Chapter 318 - I Should at Least Thank Everyone for Their Hard Work

He should at least thank everyone for their hard work. His head spun when he stood up. He had been lying down too long. He might have staggered, but he quickly steadied himself. His senses, honed through repetitions of today, corrected the subtle differences from his usual condition and allowed him to adapt. 'Not bad.'

He appreciated it anew. Standing straight, he turned his head to look around. Beside him, Ragna was eating porridge one-handed, bandages wrapped around one shoulder and his torso. After swallowing a mouthful, Ragna ran his eyes over Encrid. Sinar did the same. They shared the same thought. They had not noticed while he was lying down, but now that he was standing, something about him seemed different. That was only natural. Dodging was not the only thing Encrid had learned through countless repetitions of today. Still, there was no need to question him about it right away. Ragna simply looked forward to sparring. His unprecedented enthusiasm had yet to fade. "Is it good?" Encrid asked.

Ragna nodded. No one had fed him, but the fellow who had come with that soldier, Helma or whatever her name was, had cooked him porridge. It tasted different from their usual meals. Had he said he had put boned eel in it this time? Encrid began loosening up little by little. It had been two days. Ragna rose as well. Wasn't this his chance to laze about to his heart's content? The members of the Lunatic Company were hard to read, so Encrid did not bother trying to understand what he was thinking. "Feeling better?"

"It was only a slight sprain to begin with." A slight sprain had kept him in bed for three days, so a broken bone would surely kill him. Naturally. Encrid did not voice the thought. That was simply how these people were. Rem, Ragna, Jaxon, Audin—were any of them different? Arguing would not change them. Instead of speaking, Encrid moved. He performed movements from the Isolation Technique that aided recovery, feeling his muscles and extending his arms to gradually warm his body. He stimulated the uninjured areas to make his blood circulate faster. Despite the winter, faint wisps of steam began rising from him. ["A cold? Move and warm up your body. A broken bone? Move and warm up your body. A laceration? Move and warm up your body."] That was Audin's way of dealing with injuries. Even Rem had snorted in disbelief beside him, but strictly speaking, he was not wrong. At least, it was possible to some extent once the Isolation Technique had conditioned the body. The Isolation Technique improved basic fitness. A body conditioned that way naturally circulated blood rapidly even at rest. Since circulating blood helped heal wounds, the idea was to stimulate that process. Encrid had already experienced firsthand how strengthening his muscles and increasing his strength improved his ability to recover. Even so, this was rather fast. Fast enough to call his recovery monstrous. Naturally, Esther, sleeping off to one side with her head buried in her forepaws, had contributed too. She had stimulated his regeneration while sleeping in his arms. It was a minor trick that scarcely qualified as a spell. These various factors had put him back on his feet, so Sinar had good reason to be surprised. "You really do have a fascinating body."

Sinar voiced her impression from a chair off to one side of the barracks. She had one knee drawn up, her arms wrapped around it. Encrid nodded casually. Now that he had warmed up and was wearing only a short-sleeved shirt, Sinar's eyes roamed over his body.

"I suppose I do." Eating, sleeping, waking and recovering. Reviewing battles while everyone watched. It was routine for Encrid. Having everyone gathered together like this felt perfectly natural too. The Medical Barracks was quite large, big enough to accommodate about twenty grown men. A large brazier stood in the center, with Esther curled up asleep directly beneath it. Ragna sat beside her, while Encrid exercised near the brazier. Sinar was by the entrance. Farther inside, Dunbachel was nodding off. Dunbachel had quite a few minor wounds as well, but no serious injuries. He had later heard that as soon as she learned he was caught in a trap, she had charged out ahead of everyone. Apparently she had raced to the front like a madwoman. The Beastman who had once served as a Black Blade lackey had become one of his unit before he knew it. Why? Encrid sometimes wondered. Why had these people gathered around him? Krais, the soldier nicknamed Big-eyes for his large eyes, sat in a chair about two paces from the brazier.

"It was my mistake," he said abruptly. Encrid stopped moving to ask, "What was?"

"You were in danger because I failed to anticipate the situation. That's what." The remark lacked any context, but Encrid understood well enough. Big-eyes had been desperately trying to read the enemy's intentions, hadn't he?

"It would have been stranger if you had seen it coming." Encrid meant it. Their opponent seemed to be the lunatic here. At those words, Krais turned his eyes toward him. They held a deep emotion: bewilderment mixed with disbelief. "Even though you nearly died because of it?"

Krais looked into Encrid's eyes. How could they hold not a trace of resentment? Why was that gaze always so unwavering? He wondered how a person could be like this. "I'm alive. I'm not a ghost or anything."

He was not dead. That was enough. "Captain, you really..."

A bleak feeling swept over Krais, but he quickly buried it. Right. What good would arguing do? It was not as though he didn't know his Captain was this sort of man. 'What's gotten into him?'

Look at him. Wasn't he asking that with his eyes even now? He had nearly died, yet bore no resentment. It had happened while he was penetrating enemy lines at Krais's request, but he did not hold Krais responsible. Ragna beside him cared as little as Encrid did. Even when Encrid questioned him with his eyes, he merely returned a look that asked what he was talking about. "Ah, never mind. Forget it."

Krais shook off the lingering emotion. There was no point in asking. The man would not care anyway, and dwelling on it would only hurt Krais himself. No Krona were at stake, but he hated taking a loss, so letting it go was the right thing to do. Through this rational train of thought, he pulled himself together. What next? Review, just as his Captain had taught him. Having heard how Encrid had escaped danger, listened to everything that had happened to Ragna, and checked the enemy troops' movements, Krais realized he had been thoroughly outplayed. Who was he, some great strategist, to foresee all of that? Yet his Captain had nearly died as a result. The man had saved his life before, and Krais had nearly killed his own savior. Even setting aside the Captain's astonishing innocence, the thought sent a fresh chill down his spine. 'Predicting a battlefield.'

It carried that much risk. He had learned through a painful failure this time. He had also learned that anything could happen on a battlefield. The enemy's scheme gave him fresh chills too. The more he thought about it, the more he wondered what kind of crazy bastard would do that.

'Sending out a group of proto knights would put us on guard.'

So instead, he would use ordinary soldiers to catch one member of a small elite force? Utter madness. Sacrifice a thousand soldiers to catch one man? A man who wasn't even a knight? No, it was possible. He should have anticipated it. Krais considered that his job. Yet he had failed. Why? Because he lacked experience. No, he could not dismiss it as mere inexperience. This could happen again. Then what should he do? He needed to broaden his thinking, put no limits on what he could imagine. He had to consider the strangest thing his opponent might do.

'Not a dragon flying overhead!'

That was not a possibility worth considering, but an escapist fantasy. Encrid had not intended it, but Krais reflected on his mistakes. Above all, seeing his Captain remain so steadfast even when his own life was at stake gave Krais plenty to think about.

'Never again.'

He would not make the same mistake. Having sorted out his thoughts, Krais made a pointless remark.

"I keep telling you, let's just open a salon."

No matter how often he said it, Encrid would never listen. "If you open one, I'll come visit."

Sure he would. He would spend that time swinging a sword instead. Wow. How could he so casually say things he would never follow through on? Because he knew Krais could not actually open a salon anytime soon. Well, if he really opened one, Encrid would drop by briefly. He kept his word. That was the Captain. But he might start swinging a sword and training inside the salon. 'The worst. The absolute worst.'

As his imagination branched out, he deliberately brought it to a halt. Bent at the waist and holding his toes, Encrid watched Krais's ever-changing expressions. They were entertaining. Krais finally ended his flight of fancy and shook his head. Regret was regret. Once he had learned what there was to learn, he needed to move on. It was a lesson he had learned in childhood. So that was what Krais did. No one had particularly comforted him, but he shook it off. What could he do about a mistake already made?

'Did I even accomplish anything?' In fact, he had accomplished a great deal. Without Krais, Encrid would have fallen into two or three more layers of Abnaire's trap. Esther had played her part too. By killing the mage Galaf, she had eliminated a means of cutting off Encrid's retreat. Ragna's presence had helped as well. What had been the original role of the proto knight he killed? Sinar and Dunbachel had also contributed greatly. Without them, one flank might have collapsed in the first battle. The enemy forces attacking the rear might have posed a genuine threat to Border Guard rather than merely feinting. Then the supply lines would have been compromised. Their retreat might have been cut off too. Everything could have gone awry. The people before him had held this battlefield. Encrid sincerely believed that. If there were any heartfelt words he should neither hide nor hold back, they were words like these. Encrid stopped moving. He knew how to put sincerity and earnestness into his words, and he did so. He straightened, lowered his hands, and looked around, drawing everyone's attention. Then he spoke. "I should at least thank everyone for their hard work." Ragna stopped spooning up porridge. Krais blinked, and Dunbachel lifted her drowsing head. By the entrance, Sinar stared at Encrid and spoke. "You say things like that without so much as a blush. They don't call you Irresistible for nothing, I see."

She lowered her raised knee and interlaced her fingers before her chest. "That's not what I meant."

As he protested the Fairy-style joke, Krais blinked and said, "Aren't you the one who went through the most, Captain?"

His tone was incredulous. Esther briefly woke to look at Encrid, then tapped the ground with a forepaw. She seemed to be saying, Don't mention it. Ragna looked straight at Encrid and said, "I fought for myself," then went back to eating. Dunbachel nodded in agreement.

"Right. I worked hard too." What an entertaining Fairy, humans, Beastman, and mage. Encrid sincerely thought so. "Where did Jaxon go?" Krais asked.

"He said he needed to go somewhere."

"Where?"

"No idea."

"You let him go without knowing?"

"What else should I do?" Well, these were not people who could be held back just because someone tried. Encrid's attitude had been consistent since their days as the troublemaker squad. Each of you do what you need to do. I won't get in your way. Ragna had no interest whatsoever. What did it matter whether the Sneaky alley cat was here or not? He sat lost in thought, going over what he had gained. The flame of his enthusiasm had yet to die. Sinar observed Encrid, while Dunbachel brought her scimitar to a whetstone. SHHNK, SHHNK! She sprinkled on a little water from her canteen and pushed the blade along the stone, sharpening its edge. As befitted a former mercenary, her hands knew how to care for her weapon. Sitting there, Krais marveled that such peculiar people had somehow all come together. Everyone was passing the time in their own way. Encrid had begun moving again to warm his body when it happened. RIIIP! The sound of tearing canvas rang out. Sinar reacted first. SHING! Without any warning, she drew Nidle. She was already on her feet. Esther opened her eyes, and Ragna gripped his spoon like a sword. "Uh, hmm, looks like the right one. Black hair, blue eyes, a fairly handsome face."

Cold wind swept through the slit in the tent. The voice came with it. WHOOOSH. The flames in the brazier swayed wildly, setting the shadows dancing. Evening had passed, and the sunset was over. Blue moonlight from outside mingled with the red glow of the brazier. Someone stood where the two lights met. "Sorry about this," he said.