Chapter 282 - The Pain That Kills Me Only Makes Me Stronger

"Everyone is assembled."

Every soldier except those on patrol had gathered. Standing on a platform at one side of the parade ground, Encrid surveyed them with an impassive expression.

'Will this work?'

He had his doubts. Part of him thought it might be pointless. A speech, out of nowhere?

It had been Krais's request. As the strategy meeting drew to a close, he had asked,

["What does a group in crisis need? What do people facing danger need?"]

He answered his own question.

["It's simple. Our territory needs someone to rally around right now."]

He flung out his arms as he spoke. The gesture made him look like an actor onstage, but it also seemed fitting. It drew everyone's attention.

At Krais's explanation, Encrid glanced toward the head of the conference table. A man sat at the far end of the angular table: the unfortunate soul in charge, with shadows of exhaustion beneath his eyes.

["The Battalion Commander?"]

One of the Platoon Commanders murmured the suggestion, his voice full of doubt even as he spoke.

["Well, with apologies to Battalion Commander Graham, no one around here is better known than the Lunatic Company Commander right now. And some people are staying in the territory solely because of Captain Encrid. Not all of them have agreed to fight on our side, have they?"]

Krais went straight to his conclusion without embarrassing Graham. By not dragging the discussion out, he spared Graham's dignity. And he was right.

As Marcus had intended, they had poured gold into recruiting most of the mercenaries into the army, but not all. Some still had only one foot in the door. They might watch, then flee if things went wrong, or even join the enemy. Swordsmen who switched sides to suit themselves were hardly rare.

["There's also the matter of our soldiers' morale."]

Krais raised his right index finger beside his face as he spoke.

The Cultists and Black Blade had deliberately spread rumors: Aspen was about to invade; Marcus had actually plotted a rebellion and would be beheaded; the Cultists might drive demonic beasts into the territory as early as tonight.

The constabulary had taken up clubs to suppress the rumors spreading through the territory. Would that work?

'No.'

Encrid, too, privately thought it a problem. You couldn't beat people's mouths shut. Nor could you stop words with your hands. Then how could they stop them?

Krais folded his finger into his fist and swept it down as he continued.

["You stop rumors with actions that draw even more attention."]

Hence the need for someone to rally around. To use the embarrassing old term so common in histories, legends, and myths: a hero.

After the last battle, that was how Encrid might well look, especially to those who had fought beside him. The man who used to struggle along right next to them was now an Independent Company Commander, a symbol of might. It was like a scene from a hero's tale.

In fact, a few musically inclined soldiers had composed songs about him. Not that any were worth listening to.

["Yeah, that's true."]

Vengeance blurted it out before he could stop himself, then hurriedly glanced at the Battalion Commander to gauge his reaction. It wasn't something to say in front of him.

But Graham agreed as well. Honestly, he had thought more than once about simply letting that bastard be Battalion Commander instead. Had he never craved glory? No, that wasn't it.

'In a shitshow like this...'

Wasn't a lunatic like that exactly what they needed?

Above all, Graham wouldn't mind if it were Encrid. He could hand over both command of the battalion and responsibility for the territory to him. There was no grand reason. He simply couldn't help wanting that crazy bastard to do well.

Whether that feeling extended to giving up his own position was another question, but the Lunatic Company Commander wasn't incapable of doing his job. Looking only at the management of the territory, it might not be a bad idea. Idle thoughts.

["Go ahead."]

Graham's exhaustion-worn face relaxed a little. The discussion had given him that much relief. Nor were any of the nobles who would ordinarily spout nonsense present. That was another weight off his mind.

["Are you sure this is wise?"]

Palto raised a token objection, but it was only words. He, too, thought they needed to do something right away, whether it would work or not.

And so Encrid had ended up on the platform.

["Let's fight hard. That's all you need to say."]

Krais had told him just before he went up, and Encrid had nodded.

["What we need right now is to keep out as many infiltrators as possible and show the outside world that we're fine. That means showing the soldiers something they can trust and follow. Battalion Commander, get some proper rest first. Then stand behind him during the speech with a carefree face and clap. You can handle what comes afterward as you see fit."]

It was like a stage play, a calculated performance to raise the soldiers' morale and thwart the enemy's intentions. Encrid had agreed to take part. That was what had brought him to this platform.

He could see veteran soldiers among the murmuring ranks, some familiar faces and some unfamiliar. No snow was falling, but the sky was still dark. Then, as the clouds briefly parted and sunlight broke through, Encrid spoke.

"Do you think we'll lose?"

None of the soldiers answered. They simply stared at him. There were so many assembled that even shouting wouldn't carry properly to them all. Behind him, Esther, in human form, gestured with her hand. It was a spell to carry his voice farther.

Encrid thought of Krang. Their time together had been brief, but the impression he had left was profound. Something that went beyond listening well, something that held everyone around him in its sway.

THUMP.

His heart beat, and heat boiled deep in his lower belly.

"I don't think we'll lose."

That simple, clear statement carried far. It held nothing but conviction.

How could he be like that? The question about Encrid met the thoughts they had always had. How could he train every day in a way that bordered on abuse? How could that man be like that?

"We won't lose. Defend Border Guard."

At his third statement, a soldier called out.

"How do you endure it? How do you train like that?"

He was one of the recruits who had been worked so hard that the very thought of training made him shudder. He had lived by stealing here and there before joining the Gilfin Guild, and later had seen Encrid fight in the territory. He had enlisted then and there, deciding to become part of the army.

Encrid had just been thinking that he would never make much of a public speaker. All he could do was speak sincerely. So he welcomed the question. Thanks to it, his true feelings slipped out before he knew it.

"The pain that kills me makes me stronger."

What did the deeper meaning of those words matter? Silence settled over them. Many of the soldiers turned his words over in their minds.

Sunlight pierced the clouds, as though the light of dawn were shining down from the darkened sky. The soldiers within its reach felt a gentle warmth. The silence lingered for a while.

Just as Encrid wondered whether he ought to say something else, one of the soldiers shouted.

"Pain for me, too!"

What was that supposed to mean? He stared down at them. Whatever his thoughts, his expression remained impassive, and the soldiers drew a strange reassurance and confidence from that expressionless face.

"I'll overcome the pain!"

Another soldier shouted.

"I can do it, too!"

And another.

"The pain that kills me!"

"Makes me stronger!"

A strange chant was born. Fortunately, though, things went as Krais had predicted. The soldiers' morale began to surge almost visibly.

Watching from the side, Rem blinked and asked,

"Isn't it 'The pain that doesn't kill me makes me stronger'? I think I've heard something like that before."

Yes, it had come out wrong. He had said it because he knew that death made him stronger.

"As long as we get the result we wanted."

Palto spoke almost to himself.

The cheering, roaring mass of soldiers was different from yesterday. Just when rumors and enemy scheming might have begun driving men to desert, Encrid's speech had filled them with burning fervor.

Pain would only make them stronger. Pain enough to kill would only make them stronger. In his case, it was actually pain that fucking killed him that made him stronger, but that wasn't important.

The soldiers were swept up in it. All the training that had ground them down and toughened them up had played a part, too. Hadn't they seen for themselves how they had changed?

Some knew Encrid, and some of those knew his Lunatic Company as well. Even those unfamiliar with their exploits had at least heard of them. These were the words of a man like that.

During a brief lull in the roars and cheers, Encrid sensed something ominous here and there among the soldiers.

["We can't stop every spy. We can only weed out as many as possible."]

Krais's words suddenly came back to him.

Even Encrid couldn't find every spy hidden among the troops. But perhaps he could exert a powerful influence on them. It was a spur-of-the-moment inspiration.

His voice rang out loud and clear amid the cheering.

"My name is Encrid! The Lunatic Company Commander! I'm going to take the enemy commander's head! Tonight! Look forward to it!"

An act worthy of a lunatic. Behind him, Rem whispered again.

"We're going tonight?"

The soldiers' roaring cheers shook the platform. Feeling it vibrate beneath his feet, Jaxon heard Rem's question, considered it, and reached a conclusion. He, too, had sensed the hostile air mingled among their allies.

"No, we're not, you stupid barbarian."

Jaxon had quickly grasped his Captain's intention.

Rem spoke as though he hadn't heard him.

"Let's leave this bastard behind. He's useless anyway, eh?"

Ignoring the chatter behind him, Encrid drew his sword.

SHIIING!

A soft blue gleam rose, cleaving the sunlight.

"All troops, to your positions!"

"Waaaaaah!"

The cheering grew louder.

"Pain!"

"Grant us pain!"

"Oh, pain!"

So did the chanting.

Graham wondered if this was really all right, but the end result was a boost in morale. More than they had hoped for.

Krais sometimes thought Encrid didn't understand his own standing. It made sense when you thought about it. Seen from within Border Guard, Encrid was twice the lunatic and twice the monster he seemed from outside.

And how would people feel on hearing that this lunatic, this monster, was on their side and would lead them into battle? They would go wild. Their morale would soar. Everything was going as predicted.

Graham didn't care what Krais was thinking. He only knew that the moment had come. Morale was high, and the men chanted with madness in their eyes. This was a time for passion, not cool heads. The veterans who had gone ahead would provide the cool heads themselves.

Graham shouted,

"All troops, advaaance!"

No sooner had they formed up on the parade ground than the units began moving out, one after another. The Day and Night operation had begun.

* * *

Gilfin stole a glance at the Frog's face, bristling with wariness. If anything went wrong, wouldn't he be the one beaten to death?

["It's fine. The deal's done. He's a guild member now."]

Whatever he had done, Krais, the real guild leader, had taken the Frog into the guild.

Gilfin wondered whether this was a good idea. Wasn't this the Frog who had come to the guild mansion and wrecked it twice?

Still, he had his orders, and he was loyal. Had anything bad ever come of listening to Krais? No. Told to dig a Tunnel, he had dug one. Told to accept the Frog, he had accepted him. He followed Krais's instructions faithfully.

"This way, please."

By contrast, Meellun the Frog showed no wariness at all.

"I'm hungry."

"Here."

Fresh out of prison, Meellun drank bug stew while looking at the balding human. Crunching through the grubs, he felt happy all over again. He ate fruit and human food as well, but nothing beat bug stew. Its flavor and nourishment were superb.

After Meellun had spent three days eating and lazing about, Gilfin cautiously spoke to him.

"Could you perhaps keep an eye on the people coming and going?"

"Oh, sure."

Meellun readily got up.

He quite liked the terms Krais had offered, especially the fact that he wasn't being forced into a covenant.

'That bastard Fromshell made me enter a covenant first.'

He had known the Frogs' weakness and exploited it. Krais had done the opposite.

["Eat what you want and do what you want. Just do it inside the territory."]

["Why should I?"]

["What is it you want to do? I want to let you do it to your heart's content."]

Meellun had not answered readily. Frogs were a race driven by desire. Krais was clever, and his ability to read people was even keener. He had sensed Meellun's wariness.

["Why should I tell you that?"]

["All you have to do is tell me, and you can leave. Is it so difficult to say? Tell me, and I'll open the cell door right away."]

Seeing him give ground first, Meellun had spoken.

["Achievement. That moment of victory is what I crave."]

Krais was clever. He had grasped the key point immediately. Meellun spoke of victory and achievement, but not of the fighting itself. Plenty of people wanted results rather than effort. There was no reason a Frog couldn't be the same.

["Then having plenty of easy opponents would be nice."]

["Mere sparring won't satisfy me."]

He stuck out his long tongue as he spoke, showing his displeasure. He meant that he enjoyed the moment of victory in a raw, real fight.

["Ah, perfect. We get plenty of those types in Border Guard. If someone seems likely to cause more trouble than you can handle, just say so. We have other people to deal with them."]

People like Rem, for instance. Or Rem. Or perhaps Rem. A man who enjoyed having lunatics come at him. The rest, those with proper martial skills or swordsmanship, would be Encrid's share.

Quite a few swordsmen, mercenaries, and merchants still visited the town. Half of them were drawn by Encrid's formidable reputation.

'He could serve as a rough filter, too.'

That was what would happen if the Frog beat up most of them.

["You want me to roam the territory as I please?"]

["Even better if you find people who seem to be hiding their skills and beat them up, wouldn't you say?"]

What made a fight raw and real? The opponent mattered. Someone who would truly come at him. The satisfaction of beating such an opponent...

The mere thought thrilled Meellun. His skin reacted, secreting slippery oil.

["Without a covenant?"]

["Without one."]

Krais smiled. What did a covenant matter? Frogs had developed covenants to control their desires. Put their wants and desires first, and they would stay even without one. Meellun was naive.

And so he joined the guild and began roaming busily about the territory.

Gilfin had detected efforts to push them out of the backstreets. A few new faces had appeared and begun talking about forming a guild. Among them was the fighter they had put forward.

He was a man with two thick scars across his face. He carried a heavy mace; a blow from that wouldn't leave you merely complaining that it stung. His skill was plainly far from ordinary.

Still, proto-knight-level skill was hardly common, and he was nothing special. At best, about the level of a Border Guard member from the old days? He was no match for a Frog.

"Oh, yeah? You're going to fight me, right?"

Meellun smiled. His opponent looked just the right level. Toying with him before winning ought to be entertaining enough.

"Why is there a Frog here?"

The man's eyes darted about as he spoke.

"Does that matter?"

Meellun raised his Loop Sword as he answered.

The Frog's unexpected appearance had flustered the man. The outcome of the fight went without saying.

* * *

"Failed?"

The Wolf Bishop leading the Cultists stopped chewing his meat to speak. A half-chewed scrap flew onto the table.

"Yes. We've lost contact with the group sent in to take over the backstreets."

"Send in more."

The bishop found the situation decidedly unentertaining, but he also thought he couldn't be the first to act.

'Are you going to do nothing but watch and wait?'

Shouldn't the one who had started this be the first to draw his sword?

Above all, there was intelligence that an assassination unit would be sent after the commanders that very night. Was he supposed to sit there and take it?

"How dare they come after me?"

It would be fun to cut off the attackers' heads, mount them on poles, and carry them into battle. The Wolf Bishop cackled.

But no attackers came that night. Instead, the next morning, Border Guard's standing army marched out beyond the walls. They headed toward the position where Black Blade's forces were stationed.