Chapter 55 - Where Does Persistence End?

It really was nothing out of the ordinary. City patrol was a routine assignment, a rotating duty that could come around three or four times a month.

Besides, where were they? Border Guard. Part of the king's own domain, it was a well-policed city that tolerated very little trouble. Major merchant companies favored it as a place to do business for good reason.

It lay in the far east of Naurilia, a frontier city bordering Aspen and the closest city to the battlefield, but its public order was second to none. With such a large garrison, soldiers could be kept on duty around the clock.

Border Guard had four inns clustered around a well. The crossroads and square where those inns stood formed the city's marketplace.

Built on an elevated basin, the city overlooked gentle downward slopes along its outskirts. Beyond the northern slope flowed the Penn-Hanil River, the water source for most nearby cities.

Farmland lined the river, with farmhouses scattered here and there. The river had flooded that summer, collapsing part of an embankment, and groups of laborers were busily rebuilding it.

Most trouble arose between people. Occasionally, they patrolled farmland or dealt with monsters, but today they were patrolling the market.

"I'm Jack, and this is Bo."

Patrols went out in groups of three, so two soldiers had joined him. Encrid, Jack, and Bo were on their way to the market.

"So that fog was a spell? Hock, ptoo! Those Aspen sons of bitches nearly got me killed, but you saved my skin. Thanks!"

Jack spat phlegm onto the ground as he spoke. Swaggering along with an infantry shortspear, he did not look particularly grateful. Encrid gave a casual nod.

"I nearly died without getting to spend the Krona I'd saved."

Bo offered his thanks as well. He was an especially light-footed soldier. Encrid had once heard from Big-eyes that the man had quite a few talents.

'But haven't I heard those names together somewhere?'

Nothing in particular came to mind. It wasn't important, so he made no effort to remember.

The three walked toward the market in good spirits. Encrid said little, but Jack and Bo belonged to the same squad. As the two chatted, they kept throwing compliments his way.

"A high-grade soldier, huh? You must be damn good. Shit, let's have a bout sometime. I'd like to see what a high-grade soldier can do."

Jack tapped the butt of his spear against the ground as he spoke.

"Sounds good."

Encrid never turned down a spar. Whoever he fought, he believed there was always something to learn.

"I'll hold you to that. Fuck."

Jack seemed incapable of finishing a sentence without a curse.

"Squad Leader Andrew couldn't stop praising you. Said you pulled off that scouting mission, too."

Bo joined in the praise.

"I was lucky."

"And modest, too."

Bo even gave him a thumbs-up. Nobody disliked a compliment, and Encrid was no exception.

The two walked on, grinning and talking incessantly. They reached the edge of the market, passed a few single-story buildings, and stepped inside.

On one side, someone was selling freshly picked wildflowers. Opposite them, another vendor sold tanned hides and the like.

Across the market from the entrance Encrid had used, the distant clang of hammering iron rang out. It came from a smithy. Though the forge stood on the market's outskirts, the faint sound of metal striking metal still reached his ears.

"I'm telling you, I won't make anything if I sell it for that little."

A merchant's voice mingled with a boy calling from the roadside, beckoning customers into his shop.

"Bread baked fresh today!"

RUMBLE.

Carts trundled through the middle of it all. It was chaotic, but markets were always like this. A familiar sight.

"These dried apples are delicious."

As he walked, Encrid met the eyes of a merchant selling an assortment of dried fruit.

"No, thank you."

The merchant immediately turned away. Just an ordinary day.

Once his shift ended, perhaps he could coax Jaxon into sparring. Or it might be fun to have a bout with this Jack fellow as soon as they returned.

The weather had turned sharply colder, and his body kept stiffening. Walking was better than standing still.

"Shall we walk a little farther?"

"Sure, sure."

Jack and Bo drew close on either side. Encrid was wondering whether the cold had brought them so near when a small child in rags approached from ahead and pitched forward.

He caught the child reflexively, then felt a stabbing, searing pain.

He tried to twist away at once, but the cold had stiffened his body and slowed his response. If he had managed even a slight turn before the blow landed, he might have been all right. Instead, the dagger tore mercilessly through his guts.

Immediately after stabbing his abdomen, without so much as a pause for breath, the attacker drove the blade into the area around his heart. Agonizing pain slammed into his brain.

A scream or groan was about to escape him as the blade went in, but someone behind him clamped a thick cloth over his mouth.

The market was so bustling that no one would think much of a single man toppling over. And Jack and Bo were shielding Encrid with their bodies.

"Whoops! That's what happens when you start drinking before sundown."

Jack played it off jovially.

"You can say that again."

Bo played along.

What the hell were these bastards doing? Nothing that was happening made any sense to Encrid.

The child who had stabbed his gut and heart supplied the final piece.

"The Persistent Lovers never forget."

It wasn't a child. Beneath the rags, he saw large ears and eyes that shone like jewels. A peculiar face.

One eye was green, the other brown. Mismatched eyes. The green was so clear and gemlike that the brown looked terribly dull beside it. It was like dirty oil mixed into clear water.

The skin was mottled like a spotted cat's coat, with deep wrinkles around the eyes and mouth. The individual features were pretty, but assembled like this, they were somehow unpleasant.

'A mixed-blood Fairy.'

Encrid recognized what his attacker was. It changed nothing. With his mouth covered, blood poured down onto the ground.

Both his arms were pinned. Those bastards Jack and Bo gave him no opening.

"Farewell."

The mixed-blood Fairy spoke. Judging by his deeply lined face and manner of speaking, he wasn't young, though his build was that of a boy of only twelve or thirteen.

'I really didn't see this coming.'

An assassination. And the Persistent Lovers, no less. Wasn't that the name of an Independent Company from Aspen? Their persistence was infamous, and now they had sent an assassin after the battle was over.

'These bastards are completely insane.'

Considering the Krona and effort required to send even one assassin, doing all this to kill a mere soldier was unquestionably insane. And being on the receiving end made it all the more infuriating.

Encrid strained to throw his head back, and the man holding the cloth over his mouth tightened his grip.

"Let him speak. Looks like he's got something to say."

Was it that peculiar Fairy intuition? The small, old mixed-blood Fairy had somehow read his mind. Soon, the thick cloth constricting his mouth loosened.

"Did Aspen send you? Are Jack and Bo spies?"

Encrid forced down the stabbing pain as he asked.

"Something like that."

"Who's behind me?"

"You're dying, and you still want to know that?"

"I'd hate to die without knowing. I'll be waiting in hell."

"Rotten."

That last word was whispered from behind him.

Rotten? He knew that bastard's name, too. Jack, Bo, Rotten. Weren't they all scouts?

Now that he was dying, his mind raced, dredging up the memory on its own. The reason he had been sent on that scouting mission at the Green Pearl battlefield.

They had said Jack had broken an arm, Bo had broken his nose, and Rotten had been bitten by a snake. Had all these bastards deliberately ducked out of the mission?

"Son of a bitch."

A hollow laugh escaped him.

"Persistent, weren't we?"

With those words, the Fairy slipped aside with picture-perfect grace. He pattered toward the outskirts, weaving this way and that before disappearing into an alley.

Jack and Bo discreetly released his arms and drifted away. Rotten, of course, did the same.

Those few exchanged words had drained every scrap of his strength. He had none left to shout, though he wouldn't have shouted even if he had.

Instead, he tried to look behind him as he fell. The man had called himself Rotten, but he might have been someone else.

But what did Rotten look like again? He couldn't remember his face. The moment he realized looking would be pointless, Encrid let his body go limp.

Blood streamed from his mouth. His guts felt as though someone had stirred them with a firebrand. Pain soaked his body, and blood soaked the ground.

The cold wrapped around him more fiercely than ever. His body shook.

'Bastards. If you're leaving, at least finish me off first.'

Bleeding to death like this was the worst. Better to die in one stroke.

"Aaaah!"

A passing waitress saw the pool of blood and screamed. That was the last of it. Encrid closed his eyes and met his death.

* * *

His eyes snapped open. Morning again.

He bolted upright. Beside him, Rem asked from within his tightly wrapped blanket,

"Nightmare?"

"No. I wanted an energetic start to the morning."

"It's fucking freezing today."

Rem was grumbling first thing in the morning. A large bonfire burned on the barracks' parade ground, and the sentries brought heated stones into the quarters every night, but those alone were nowhere near enough to keep the cold at bay.

If they had Krona to spare, they could have brought in furs or a stove made with magic. But ordinary soldiers didn't have that sort of money.

They didn't even need a magic stove, really. A demonic beast's hide, which supposedly gave off a gentle warmth, would have been perfect. Even that was expensive, though. In short, all of it was a pipe dream.

"Krais, aren't you cold?"

"I am. Very."

Rem asked Krais for no particular reason. Big-eyes was the only person here with more Krona than he needed.

"How about a magic stove?"

"You want us to use something only nobles can afford? Getting spoiled, aren't we? Why not become a noble tomorrow while you're at it?"

"Huh? You want a massage with an axe blade?"

"Resorting to violence at the drop of a hat is a bad habit. Squad Leader!"

Big-eyes ended the conversation with an appeal to Encrid.

"Don't bully him."

Having nipped the bullying in the bud, Encrid turned his gaze toward the religious squad member, who was rising with his muscles on display. His name was Audin Phumrey, a muscular soldier who, for some reason, had ended up in the troublemaker squad.

It was bitterly cold today. Jaxon was away overnight for some reason, and Rem, Big-eyes, and Ragna showed no inclination to leave their beds. Even wrapped tightly in blankets, they were cold.

"Squad Leader, bring us a few stones while you're up."

A few stones heated in the bonfire overnight would at least help.

"Sure."

Despite his answer, Encrid didn't move. Instead, Audin got out of bed and strode over.

"Brother, staying in bed because you're cold will only make your body stiff. Move and generate heat, and you can overcome the cold. Now, follow my lead."

"Fuck off before I chop you into pieces and warm myself with your blood."

"That will not do, Brother. Words like those can offend the listener."

"Offended? Good. That's what I was going for."

"Brother, do you wish to go to heaven?"

They never changed, did they? Normally, Encrid would have broken it up long before this. Instead, he silently watched Audin, then spoke.

"You said there was a training method for preserving body heat, didn't you? Teach me."

Audin turned away from his steady stare at Rem.

"You mean the barehanded training method?"

It wasn't that Audin didn't feel the cold. But he certainly endured it better than the others. He had once mentioned a training method that kept the body from stiffening even in the cold.

Encrid didn't know why it came to mind just now. It seemed useful. He couldn't very well keep jumping up and down to warm himself, so learning a way to prevent his body from stiffening seemed worthwhile.

It was an impulse, but a perfectly natural one. Encrid was a man who thirsted to learn.

"Yes. That."

"I'd be happy to teach you. Do you have the time?"

"For now."

"A day or two should be enough to lay the foundation. It isn't difficult."

Audin smiled, apparently pleased by Encrid's desire to learn.

Seeing Encrid straighten his posture to begin immediately, Rem muttered without budging from his bed.

"Hey, Squad Leader. I asked for stones. I'm cold."

Ah, he'd forgotten. Encrid brought him the stones first.

He had two hours before his shift began. Enough time for breakfast and training. So that was what he did.

The barehanded training method was one painful exercise after another, but it was useful. Then he went on duty again.

"How'd I end up on duty with you two?"

Someone had clearly pulled strings.

"Ah, fuck, it's an honor to patrol with the Spellbreaker."

Jack answered, and Encrid nodded.

Later, when they entered the market, he was ready. He fixed his glare on the little Fairy before the assassin could even approach.

Jack and Bo tried to seize his arms, and Encrid shot his fists out to either side.

THWACK! TAP!

Jack took a blow to the jaw, but Bo dodged reflexively. Bo was quick. With a deft step, he slipped to the side, reaching for his waist as he moved. A shortsword hung there.

The Fairy was still far off. He would deal with Bo first, then. Encrid gripped his longsword's hilt.

Draw and swing. He focused, making a weapon of his boldness and honing the blade of his senses.

At that very moment—

WHIIIISH!

He heard an odd sound. He tried to dodge, but whatever was flying toward him was faster.

THUNK!

Encrid's breath caught. Looking down, he saw the end of a blade protruding from the area around his heart.

It was a throwing blade with no handle or decoration whatsoever, nothing but a blade sharpened along both sides. Even among throwing knives, this kind was exceptionally difficult to use.

"The Persistent Lovers never forget their prey."

The Fairy had already drawn close. He whispered the words and stepped aside.

'But I was ready.'

He hadn't expected a thrown weapon. Even if he had, the throw had been so skillful that stopping it would have been difficult.

Encrid closed his eyes, thinking he needed a more reliable countermeasure. And his third today began.