Chapter 301 - Because He Had Not Been Wrong

WAAAAAH! Cheers battered their ears the moment they entered Border Guard. The sound sent shivers through their bodies. How could it not, with everyone coming out to shout? "My ears are going to fall off." Among the exhausted soldiers, through the falling snowflakes, people cheered. Black Blade had threatened them. Cultists had descended upon them. Officially, it had been Viscount Tarnin's army, but that was like dressing a Ghoul in human clothes. An obvious ploy. Everyone who knew anything knew the truth. Even the innkeepers knew. Aspen still remained, but some moments could not be allowed to pass unmarked. When was life most precious? When a threat had been overcome. When danger had passed. When you truly felt alive. That was how the people of Border Guard felt now. They had all escaped the threat and overcome the danger. Some had been unable to bear it and fled in the night. Others had lost their nerve and escaped beforehand. But there were also those who had stayed in the city. They did not spare their voices. They shouted as though their hearts would burst. "You! For you, I'll give up what I've been saving for twenty years!" shouted Vanessa the innkeeper. Since losing her first husband at twenty-five, Vanessa had taken no other man. She guarded her body jealously. If anyone tried anything, she would swing an iron pot at him. "Who'd want that?" a burly mercenary beside her shouted. Apparently wounded in battle, he had bandages wound from his left eye to his chin, with red showing through them. He roared with laughter as though he felt no pain. It was bound to reopen his wounds. "I wasn't talking to you!"

"Get a grip, innkeeper!" Everyone laughed. The mercenary kept bellowing. "You fight bloody brilliantly!"

"Damn brilliantly!" Rough men's voices rose in answer to the mercenary's call. Women's almost shrill cheers mingled with them. Everyone was drunk on victory. "Good grief. Has everyone forgotten Aspen's still out there? Is this really the time?" Krais grumbled. Rem stroked the back of Krais's head. SMACK! He had been so eager to stroke it that his hand had arrived a little too quickly. Rubbing the spot where he had been hit, Krais turned his head at an angle. Rem snickered. "Enjoy yourself while you can, you little shit."

"Will you be enjoying yourself right before you die, too?"

"Look at you, enjoying yourself right now. And I'm about to split your skull into six pieces with my axe."

"Enough." Encrid intervened. Left alone, Krais would get a few more blows, even if his skull remained intact. "Bullying the weak because you're weak yourself is a bad habit," Ragna remarked. Somehow, the wounded had ended up to Encrid's left and the unhurt to his right. Rem, Audin, and Teresa on the left. Ragna, Jaxon, and Dunbachel on the right. "Huh? What was that? Can't hear too well when it's coming from a dumbass who gets lost every five minutes." Rem cupped a hand behind his ear. This time, Jaxon answered. "Bullying the weak. Bad habit. Don't do it." He added a gesture, sweeping his hand from side to side, as though explaining something to a pet. Whether people were cheering or calling him Rem the Undying made no difference. Rem drew his axe. "Want to come closer and say that?"

"No. Stay. Ah-ah, no." Jaxon crossed his hands and continued gesturing. Leave this alone and something was going to explode. Ragna saw it and added another remark. It was like pouring dozens of barrels of oil from somewhere onto an existing fire. "One gets his arm broken by a single dog, the other barely makes it back alive." There was no particular intent to provoke in Ragna's tone. That was both his strength and his weakness. Speaking sincerely was a strength. Not bothering to hide what he thought was a weakness. Right now, of course, it was a weakness. "Ho ho, brother. Would you care to enter your eternal rest?" Audin did not flare up. He simply moved quietly. Ragna genuinely thought them weak. Encrid heard every word. If he left them to it, their cheering welcome would end in bloodshed. They were all subtly building their presence. It had been a while. Come to think of it, they had been getting along remarkably well lately. In a way, this might even count as great progress. At least they were taking sides this time. Rem and Audin on one side, Ragna and Jaxon on the other. No, seen that way, perhaps it was an even bigger shitshow. "Aren't you going to stop them?" Krais, with his keen instincts, must have felt faint at the prospect too. He discreetly prodded Encrid's side. By now, Encrid was an expert at stopping them. One remark would suffice. "I think I'm faster than you now, Rem." The quietly rising pressure ebbed. What was that supposed to mean? Rem asked again. "What did you just say?"

"See for yourself later." The murderous pressure faded, and Encrid turned his gaze to the horse in the lead. The panther, who had briefly shown her face before going in ahead, had looked tired but unhurt. The wild horse Odd-Eyes walked proudly without anyone holding the reins, busily surveying the surroundings. All these gathered people might have frightened a horse, but not this one. Horses were generally timid. This one remained composed, perhaps thanks to the mettle that had let it withstand demonic-beast blood. It trusted its abilities and was confident it could escape if anything went wrong. Having seen it racing around the battlefield fighting, Encrid thought that confidence justified. 'This one's a member of the unit, too.'

Encrid acknowledged it to himself. They left the cheers behind and went into the city. Rem stepped in front of Encrid. "Ta-da, ta-da! Time to check. Let's see just what's so fast."

"Are you well enough?" Encrid asked out of genuine concern, not to provoke him. "Fuuuck." That was Rem's answer. He stretched his mouth wide as he spoke, pairing it with a masterful expression of resentment. A splendid performance. His face looked grotesque. It was a warm, harmonious conversation. "Let's see it. If you're slower than me, you won't enjoy what comes next." Ah, the funny bastard. Encrid took his stance. With everyone watching outside the barracks, he repeated the process behind his breakthrough. He could not yet launch the thrust at once, and he was still clumsy at imbuing it with determination. But once it took hold, he was faster than Lycanos. It was like the Will of refusal. He was unskilled at wielding it, but when it activated, it was overwhelming. Relaxation, contraction, explosion. He repeated the same process and thrust. The sword shot straight out, folding space and cleaving sound. CLAAANG! Rem tried to knock the sword aside with his axe, but failed. He had no choice but to block it with the flat of the axe head. That was what produced the metallic clang. "Nice block," Encrid said, genuinely impressed. He had not been deliberately trying to kill him, but it had hardly been an easy thrust to block. "... What did you do while I was gone?" Rem made no attempt to hide his surprise. Nor was he alone. "Hmm." Ragna cleared his throat briefly. Jaxon's half-lidded eyes opened wide, and Audin froze with his smile still in place, like a finely crafted statue. Ragna was relatively composed, having seen it once already. But seeing something once did not make it familiar. If anything, this proved that killing Lycanos had been no fluke. He was just as surprised as the others. A single word flashed through his mind. 'Fast.' Even now, it was fast. Speed was relative. Viewed that way, how many people could block that thrust? The barbarian, the bear of a religious nut, and the alley cat could manage it. The Beastman and Teresa would struggle. Ah, Teresa could do it if she committed to raising her shield. But the Beastman could not. Not so much because of a difference in skill between the two, but because of how they fought. He could see other weaknesses, too.

'But the gap after each thrust is far too long.'

The instant acceleration was more impressive than ever, but... "Let's try again once you've properly made it your own, eh?" That bastard Rem was right. Encrid had not properly made it his own. His arm trembled, his stance subtly collapsed, and his balance faltered. Of course, none of that diminished the strike he had just delivered. 'Will focused on speed.' In other words, Encrid's thrust was at the level of a proto knight. Without grasping a fragment of Will, he could never have produced a technique that transcended his limits like that. 'Refusal and the stab.'

Two fragments of Will. Strange, but probably not impossible. Still, he had never seen a human quite like this. Then again, if Encrid had been ordinary, Ragna would not have stayed at his side this long. "Let's do that," Encrid replied calmly. Amid the thickly falling snow, each retreated into their own world. Everyone present felt the same. Watching Encrid brought a merciless surge of motivation. "Father." Audin expressed it in prayer. Dunbachel's eyes burned. Teresa forgot her injuries, desperate for a fight. And Krais, who had watched it all, said: "Seriously? You're just going to stand around sparring right now?"

"What, should we shovel snow instead?" Rem shot back. Rather than sighing, Krais steadied his breathing and turned to Encrid. "Captain, I'll ask one last time."

"Go ahead."

"Bite his head off." At Dunbachel's nonsense from the side, Rem kicked her in the backside. "Haven't had enough of a beating yet, have you?"

"Why do you always pick on me?"

"Why do you think?" Leaving those two behind him, Krais continued. "You're going to keep fighting, aren't you?" There was much contained in that question. They could retreat now. If they gave up Green Pearl, defending Border Guard would be easy. With this crisis past, the forces in Martai could move as well. The Cultists' activity had prevented them from freely pulling out, but by now they would be marching this way. They would probably arrive tomorrow. Even so, would he go out and fight? "What if we leave them alone?" Encrid asked in return. "Whew. I think you already know the answer, but if we leave them alone, it'll be difficult to protect this city." That was Krais's assessment. There was turmoil within Naurilia. Otherwise, reinforcements should have arrived long ago. At the very least, Count Molsen should not have been able to turn a blind eye like this. 'The central government's reach doesn't extend this far.' Yet they had neatly taken Battalion Commander Marcus away. There were no good signs, however he looked at it. The conclusion remained the same. If they wanted to survive and protect what they had, they had to strike first. They stood to gain by attacking while terrain and timing were both on their side. "What do you think those Aspen bastards are up to?" Encrid withdrew his sword and glanced at the falling snow as he asked. It was coming down harder now. At this rate, everything around them would become a land of white. It was unfortunate for the soldiers, but battle fatigue or not, they would have to clear the snow first. Left alone, it would freeze the drains, and the accumulating weight would collapse the roofs of hastily built wooden buildings. The stone barracks would be fine, but broken fences would take even more work to repair. Better to clear the snow before that happened. While considering the damage the snowfall could cause, Krais also pondered why Aspen had waited and what they wanted. His conclusion was anticlimactic. "I don't know. If they wanted Green Pearl, they should have attacked long ago. I think we need to watch a little longer." He had predictions born of ominous imaginings, but none were particularly likely. "We need to march when the snow stops," Krais added. Encrid nodded. What else was there to do afterward? Rest. He ate and slept. But when the snow kept falling into the evening, complaints broke out among the soldiers. "Let us have a drink and enjoy ourselves, you goddamned snow!" Krais called that spoiled whining. The snow was the only reason they could rest at all. Those determined to drink and rest did so anyway. Instead of drinking, Encrid reflected on what he had gained. He reviewed the fight, going back over everything that had happened, one detail at a time. Had he missed anything? Was there something to learn? Reflecting and reviewing always offered lessons. He spent about a day resting and exercising only his mind. The next day, as he began gently loosening up, Sinar came by. "Put this on." She tossed him some Fairy-made salve. He did not know what went into it, but it was good medicine. His minor wounds quickly closed after applying it. It worked especially well on the burns on his back. "I'll apply it." The Company Commander even spread the salve over his back herself. A sharp sting and a cooling sensation swept across it together. His recovery was swift thanks to the Isolation Technique activating his body's natural healing power. A regenerative body: a body that healed readily even when broken. "Could you give us a few more? We have a lot of wounded." At Encrid's request, Sinar looked around. "A little spit will heal those." With that, the Company Commander swept out. No matter how he looked at it, Rem seemed more seriously injured than he was. "That's favoritism. Favoritism! Why's she only like that with the Captain?"

"You're not asking because you really don't know, are you?" Dunbachel spoke with utter seriousness beside him. "I don't. I have no idea. And since I don't know, let's train, Beastman. Beastman, let's have some fun." At Rem's growl, Dunbachel darted out of the barracks. Her agility was truly outstanding. TAP!

She kicked off the ground and shot through the doorway like a white shadow. She had improved. Visibly so. Outside the barracks, amid the falling snow, Dunbachel stuck out her tongue. "Yeah, right." Rem heard her, but did not rush out. His warming hide had become so worn and tattered that he had patched it into a vest. Wearing it, he considered the matter. It was snowing, and it was cold. Should he go outside and slit that Beastman's throat or not? Catching the Beastman who had stuck out her tongue and fled would take no time at all. As for his various wounds, he could simply let them worsen a little. "Restrain yourself, brother." At Audin's gentle intervention, Rem snorted and lay down. She would return eventually. He could beat her then. Seeing that she alone had escaped injury, she clearly had not lost her habit of pulling back while fighting. It was only right to drill the proper way to fight into her again. That was his duty as the one responsible for her training. Rem swore to himself that he would beat her senseless. Audin, with one arm broken, examined Encrid's shin wound. "This will heal in no time." His own arm did not look as though it would heal anytime soon. Even in this condition, he did not use his divine power. He must have his reasons. Encrid did not ask. He gave a casual nod and went outside. He meant to warm himself up a little. He had also heard there were a few other mercenaries who had fought for the city, and intended to meet them. The snow had eased somewhat. Several soldiers recognized Encrid, stiffened, and saluted. Their reaction was understandable, given what he had shown on the battlefield. It might have been confined to this one battle, but he had unquestionably stood out. As he looked around outside the barracks, he spotted a woman standing at the entrance to the military compound, her nose red from the cold. When he came out, she raised her face. "Ah." She seemed to recognize him. She approached, knelt, and bowed her head. "I was taught that however humble one may be, one must never fail to acknowledge a kindness." The woman looked to be past forty. "Thank you for saving my son." She thanked him through tears. Everyone had told her to give up. Yet he had saved that child. Her child. To her, Encrid was a god. Salvation. Grace. Everything. She would have traded her own life for her child's. Encrid felt a strange elation. His heart trembled. It was as though someone whispered in his ear. "You weren't wrong." It sounded like the voices of the dead Ger and Pitt. "I'm rooting for your dream, mister." The child's voice overlapped with theirs. He wanted to end war on the continent. He wanted to become a knight and bring that end about with his own hands. So that no mother would lose her child to war. That was why he wanted to be a knight. Encrid helped the mother to her feet and quietly sent her home. His fight, his dream, was only beginning. If this were a journey, he had merely reached the starting point. No, he had not even reached that yet. He wanted to become a knight. That faded, tattered dream now lay before his eyes, mended and holding light.