Chapter 65 - Anyone Coming Over?

'He predicted the enemy's movements.'

Jaxon saw that as the benefit of his sense for the blade. Watching Encrid make full use of the skill he had taught him sent a ticklish feeling through his chest.

It was pride.

But Jaxon did not face his feelings. He was too unfamiliar with them to know how to examine them. 'It's hardly anything remarkable.'

Someone whose death would bother him if it happened before his eyes. That was all. Who was that man to him, that he should be so on edge?

Nobody. That was what he told himself. This paltry game of soldiers didn't matter. His own goal was clear.

Yet the displeasure remained. That was why Jaxon stared hard at the so-called guild leader from behind Encrid.

'I don't like his face.'

He had found a suitable excuse. It certainly wasn't because of his squad leader. He simply didn't like that bastard's face.

So if the man attacked, he would kill him. Here, he would carry out his mission faithfully. Rem had seen Encrid wield the heart of the beast, making boldness his weapon. Charging inside the reach of an enemy thrusting a spear at him!

A few months ago, he could never have imagined his squad leader doing that. At some point, the man's skill had begun improving rapidly, and Rem's own teaching lay at the heart of it. 'Of course.'

That pleased him. Yet some assassin had dared target Encrid.

'Might as well kill them all.'

Rem wanted to grind every last one of them to pieces. Ragna saw traces of himself in Encrid's swordsmanship anew.

'Where did he learn that?'

It was excellent. The way he shifted his balance, moved his feet, thrust his sword. All of it.

Ragna had helped him with his swordsmanship now and then, but reaching that level of mastery would require grueling training. 'How strange.'

A man he had judged untalented suddenly displayed remarkable skill one day. Ragna had liked Encrid even before that. His tireless progress had been a welcome spur to Ragna himself.

And an assassin, a gang of criminals, had targeted a man like that?

'Killing them all would be easier.'

Forgetting his usual laziness, Ragna resolved to slaughter the entire criminal guild. Still, the squad leader was in charge here. He intended to follow his wishes. Audin ran his eyes over Encrid's body, tapping his own thigh with his fingers.

'A well-trained body.'

But it had not been developed systematically. The temple's monks built their bodies before learning techniques. They had a secret method of physical conditioning, which Audin had refined time and again into a method of his own. 'Build his body, and he'll improve.'

The squad leader knew how to persevere. A thought arose once more in a corner of Audin's mind.

Why did God deny talent to someone who worked so hard?

'A mere human cannot know God's intentions.'

Those words were like a dagger buried in his own chest. Whenever they came to mind, an aching pain spread from his heart through his entire body. Yet here before him stood a man striving to leap over the wall of talent through effort. A man who trusted wholly in himself, without a thought for God's intentions.

'My Lord.'

Audin prayed silently.

'Watch over him. Let this man who dreams of shining not die in vain to a blind blade.' His prayer was heartfelt, and he too deeply resented that someone had targeted Encrid. It would be far too tragic for such a man to die from a dagger in the back.

Audin, however, had no intention of killing anyone.

'Breaking both their legs will do. And tearing an arm off their leader.'

He could simply take something other than their lives.

* * *

A single exchange.

Encrid had delivered quite a shock. Yet no one would cross the line.

'So that wasn't enough.'

How did one overwhelm an opponent through force? By delivering one shock after another.

Encrid recognized his own position. He didn't have to step forward himself. "Rem."

"Yes?"

"Kill just three." Avoiding the snow might have been their excuse, but this was still an operation, a mission, and Encrid was the squad leader.

Rem stepped forward without argument, before the shock Encrid had delivered could fade. Spinning two hatchets in his hands, he ran. He was so fast he seemed to vanish. The vanished Rem appeared before a vicious-looking man holding a nail-studded club.

It was a sight Encrid had seen countless times. Rem's arm bent like a whip. The axe blade at its tip flashed. WHOOSH! THUNK!

WHOOSH! CRACK!

CRUNCH! The first axe stroke severed the vicious-looking man's neck. The second split the head of the man to his right.

The last blow went left again. Twisting at the waist, Rem smashed the end of an axe handle into the neck of a man with fierce eyes.

One neck severed, one head split, and the last neck broken. Having killed them, Rem swept his hatchet diagonally toward the ground to shake off the blood. Droplets pattered across the earth.

Then he turned his back on the guild members and strode back.

"Three dead." Encrid thought two shocks had given them ample opportunity.

"Anyone coming over?"

The same offer, for the third time. If they refused now, there was nothing more he could do. He couldn't show mercy to opponents charging at him with intent to kill.

This was an age of killing and being killed. Anyone seeking to kill another should know they might die themselves. "... You're Border Guard?"

The refined-looking guild leader asked.

"No."

Encrid merely led a modest squad. Its members just happened to be unusual individuals.

"Infantry battalion, Cyprus Division, stationed in Border Guard."

Holding his sword loosely, he named his unit. There was no reason to conceal it. A few of the men who had been hesitating and watching began to lower their weapons. The guild leader glared fiercely.

"Go on, struggle to save yourselves. See if I let you."

He was addressing his own men.

Encrid recalled what Krais had said. Gilfin ruled his subordinates through fear, hadn't he? If displeased, he broke their limbs and cut out their tongues. "Don't let them get to you! Those bastards are human too. Stab them and they fucking die. Can't you see they're not even properly armored? Kill them! No man can withstand a mob!"

Quoting sayings, was he? Quite fancy for the likes of him.

Privately, Encrid thought he had a point. Overwhelming an opponent through numbers was generally the right approach. Trained soldiers were most effective when fighting as a group. In a small skirmish, even some random thug could kill a soldier. How could anyone survive a blade driven into an opening?

With only a few fighters on either side, thugs might even have the advantage.

Naturally, that didn't apply to knights or those who had surpassed human limits.

Nor did it apply here. "Don't."

Encrid warned them.

The troublemaker squad fought however they pleased, outside the bounds of strategy and tactics to begin with. They were the sort to gleefully fight hordes on the battlefield and return unscathed.

For a mere thirty armed men, not even soldiers, to attack people like that was suicide. "Let them. Some won't shed a tear until they see the coffin."

"Brother, I believe the time has come for divine punishment."

"Step back and watch."

For some reason, even Audin and Ragna were eager. Jaxon stepped forward without a word. He drew his sword with a ring and took one long stride. An impatient thief sprang out from the other side, swinging the broad-bladed scimitar in his hand. It whooshed down toward Jaxon's head.

Jaxon raised his sword parallel to the scimitar's blade, caught it against his own, and let it slide past before slashing downward. RIP! His sword sliced across the man's belly. It hadn't seemed to carry much force, but apparently it was enough to cut open the skin and expose his guts.

"Ghurk."

Spilling pink intestines, the man fell to his knees and collapsed.

That was the beginning. "Only kill those who attack," Encrid said.

At that, Rem stayed where he was and simply swung his axes. He was a grinder all the same.

A man swinging a flail backed away when his weapon was cut in half, but the axe had already split his head. Retreating, he spilled blood and brains before toppling backward. Ragna held a single arming sword and swung it mechanically from high to low. There seemed to be no wondrous technique involved, yet every downward stroke added another corpse.

Crowns split. Shoulders were severed. Audin took a club in each hand and batted away incoming blades.

CLANG-CLANG-CLANG-CLANG!

His side was by far the noisiest as a result. Knocking weapons aside, Audin closed the distance. His feet were remarkably fast, comparable to Rem's. Once close, he swung his clubs with well-placed blows to break his enemies' legs.

CRACK! CRUNCH!

"Aaaaaaagh!" The screams of men with broken legs rang through the clearing. Loud enough to make one wonder whether patrolling guards would come running.

Fortunately, no one came.

Krais thought that was only natural. 'Half an hour from the underground hideout.'

The base they had found at the end of the alley had been near the outskirts to begin with. This estate was probably in an upscale district where wealthy trading companies had invested in property within the city.

There weren't usually many people around. And their opponents were the criminal organization known as the Gilfin Guild. They would have paid off the higher-ups. 'They must have cleared everyone out of the area.'

They would have thought it easier to handle matters with no one around than with patrols wandering through.

Krais was neither startled nor intimidated by their numbers. He was a member of the troublemaker squad too. He had a rough idea of what his fellow squad members could do. Even Encrid, now a high-grade soldier, struggled against them. 'Every one of them is at least as good as the Border Guard.'

That settled it. These men couldn't possibly be a match.

Krais's mind worked busily, planning what came next. He had even leaked information deliberately for this.

'I'll deal with that fellow later.' Both the information leak and the current situation were, to some degree, part of Krais's plan from the start.

Had any of the others noticed?

The squad leader might. He looked like a steadfast fool, but he knew how to use his head. Rem might figure it out too, given a clue, but he didn't really understand how a city worked.

'He probably won't.' Ragna and Audin went without saying. As long as what he wanted was clear, Jaxon wouldn't concern himself with anything else.

So everything was set.

Meanwhile, corpses continued to pile up, and frenzied screams rang out from Audin's side. "Aaaaaagh!"

Audin didn't stop at breaking one leg. He made certain to return and break the other. Nor did he neglect his sermon.

"I will not ask you to become saints. But please refrain from living in ways that harm your neighbors."

They wouldn't have understood half of that even normally. With him breaking their legs as he spoke, not one of them took it in.

Still, Audin remained consistent. Encrid's eyes were busy.

At first, Jaxon's restrained movements captivated him.

'Righteous Sword Technique.'

That was the foundation. Counterattacks using the opponent's sword, guiding the enemy along a set sword path to make them move as intended. Swift Sword was mixed in as well.

A sword that made offense and defense one. That was the beauty of Righteous Sword. Beyond the forms themselves, his judgment in wielding the sword was extraordinary. He chose the surest means of killing his opponent. His was a sword for killing.

There was much to learn. Then Rem caught his eye. He was merely striking enemies as they approached, but his axes traced patterns Encrid would never have imagined.

'How can he do that?'

It was like swordsmanship that belonged to none of the categories of The Oniak Sword Technique.

Naturally. Rem's axe work was based entirely on instinct. If it had to be classified, it would be Unorthodox Sword. Though, since he wielded axes, Unorthodox Axe Style would be more accurate.

Encrid learned from this too. The same went for Ragna's Heavy Sword Technique. He was showing the ultimate expression of the basic swordsmanship Encrid had learned.

Any clumsy block was smashed straight through, the blow reaching its target. Those strikes split crowns and severed shoulders. And what of Audin's physical techniques?

Swordsmanship was fundamentally based on bodily technique. Without using fists and feet, it could hardly be called proper swordsmanship. Learning close combat was essential.

In that sense, Audin's fighting offered the most to learn. He watched the process of breaking legs with two short clubs. Movements he would once have seen without understanding now lodged in his mind.

Oblivious to his surroundings, Encrid busied himself watching the four men and stealing their techniques. Putting them into practice himself was another matter, but one thing was certain: there was plenty to learn. The fight was short. It could hardly have lasted long. More and more men lost the will to fight.

Amid it all, Jaxon cut a dogged path forward, unlike his usual self. He was heading for the guild leader with the cane. Closing the distance, he abruptly swung his sword in a high horizontal cut aimed at the top of the man's head.

The guild leader pulled up on the cane's handle. It wasn't an ordinary cane, but a sword stick—a cane with a blade concealed inside.

The long blade came free with a ring and blocked Jaxon's sword. Steel clashed, scattering sparks between them. The two men guarding the guild leader's back moved to join in.

"Don't."

"Let them fight."

Rem and Ragna had approached unnoticed.

The two bodyguards looked at each other. Should they attack? Their eyes turned to the path Rem and Ragna had taken.

A path of blood. Nothing but rows of corpses. The only survivors were those who had wet themselves in terror or held back instead of attacking.

The bodyguards quietly lowered their weapons. Both held daggers. They sheathed them altogether, then silently knelt.

A posture of surrender and submission. "You bastards!"

The guild leader roared at the sight of his bodyguards' actions.

But what else were they to do? Nothing mattered more than their own lives. The only ones to pity were those who had been swept up in the mood and attacked. Jaxon remained expressionless. His brown eyes, ringed with red, tracked the guild leader.

"I surrender!"

The man shouted. Jaxon paid him no heed.

"I said I surrender! Why go this far? If it's money you want, I'll pay!"

His tone was desperate. CLANG-CLANG-CLANG-CLANG-CLANG! While the man ran his mouth, Jaxon's sword suddenly accelerated. It struck the sword stick five times in succession.

Sparks flew into the winter night. Darkness and blazing torches. Corpses and groaning men. Those gripped by terror and those who had bestowed it.

Amid them, Jaxon's voice rang out.

"I don't like your face." 'What the fuck is that supposed to mean?'

That was the guild leader's last thought.

An instant later, Jaxon's sword sliced through his expensive clothes and cut his throat.

SLICE! An eerie sound. The guild leader died with his eyes wide in outrage.

He still had so much to say. Did they know who backed him? And above all, how many Krona had he poured into the pockets of those powerful bastards?

Unfair. So unfair.

Naturally. Those killed by a blade always felt wronged. Jaxon let his bloodstained sword hang at his side. All the fighting around him had ended before he knew it.

Encrid closed his eyes, reviewing each squad member's movements, then opened them. It was time to bring the situation to order. Against the dark night, the biting winter air, and the torches, Encrid stepped forward. As it happened, he stood right in the center.

Within the ring of torches, shadows gathered, and so did every gaze. Once he had everyone's attention, he spoke.

"Anyone coming over?"

That was enough.

Every survivor dropped their weapon.