush. Sacrificing his own life in the process, he had chosen this as the most advantageous spot. The reason was right there. That little animal wandering the grassland must have drawn these crossbowmen's attention. It was the sort of creature that would. Encrid already knew. It had helped him, though that had not exactly been its intention. The owner of that jet-black fur regarded Encrid with blue eyes. Encrid's own blue eyes looked back. Their gazes met.

He saw one of the enemy soldiers click his tongue and thrust an infantry shortspear downward, aiming for the black-furred animal. 'I suppose I owe you.'

He had no intention of letting it die. Encrid swept a hand across his chest and thrust his arm forward. His arm stopped with every finger extended, his hand perpendicular to the ground. With that sequence of movements, the knife tucked against his chest flew through the air. The knife whistled into the enemy's shoulder area, making the man with the shortspear falter.

YAAOWL!

Seizing the opening, the animal, barely half a forearm long, let out a terrifying shriek and tore into the soldier's calf. Flesh and blood burst outward. It did not stop there. The animal dug its forepaw into the place it had bitten. Its claws and fur glistened with blood as it gouged the wound, then darted nimbly away. "You little son of a bitch!"

The soldier with the mangled calf drove his shortspear into the ground, but the black-furred animal had already dodged clear.

'What a little thing.'

An extraordinary creature. It was an incredibly clever and ferocious black panther cub. Before the soldier with the knife in his shoulder could lash out, the fierce-looking soldier killed him. The ease with which he appeared behind the enemy and slit his throat spoke of long practice. The screams stopped. Andrew killed the last enemy. From a glance, it looked as though he had stabbed the man's torso several times with his shortsword, knocked him to the ground, and stabbed his face. After killing him, Andrew gasped for breath. He was not the only one. Panting came from all around.

"Hah, hah, whew, whew... Fuck, what was that?"

A startled ally asked the question. Encrid recognized his face but could not remember his name. Instead, Encrid's gaze picked out an ally among the corpses. That one died no matter what. This time, it looked as though an enemy's shortspear had pierced his face. It was an ugly sight.

He had tried saving the bastard again and again, but whenever he did, the man would inevitably desert halfway through to save his own skin, ruining everything. Encrid knew that from his repeated todays. "Enemy soldiers. Didn't you know this could happen on patrol? Don't forget. We have to make it back alive."

Once again drawing out their hunger for life, Encrid led the squad members on.

"This way." The fierce-looking soldier stopped him with a word.

"That's farther in, Squad Leader."

"Refusing orders? If you wanted to defy me, you should've done it earlier." Encrid crushed the objection and walked on in silence, as though they had no choice but to follow. Silent pressure and coercion. It had to be that way. There was no time to explain everything. As he ran, he glanced sideways and saw the black panther cub's eyes. Blue eyes, like deep lakes. Encrid looked at those eyes, so similar in color to his own, then turned away.

Right now, more than anything, it was time to fight desperately to survive. Not to bond with an animal.