Chapter 340 - Running and Laughing

Running and Laughing

This time, their opponents were not in a Demonic Realm, but were monsters active in the foothills of the Penn-Hanil Mountains.

Including these monsters, weren't they called Border Guard's Three Great Calamities? The royal palace—and even Border Guard itself—considered them a serious problem, but not a calamity. That was a name the villagers and traveling merchants in the area had quietly given them. To those people, they were indeed a calamity.

Their destination was a two-day walk away, including rest stops.

"Shall we run?"

Encrid asked, though the answer was already decided. Why waste time? If it took two days to walk, they could simply run without stopping. Then it would take half a day.

"Let's."

Rem nodded first, and the others followed suit. Encrid began to run—not at full speed, but at a moderate pace. Everyone followed him.

Once again, Sinar marveled at how readily the man acted.

'Running all the way there.'

Ordinarily, no one would even consider it. They possessed both the stamina and the sheer recklessness to turn a two-day journey into half a day, and they did exactly that.

There was a reason they made the soldiers under them run such absurd distances during training. Rapid marching was a priority for any army. Naturally, those giving the orders had to be better runners themselves. Who would follow someone who couldn't prove their own ability?

They kept running and soon reached the foothills northeast of Border Guard, within sight of Green Pearl.

The masters of the third lesser Demonic Realm were five trolls. They roamed the area, using the Penn-Hanil Mountains as their base. It wasn't really a Demonic Realm; the problem was that the five wandered about using the vast mountains as a hiding place. For all the talk of a lesser Demonic Realm, it was simply five monsters swaggering around as though the whole region belonged to them.

They watched trading caravans and killed and plundered any that looked even slightly vulnerable. At night, they also attacked homes built near the city. Last year alone, three groups of traveling merchants had been killed.

The creatures had an uncanny knack for spotting even a slight shortage of guards. Yet whenever a well-prepared force pursued them, they vanished like smoke. These monsters were born hunters.

Witnesses said they carried sturdy wooden clubs and concealed themselves with foliage. In other words, they were intelligent monsters that knew how to hunt. Those were the nastiest kind to deal with. Just finding them was a task in itself.

Encrid recalled what Krais had said about dealing with the five troll brothers.

["We'll set out bait to lure them out, or something along those lines."]

Of course, Krais had another plan, but...

'Too much fuss,' Encrid thought.

"Can you track them?"

So he chose an easier method. He directed the question at Dunbachel.

"Not by scent. There are foul smells mixed in."

Beastmen were natural trackers. Their sense of smell surpassed even a Fairy's keen senses. But Dunbachel shook her head.

The five troll bastards relieved themselves all over the mountains to obscure the scent of their bodily secretions, and rubbed sap and the like onto their skin to mingle the odors.

"I could separate the scents if I kept tracking them, though."

"How long would that take?"

"Who knows? A month?"

She wasn't even certain. She didn't know how long it would take, which meant it might take more than a month.

"I'll track them."

Rem stepped forward, picking his ear as he gave the edge of the mountains a cursory glance.

Encrid didn't know Rem's past. He knew a little, but not the details. What he did know was that when Rem said he would do something, it meant he could do it properly.

Encrid had done some pathfinding himself, and had worked as a bounty hunter. But having experience didn't mean he was exceptionally skilled compared with others. He knew only the basics.

The tracking skills he had learned from a hunter named Yenrid back at Green Pearl would be more useful. Even those, however, wouldn't let him instantly find five trolls that had evaded capture this long.

These five monsters were far from ordinary. Just as humans weren't all alike, neither were monsters. Not all Ghouls were the same. The same went for the insects called bells. Why would human-faced hounds be any different? Individuals varied. And these five trolls seemed particularly adept at hiding and hunting.

"I'll track them down and drive them to you. You kill them."

He made it sound easy and simple. It was neither.

"I'll help."

Sinar readily volunteered as well. Fairies were specially adapted to the environments where they were born and raised. Forests and mountains were 'easy' terrain for her.

Had she met that bastard of a knight in a forest, for instance, he wouldn't have beaten her so easily. She still couldn't have knocked him down or overpowered him, but she was confident she wouldn't have gone down without a fight.

You never knew how a fight would turn out until blades crossed. Watching Encrid had taught Sinar that truth as well. He never gave up, even when the outcome was plain. Thinking back now, perhaps she had liked that about him so much that she had asked to spar with him right from the start.

"No need."

Rem shook his head. Their methods differed, so they would need time to learn to work together. A waste of time.

Sinar nodded. He said he could manage alone. Extraordinary as the trolls might be, this group was a collection of people who had gone beyond extraordinary.

"How long?"

Encrid was beginning to smell musty. Spring had arrived, but mornings and nights were still cold. He washed his face, hands, and feet, but hadn't washed his body. He felt grimy. That was another reason he wanted to finish as quickly as possible and head back.

He could endure the smell and other discomforts, but not washing made one vulnerable to illness. Bathing mattered. The others probably felt the same.

Ah, except Dunbachel. Despite being a Beastman with a keen nose, she hated bathing. Encrid found it absurd that those two traits could coexist, but how could he make her comply when she hated it? There was nothing for it but to overpower her and make her wash.

Everyone else generally agreed with Encrid on the matter.

"Light a fire and relax. Let's finish before dawn."

With that, Rem headed toward the mountains. He seemed to be strolling slowly, but then he slipped out of sight.

"Let's roast some jerky," Encrid said, watching him disappear.

Rest time had to be put to proper use, too.

"Let us do so."

Audin and the others settled in. Sinar dug a hole beneath a large tree and filled it with tinder such as dry leaves. They had collected dry twigs in their pockets whenever they spotted them along the way, so there was no need to gather more.

Diligence and preparedness made traveling comfortable. In that respect, they were all seasoned travelers. Even after the squad that had come to meet them left, none of them had found camping inconvenient. Everyone here had traveled the continent at least once.

Each did their part. Audin brought over long branches and stripped off the bark by running his palm along them. It was a marvel every time Encrid saw it. That made skewers cleaner than washing them with water would have.

Meanwhile, Dunbachel twitched her nose and entered the forest at the edge of the mountains, returning with several squirrels.

Encrid took over from there. He pulled a small pot from his pack. While Dunbachel skinned and bled the squirrels, Sinar lit the fire. The pit she had dug made it a smokeless campfire. She was a capable Fairy herself.

"Fire is a wondrous thing," she remarked as she worked.

Encrid wondered what that was supposed to mean, coming from someone who always warned them to be careful around braziers.

He placed the drained squirrels in the pot, took out a clean cloth, and crushed them whole. Once he had mashed even the brains and entrails, he sprinkled in a little salt and pepper and formed the mixture into meatballs.

Then he uncapped his waterskin, poured a shallow layer of water into the pot, and set it over the fire to boil. He added the meatballs to the boiling water, along with several torn strips of seasoned jerky. The jerky itself served as seasoning.

As the broth simmered and developed, a savory aroma spread. He had learned the recipe from Rem. Hadn't he said the western peoples could eat an animal from head to toe?

"Lovely."

Audin smiled more broadly than usual.

No matter how far one's fighting prowess surpassed human limits, one still needed to eat well. That was Encrid's view. Surely even knights got hungry. Will—willpower—was wondrous, but it wouldn't cure hunger. The more muscle he put on through training, the hungrier he became.

"Let's eat."

The well-cooked squirrel meatballs and the broth, flavored with jerky and seasoning, were excellent. One bite filled his mouth with rich flavor. There was no gaminess, only savory goodness.

The tender meatballs and broth warmed his insides, while the softened jerky provided a satisfying chew. They had made a decent stew on the spot.

"That really hits the spot," Dunbachel said.

Everyone agreed. Encrid, too, drank the broth and chewed the meatballs. Amid the rich, savory meatballs, the jerky made its own distinct flavor known. Not bad at all.

He had no particular gift for cooking, but he had eaten a great deal of good food. Naturally, his skill at making it had improved as well.

Once everyone had eaten their fill, they passed the time keeping warm by the fire.

Thinking over what he had learned from each of them, Encrid repeatedly gripped his sword and loosened his hand. He was considering the weapon technique Audin had just taught him, which used abruptly checked strikes.

'The key is grip strength.'

Hold loosely, then tighten at the instant of impact. Transferring force mattered more than speed. Thinking it over, the technique was difficult to categorize within The Oniak Sword Technique. Not everything in the world could be described as straight, heavy, deceptive, swift, or flowing.

The swordsmanship once compiled by the genius Leonesis Oniak had since branched off in different directions. Some practitioners had reorganized swordsmanship in their own ways. This technique seemed to be one such offshoot.

'Concentrate the force of the blow on a single point.'

Was that all? Then how did he concentrate the force? What was the force of a blow, exactly? Pondering it raised questions. Rather than ask for answers, Encrid immersed himself in studying it alone.

It was difficult, but he felt close to grasping at least a rough idea. Things were different now. He had reached a level where he could create sword techniques from his own experience. He had even grasped fragments of Will. Encrid was now beyond any discussion of his former talent.

That didn't mean he understood every principle. He had faced a knight's blade, yet hadn't perceived everything it carried. Was that a problem? No. It wasn't.

'I don't need to understand everything.'

He only needed to grasp a part and build on it as he advanced. This was a road he had walked even when he had nothing. Now it was like walking a well-paved road with signposts.

Encrid swung his sword through empty air again and again, trying to understand the technique. Grip strength wasn't all that mattered. He had to make his muscles explode into action in an instant.

How? Relax every muscle in his body, then tighten them. How did he transfer that to the weapon in his hand? By tensing his muscles and channeling it into the motion of tightening his loose grip.

'You can't learn this without the Isolation Technique.'

That was his conclusion. Which meant he could learn it. He already had a 'body' forged through the Isolation Technique.

"Remarkable," murmured Audin, who had been watching.

Encrid looked up and met his eyes. The bearlike soldier who always greeted him with a smile now had his lips pressed into a straight line. He was genuinely astonished.

The technique he had taught Encrid was one of his religious order's weapon arts. Techniques from various sects often found their way into the Order of War, and he had restored and learned one of them.

It was called 'Gather and Burst.'

He had refined an old technique and believed its principles would be quite difficult to grasp. Yet from what he could see, Encrid seemed to have more or less worked them out.

"Can you do it?" Audin asked.

"I need to practice it repeatedly," Encrid replied.

Understanding something and immediately putting it into practice were different matters. Even so, the understanding alone was astonishing. Audin had thought nothing could surprise him anymore, but this truly did.

Hadn't he watched Encrid learn weapon skills from Rem? His talent was unbalanced. Utterly unreasonable. A strange contradiction. He looked hopeless as he learned and practiced, then surpassed an entire stage at the most inexplicable moment. There was no way to explain that process in words. It quite literally made no sense.

Was his talent exceptional? No, that wasn't the word for it. It was peculiar, unique. Almost a mystery.

But this time was different. He struggled, dug, and picked it apart to learn. Audin could see the process. Encrid held on to the principles he grasped and never stopped thinking. It was the power to persist.

He had probably kept Gather and Burst in his mind ever since Audin demonstrated it. He had asked about all sorts of things and said he was learning them, but his main focus had been Audin's Burst technique.

Learning it was remarkable. Giving priority to Audin's technique was discerning, wise, and commendable.

"Ho ho ho."

Audin couldn't help laughing.

"I've still got a long way to go," Encrid replied.

The sun was sinking low enough that he wondered whether they should spend another night here. No sooner had he answered than a faint, bellowing roar reached them from far away. A troll's cry.

Sinar, who had been poking the campfire with a twig, scattered it and murmured, "Careful with fire."

What was it with this Fairy?

Encrid began to rise, but someone rushed out like the wind ahead of him.

"I'll go on ahead, brother."

The voice was brighter and more cheerful than ever. Hm? Before Encrid could say anything...

"Ha ha ha!"

Audin burst out laughing. For some reason, he was thoroughly delighted.

"What the hell, you lunatic?"

Rem reacted from the opposite side. He had already drawn close enough for his voice to carry. Behind him, the trolls came into fleeting view.

Two carried clubs, and the other three held spears in reverse grips. Rem was luring them on, almost exposing his back but never quite giving them a chance. They seemed ready to throw the moment they saw an opening.

Bewildered by Audin charging toward him with laughter spilling out, Rem stopped. At the sight, two trolls hurled their spears. Launched with the spring of their entire bodies, the spearheads sliced through the air.

At that very instant, a shrill whistle rang out.

SHWEEE!