Chapter 331 - How Had the Lunacy Begun?

How had the lunacy begun? It was a day shortly before Encrid took command of the troublemaker squad.

The squad leader who had tried to force them to obey him had croaked. The nobleman's son appointed afterward had gotten cocky and taken a beating from Jaxon. The next man, who liked to shout, had left after Rem threatened him under the guise of "corrective instruction." Even after that, the squad leaders kept changing.

With every new squad leader being driven out, it was only natural that people, including the company commander, had something to say.

"If you intend to remain in the army, shouldn't you at least follow the rules?"

Rem nodded at the company commander, who had come over to tell them that.

"Couldn't agree more! It's all that fucking alley cat's fault."

"The biggest problem would be the mouth of the bastard blaming everyone else."

Naturally, Jaxon responded. Watching them, Ragna spoke without expression.

"I don't mind transferring to another unit."

Rem and Jaxon turned toward him. He sounded as though he belonged in an entirely different category, as though none of this concerned him. His languid tone only made it more irritating.

"This little shit..."

Their most recent squad leader had tried to correct Ragna's indolence—in reality, the man had mistaken his silence for weakness and tried to establish discipline—only to leave with his skull cracked.

And now he had the nerve to act like that? No wonder Rem bristled and Jaxon shot him a razor-edged look. Twenty days had already passed since then without a squad leader.

The company commander had a headache. His superior, the battalion commander, had told him to handle them himself. Did these bastards look like something he could handle? But was saying, "I simply can't do anything with them," really an answer? That would be admitting his own incompetence, calling himself a fucking idiot. What would the battalion commander say?

["You can't even control your own men?"]

Given the battalion commander's prodigious talent for blaming others, it was obvious.

'Why don't you all just go out there and fucking die?'

No matter how dangerous a battlefield he sent them into, they came back with a few scratches at most. Even a scratch would be something. Why were men that skilled wasting their time here? Well, considering their behavior, he could see why.

That bastard Rem had been sent to First Company, the heavy infantry Company, only to crack his superior's skull and end up here. Even now, First Company's men ground their teeth whenever they saw him. And the bastard enjoyed the sound as though he were listening to a symphony.

"Then there is no other choice. Brother, I shall lead them for the time being. This, too, must be a trial the Lord has bestowed upon me. He bids this small, frail servant look upon the world, that I might not turn away from the trials I see."

Audin's offer left the company commander speechless. The religious soldier usually sat quietly, his face dark and lifeless. Why was he pouring oil onto the fire now? And did the bastard even realize how big he was? What part of him was small? What part was frail?

Besides, the commander would sooner sacrifice one of his adjutants than entrust the squad to that religious fanatic. He would spend all day spouting nonsense about praying. No, even if the commander accepted that and appointed him, as if the others would sit quietly by.

"What's that great lump of a bear on about?"

The axe-wielding lunatic spoke first. The lazy one immediately joined in.

"If there's something wrong with your head, take some medicine."

Next, a man whose looks alone ranked among the finest in the unit opened his mouth.

"Do you want to die?"

That bastard Jaxon got along so amiably with soldiers from other units. Why was he such a hopeless mess within his own squad? Gods, his head.

"Enough. A new squad leader is arriving this afternoon. Please don't beat him up or torment him."

As he spoke, the company commander prayed for the new squad leader's safety. What else could he do? With no suitable candidate available, they had brought the man in at short notice. He wasn't a noble, had no particular talent, and was only mediocre in a fight. The commander could only hope there would be no trouble.

The murderous atmosphere remained after the company commander left.

A string of coincidences had brought Rem here. His actual purpose had been to lie low for a while after killing a nobleman's child. He had planned to leave in about half a year. Yet somehow, these bastards had all ended up together.

'Every last one of them thinks he's the greatest thing alive.'

None of them knew when to back down. Rem was no different, of course. The current battalion commander had gathered all his troublemakers in one place because he didn't care whether they died fighting, but Rem had no way of knowing that.

"Might as well kill them all and transfer somewhere else."

Rem muttered it loudly enough for everyone to hear. More precisely, it was a provocation disguised as a mutter.

"You want to die?"

Ragna answered him.

"Brothers, if you wish to dwell at God's side, I shall gladly pray for you."

That prayer would not be made with words alone.

"Morons."

Jaxon joined in as well.

They had insulted one another without readily crossing the line until now, but only because they knew a fight to the death would demand their full effort. Not that any of them were inclined to keep tolerating the others. The spark was trivial, but this could have happened at any time. Hadn't they been sizing one another up from the beginning?

Rem let his arms hang, keeping track of Jaxon's position. Instinct told him it would be dangerous to expose his back.

Ragna had risen before he knew it. The noisy rustling as he stood made his openings plain to see, but were they really openings? Rem knew the lazy bastard could unleash his sword even from that posture.

Audin brought his hands together in front of his crotch, readying his Balaf-style martial arts.

There was no killing intent. Only the thick, heavy air pressing down on everything around them. Pressure that would crush a fainthearted person filled the shabby quarters. The tent serving as their temporary lodging almost seemed to swell taut.

Then the tent flap fluttered open. A stranger stood beyond it, unfamiliar to every one of them. He had black hair and blue eyes, with looks that caught the eye even at a glance.

He entered and looked from side to side. Anyone with sense would turn around and leave. Anyone fainthearted would pass out.

"Yes. This is, um... Yes, these are the squad's quarters, but you should probably come back later."

Big-eyes spoke from behind the new squad leader. He was quick on the uptake. The atmosphere was more murderous than ever. Some things were best avoided.

Krais tugged the back of the new squad leader's shirt, trying to keep him out of trouble. But the man wouldn't budge. No, he took a step forward and spoke.

"I'm Encrid, your squad leader. Don't fight."

Rem was watching for an opening. His dangling arms were ready to draw and swing his axes at any moment. Audin, too, was poised to counter any incoming attack. Ragna meant to cut down all three in a single sweep, while Jaxon was ready to draw the daggers expertly concealed in his sleeves.

The threat was unmistakable: anyone who interfered would die. Yet an unfamiliar face slipped right into their midst.

"Enough."

It was a truly fearless act. Encrid stepped between them. He was lucky.

Rem stopped short of drawing his axe, his hand twitching. One twitch more, and his axe would already have split whatever stood before him straight down the middle. Audin's shoulder trembled, and Ragna's hand had closed around his sword grip.

Only Jaxon appeared unchanged, but the ends of his dagger hilts were already touching both his palms.

"... Did they send us some crazy bastard?"

Ragna muttered.

"Are you insane?"

How oblivious did someone have to be to step into this? No. He wasn't oblivious. He had understood and stepped in anyway. Rem knew it the moment he looked into the man's eyes.

Then he was throwing his life away? No, not that. He had felt the pressure without understanding exactly what was happening. Even so, he had stepped between them? What the hell were this man's nerves made of?

Later, when the man kept closing his eyes whenever Rem swung an axe, he would wonder what the hell was wrong with him. But that was his first impression.

"As long as you're not fighting. I'm Encrid."

The new squad leader didn't offer a handshake. He only gave his name. He didn't ask for theirs either. His manner said they should each simply do their own jobs. Even by Rem's standards, he was quite—no, extraordinarily—fucking mad.

"Looks like we've got an interesting one."

Rem muttered. The bastard was mad enough to pique his interest. Back then, none of them thought this Encrid fellow would last a week.

* * *

Encrid remembered his first day with the troublemakers. Why had he stepped in? Ah, because he had thought a squad leader ought to do his job. At the very least, stopping his men from fighting was his duty.

The murderous atmosphere brought that first day back. The pressure had weighed on his shoulders then, too. It had felt as though it would tear his heart apart. He might have closed his eyes at a blade flying toward him, but he had been confident he could endure sustained pressure and pain. That was why he had stepped between them.

'I really was an idiot.'

Rem stood with his arms hanging loose, axes at his waist. He was ready.

To Rem's left, Ragna held his sword grip lightly in both hands. Opposite them, Audin stood smiling like a statue frozen in place, his fists together just before his stomach. All of them were ready.

Step into that halfheartedly, and he would die. Without question. The pressure became a presence that stabbed at his heart. Though none of them was doing it consciously, it produced an effect much like intimidation.

He could see now what he hadn't seen before. Did that change anything? No. He didn't care whether they pressed down on him or not.

Encrid was itching to show them what he had learned and understood, right this instant. Hadn't he spent all this time waiting for his body to heal so he could show them his sword, his swordsmanship, everything he had learned and practiced? Whether they fought one another was none of his concern.

He drew his sword. Not the dwarf's gladius, but a longsword with a silver blade.

SHIIING.

He drew it slowly and took it in both hands. Ragna had given him this sword. Hadn't he said he took it after killing the proto knight he fought? Aya of the Brown Turd? A proto knight with an unusual name.

Its blade was supremely sharp, as fine as the sword that had broken. Well, a proto knight of the Ruling Prince's Knight Order had wielded it personally. The grip was wrapped in demonic beast hide, making it feel snug in his hands.

Gripping the sword, Encrid focused and walked into their midst without hesitation. Teresa and Dunbachel frowned as they watched.

'Between them?'

Esther had stepped out for a while, and Krais was at the market. So there was no one here likely to die from a stray blade.

Before, he had stepped in knowing nothing. Now he knowingly received all three men's presence, entirely alone. He faced Ragna, with Audin to his right and Rem to his left. And in that position...

"Not bad."

Encrid even spoke. Then he pivoted on his left foot and unleashed his sword.

He began with Will of the Instant. As his waist turned, the sword, now held only in his right hand, flew like a single point. Smoother and more fluid than before.

WHIZZ!

By the end of that brief whistle through the air, the blade was already aimed between Rem's eyes.

"Fuck!"

Rem's axe moved. It, too, became a streak of light. Light met light.

CLANG!

Steel met steel, and the harmony began. Yes, this was only the beginning. The tension-laden air exploded.

Encrid opened by showing Rem the Instant, then hurled himself to the right. He seemed to be offering an opening in his reach, only to stop abruptly. Crossed Steps of the Valen Mercenary Sword Technique.

He feigned an approach, stopped, and brought his sword straight down. Crushing Sword. A sword of pressure founded on the Will of intimidation. As it bore down, Audin shouted.

"Father!"

Even his battle cry was unmistakably Audin.

HUM.

The air trembled. Crushing Sword was pushed back. But that wasn't the end.

While everyone else reacted, Ragna held his balance. Encrid turned away from Audin and rushed him. He had bought time with Crushing Sword and pulled away.

"Going to just stand there and watch?"

He threw out the words and worked his blade. Nameless's Righteous Sword Technique. Its trajectory was meant to draw Ragna into his design, forcing his opponent into a particular movement.

He deliberately thrust at his opponent's right shoulder, leaving his intent obvious to induce a dodge. He meant to begin with a sideways cut as Ragna evaded, but Ragna knocked his sword away. He prevented the Righteous Sword Technique from even starting.

Encrid sensed a discordant note in that movement. He wasn't fighting properly. More precisely, he was restricting his own strength. Even so, he blocked with ease.

CLANG!

"Read me?"

"You were obvious."

No, he hadn't been obvious. Ragna had simply changed. His sword now opened a path, allowing him to sever his opponent's intent from the very outset.

"Fucking hell."

Encrid spoke with a grin and met Ragna's oncoming sword. Snake Sword. He deflected it in a flowing motion and thrust to the side once more.

Will of the Instant again. Aimed at Rem. He dragged Rem, who had blocked and stepped back, into the fray once more, then moved toward Audin, who was watching.

It was the footwork Audin had taught him. Snake Step. While trapped in the today called strategy, he had reinterpreted it in his own way and learned it anew. His body seemed to slide forward without his feet ever leaving the ground. Fast.

He struck straight out with his sword. Audin answered Crushing Sword once again.

"Lord!"

CRACK!

It broke again. What a set of lungs.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

Rem shouted. He had every reason to. Why wouldn't he? Encrid was trying to take on all three of them. In other words, he had charged in demanding a fight of one against three.

"Have you lost your mind?"

Ragna tilted his head, too.

"It seems your skull is in need of prayer, brother."

Audin quickly understood his intent. I want to fight all of you! Encrid had said it with his whole body.

Encrid grinned. Ah, this was so much fun. How could it not be? Everything he had practiced, learned, and understood—he was showing it to them, one thing at a time. Showing them again and again, telling them over and over. What do you think of my sword? He was having so much fun he could die. Three opponents or four, it didn't matter.

"I can't take any more."

Teresa, who had been watching from the corner, rose as well.

"Right. This is driving me mad. I've been so excited I could pass out."

As Dunbachel snorted, fur sprouted across her face, and she soon became a white-furred white lion.

Everyone tangled together. The barracks splintered and shattered around them.

CRASH!

Eventually, part of a wall broke apart, and the door was smashed to pieces.

Returning late, Krais found a crowd encircling his barracks, watching.

"What's going on?"

"They seem to be trying to kill each other."

Graham looked dumbfounded as he spoke. Even the lord could only watch, unable to intervene. That was how fierce their presence was.

"Those lunatics."

Krais could only stare in disbelief. They were doing this the moment they healed? No wonder everyone kept calling them lunatics. But there was no stopping them. This was who they had always been.

The fight ended in the evening. Around sunset, the soldiers emerged with steam rising from their bodies. Every one of them was bleeding freely from somewhere.

The half-demolished barracks looked like a ruin. Krais couldn't even imagine how they had split the ceiling.

"You're back? We'll have to sleep somewhere else tonight."

Hearing Encrid say that from among them, Krais could do nothing but laugh.