Chapter 84 - Once He Resolved to Save Lives, He Saw an Opening

'Heat.'

An explosion. He went over those final moments again and again. It had happened utterly without warning. When the half-blood Fairy had assassinated him before, they had at least exchanged words just before he died. This time, there had been nothing of the sort. Only searing pain, the agony of a burning death. Being stabbed with a sword or spear often felt like being impaled on a red-hot iron skewer. This time, he had actually burned to death. 'A trap? Given the explosion, it must be a magical trap.' "What's got you thinking so hard?"

"Taking a commission."

He had eaten breakfast, answered Rem, and returned to the place where he picked up commissions. "Please. I'm begging you. Take this one."

As expected, the sewing Squad Leader was asking for a favor. Did this bastard know what was down there when he sent him? But the hollows beneath his eyes showed no hint that he meant to play a trick on anyone. He looked like nothing more than an exhausted soldier. "Been busy lately?"

"Fewer people causing trouble at night, but there've been more monsters and demonic beasts outside lately, so a lot of our troops are being sent to deal with them."

He looked ready to cry. His words rang true. Even if the man was deceiving him, he could simply refuse the commission. Even if he accepted, the same thing wouldn't happen as long as he stayed out of the cobbler's shop. In short, he could ignore it. 'This wall seems easy enough to avoid.'

With that thought, Encrid asked, "What if I don't go?"

"It'll have to wait."

Some commissions were mandatory for the unit's soldiers, but others weren't. This was one they could afford to ignore. "Right, you don't have to go. But that cobbler isn't the sort to talk nonsense. I'd go myself, but the Platoon Commander keeps giving me looks. I can't get away."

That seemed sincere too. When Encrid took too long to answer, lost in thought, the sewing Squad Leader spoke again. "Look, you remember me, right? Back then, with that bundle of leather? Huh?"

"I remember."

Encrid had wondered whether the man had spent his days glued to a bottle since returning to the city. Instead, he was working hard here. "I'm worried about him. Please, go take a look. I've known him since I was a kid."

"All right."

He would go for now. At least he could find out what had happened. An ordinary trap would have sent poisoned needles or something similar flying, not unleashed an explosion of fire. There hadn't been the slightest sound or warning of a trap activating. Which meant magic.

'If it's magic...'

There was nothing he could do. Thinking wouldn't produce an answer. Walking with those thoughts, he reached the cobbler's shop a little later than before. No one answered his knock. "Border Guard standing army. Open up, please."

Only after he knocked harder and called out did the door open. Instead of the cobbler, a young woman stood behind it, with long, braided brown hair and cheeks covered in freckles. "The standing army?" she asked, her eyes wide as a deer's.

"About the commission."

He glanced inside as he answered. There was no sign of the cobbler there either. Just a gaping hole. "Um, well, Father said there was something under the shop, and he went down there."

Damn it, Encrid muttered inwardly.

"Excuse me."

He all but shoved the cobbler's startled daughter aside and went in. Loose earth crumbled and trickled into the hole. 'Impatient bastard.'

The cobbler had grown tired of waiting for the standing army and gone in first. Perhaps he had assumed no one would come at all. Normally, he would have expected soldiers to be reluctant to respond to something like this. "It's dangerous, isn't it? I told him not to go in."

The freckled woman looked close to tears. Then she clenched her teeth.

"I'll have to go bring him back."

"I'll go. Wait here."

"No. I'm going too." She didn't look inclined to listen to any objections. More importantly, he had to hurry and stop that explosion. Rather than try to persuade her, he flung himself straight into the hole. Planting a hand on the edge, he thrust his left foot in first and slid down the tunnel's slope. Every movement flowed naturally. The Isolation Technique had made controlling his whole body easier; even simple movements showed him how much his physical ability had improved. Of course, this was hardly the time to think about that. The instant he reached the bottom, his trained ears caught footsteps. Looking ahead, he saw the cobbler feeling his way into the first passage. The man's daughter came down behind Encrid and tried to rush past him. "Dad!"

Encrid caught her around the waist and set her behind him almost with a throw, shouting, "Stop!" The cobbler looked back, tension and confusion mingling on his face. His foot was already in the air. He completed the step.

BOOOOM!

Encrid felt the air compress and crush his body. It all happened in an instant. Flames, fire, an explosion.

WHOOOSH!

"Ghk!"

Before the cobbler could even finish his death cry, the erupting flames burned through Encrid. Through the cobbler, too, and the daughter behind Encrid. BOOM!

As he died, Encrid thought the blast would surge upward. A futile death. He endured the pain, bore it until darkness passed over him. Through the dreamlike black river, he opened his eyes once more to morning.

* * *

"Have a bad dream or something?"

Rem asked from beside him. He could hardly call it a good dream. The ferryman of the black river had been wearing a fucking smile. When he had repeated today in the past, at least it had felt as though each beginning and ending lay in his own hands. This time felt unfair. He had started to think it was beyond his power to stop. 'So if I leave them alone, they'll go to their deaths.'

The father first, then the daughter. How far would the aftermath reach? That didn't matter. He would have failed the moment they died. 'I could just look away.'

If Encrid looked away, those two would die. Certainly. But was that a problem? This was a world of killing and being killed. Such were the times. Encrid himself had killed countless people, since fighting on battlefields was his livelihood.

But... 'They haven't stepped onto a battlefield to kill or be killed.'

They were simply people trying to run their shop. Encrid knew that the knight he dreamed of becoming was no great figure possessed of the chivalry the Bards sang of. He had to follow reality, as the world had changed.

Even so...

'I don't want to lose.' He could look away and leave. What was so momentous about it? Just one more cobbler and his daughter dead. Except it had happened before Encrid's eyes. And he alone knew they would die. If this were war, if it were something beyond his power to stop, then yes, perhaps he would have to let it happen.

But...

'I can stop it.'

Then he couldn't leave it alone. Because he could stop it. He wouldn't call this chivalry. He would settle for calling it stubbornness. Yet that did not dim the chivalry he knew. To protect what he must, even if no one knew. That was Encrid's idea of a knight. A dreamer could not betray his dream. So Encrid had to go there, to the cobbler and his daughter. "Fucking hell."

Encrid began the day with a rare display of irritation. He hated how his own slow steps had gotten the cobbler and his daughter killed yesterday. "Must've been one seriously shitty dream," Rem muttered behind him. Beginning the day again, Encrid pondered the problem all through breakfast and the walk to pick up the commission.

'Do I have to try the passages one by one?'

It was hard to imagine a shittier task, when he didn't even know how many traps the passages held. But the truth was, he could think of no other way. He couldn't very well bring one of his squad members along, either.

'What would they think if I asked them to come because a cobbler thinks there's an undead monster under his shop?'

Even setting the teasing aside, he doubted any of them would come. He could force someone to, but he had no desire to do that. Would he cling to his squad members every time something happened? Or would he overcome it himself? Was the dream he had yearned for so desperately to stand behind someone else, running his mouth? Or to stand at the front, swinging his sword? He didn't know whether this would involve using a sword, but... 'I'll do it myself. I'll protect them.'

This wasn't something to lean on his squad members for. "I'm worried about that cobbler. You remember me, right?"

"I do. Was the snake liquor good?"

"Sweet as honey."

He took the commission again from the sewing Squad Leader, who was smacking his lips, and immediately set off at a near run. "Where are you going in such a hurry?"

Jaxon asked from behind him just as he was leaving.

"To the cobbler's. To save some unlucky civilians."

"... Are shoes or boots harassing civilians now?"

No, an underground passage was. Encrid answered only in his head and went straight to the cobbler's shop. Before he even reached the door, loud hammering greeted him. The cobbler must have been pounding at the floor.

BANG! BANG!

Encrid knocked forcefully to announce his arrival, and the cobbler came out, sweat running down his forehead. "Here, look. There's a hole!"

"So there is. Let's take a look."

He went over and helped open it up, hammering away and using a thick iron bar as a lever to pry up the boards. That was how they made the opening. "I'll go down. You wait here."

"Er, well, if a monster comes out..."

"I'll handle it."

Before descending, he struck a flint to light a torch.

FWOOSH! Somehow, just seeing fire felt enough to send him into convulsions. Burning to death twice ought to be plenty. As he stepped down, Encrid felt something strange: an instinctive aversion born of the fear of death. He did not want to enter those passages. But he didn't turn back. He readily overcame it and pressed on. If he looked away simply because he didn't want to face something, he would spend his entire life running. He had fled for his life many times, and regretted it every time. He didn't want to experience that regret again. So Encrid would not turn back. He went forward. One long stride. The more he looked at the first passage, the worse he felt. That left five of the six passages.

'Which one?'

They wouldn't have made proper passages only to fill every one with traps. Would the second be safe? Encrid carefully raised the torch and inspected the floor, walls, and even the ceiling. Nothing particularly stood out. Just branches of a tunnel with little to distinguish them. The passages were all roughly the same size, their ends lost in darkness. Who the hell had built this insane place beneath the city? It might even connect to the sewers. Dirt pattered down from overhead. The passages didn't look hastily built, but would they suddenly collapse and crush him to death? In any case, it was time to explore. He couldn't help wondering what the bastard who had built this looked like. 'Here goes.'

The second passage at the fork.

'Go into the first, and flames engulf you.'

What about this one? As he stood before the second passage, the unpleasant feeling rose again, making him want to turn back. He ignored it and took another step. That first tense step brought nothing unusual. No explosion, no flames, nothing else. Encrid carefully surveyed his surroundings. He raised the torch and inspected everything again. Then he reached a conclusion.

'Looking won't tell me anything, will it?' Devoting himself to the sword alone left him little time for anything else. He had seen something of dungeon exploration during his mercenary days, but lacked the knowledge to detect traps. That took proper training.

Which meant...

'There's no solution here.' He had no choice but to advance. Foreboding weighed on his entire body. It was as though a demonic beast waited before him with its jaws wide open. He felt like he was thrusting his head into its mouth, utterly unprotected. Just as he was about to overcome that feeling and move forward... "What are you doing?"

The cobbler had followed him down unnoticed and now spoke from behind him. That single question dulled the keen edge of the Sixth Sense that had been sensing danger. Taking a step no longer seemed such an extraordinary thing. What he had felt only moments before grew faint. "Stay back."

Burning to death alongside the cobbler once had been enough. As he took another step, that strange feeling returned. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but it was still much the same sensation. Something born of foreboding, as though he had made a mistake.

'A step I shouldn't have taken.'

The sudden thought was the answer. WHUMP.

It was the same as the first passage. Explosion, pressure, flames. He didn't know what lay hidden at the end of these passages, but one thing was certain: someone had prepared vicious traps. BOOOM!

With that roar, he burned to death. Of course, dying wasn't all he did.

'Ah.' As he died, Encrid gave a brief inward exclamation. Regardless of the pain, the beast's boldness gave him the foundation to assess exactly what he was sensing. Bringing his third today to a close, he unexpectedly sensed something.

And so he greeted his fourth today.