Chapter 89 - He Reflected on the Past but Left No Regrets

"Form up!"

The commander's shout rang out. Eight wolf demonic beasts were approaching. Demonic beasts and monsters were dangerous. Border Guard was particularly active about clearing them from its surroundings, as trading companies and peddlers constantly traveled to and from the city. "Why are they such a nuisance in winter?"

A soldier grumbled as he raised his pike. To Encrid, it sounded as though he was deliberately talking to ease his nerves. At the order, twenty soldiers formed a solid defensive square against the wolves. The standard approach was to pit several men against each demonic beast, and the Platoon Commander stuck to the basics.

Encrid found that frustrating. 'This is a first.'

He meant this urge to rush out into real combat, a desire that sparring could not satisfy. A fight that drew blood. Time to sort through what he gained from it. The very moment of taking another step forward.

Those were the things Encrid wanted. Not to stand with a pike, poking at the hides of demonic beasts that edged closer little by little. This was no help. He was even beginning to feel bored, when normally the sight of demonic beasts should have made his knees tremble. Rem, who had been unusually obedient, snickered beside him.

"You look frustrated."

Normally, Encrid would have told him to spend less time staring at his face and more time stabbing a beast in the eye. But his frustration brought out a different answer.

"You can tell?" "You're a stone that won't fit with the rest now too, Squad Leader."

Rem snickered at his own cryptic remark, then added,

"Didn't you know there's a hair's breadth between extraordinary and crazy?" He hadn't.

What would happen if he leaped into the midst of those eight beasts? Assuming Rem backed him up, of course.

Surely that would finish things much faster than jabbing away with twenty pikes to kill them one by one. How long would it take to clear all the monsters and demonic beasts in the area at this rate?

A long time. It felt like a waste. He had never once neglected formation training, so his body naturally fulfilled its duty as one soldier in the square. But the frustration remained.

Rem kept snickering beside him, and it felt as though he were pushing Encrid from behind.

Why had he tagged along just to do this? Encrid thrust his pike. The forceful point scraped the hide of a beast's forepaw.

GRRR!

The wolf bared its fangs in pain. Seeing this, the Platoon Commander drove his spear toward its head, but the cunning beast darted back out of reach. After watching that, Encrid deliberately distracted himself with other thoughts. Otherwise, he doubted he could resist the urge to charge out, draw his sword, and cut them down.

The panther he had come to keep by chance surfaced in his mind.

'Esther.' Not long after he returned from splitting that crazy sewer-mage bastard's head open, the Lake Panther had come back utterly drained. She smelled musty, as though she had been eating sewer rats.

Perhaps she had gotten too absorbed in hunting the city's rats. She had lain on the floor, spent, doing nothing but panting.

Feeling sorry for her, he had soaked jerky in water himself, torn it into strips, and fed it to her. Esther had readily gobbled down everything he offered. 'What has she been getting up to?'

WOOF!

While he was distracted, a wolf came within pike range. Encrid set aside the thought of Esther and stabbed at its approaching head. THUNK.

Part of its scalp tore, spraying blood.

"Don't give ground!"

The Platoon Commander's shout rang out. The beasts tried to approach while the soldiers kept them at a distance, threatening them with thrusting spearpoints. This fight would not end easily.

After taking several stabs, the charging pack retreated.

This was the right way. This was the textbook approach.

But it was still frustrating. He looked at the Platoon Commander leading the soldiers, a clean-cut man with a solid build.

Was he from Second Company or Third? Stifled and frustrated, Encrid worked his pike. It was hardly masterful work, just thrusting and pulling back. It felt like wearing ill-fitting clothes.

Spears simply did not sit comfortably in his hands. Had he chosen one as his main weapon, he suspected he would have been even worse with it than with a sword. Ragna had once told him,

["A sword, a spear... Some weapons may come more naturally to you than others."]

Knights were generally encouraged to learn a variety of weapons. Encrid had learned the basics, but only the sword had felt as though it belonged in his hand. 'The sword.'

The sword alone.

From the moment he first held one, it had felt like meeting an old friend. The exhilaration of that first grip. The joy. The anticipation.

His pounding heart. The warmth of sharpened steel. 'Ah, I want to use my sword.'

He wanted to revisit the experience he had gained in the mage's den. He wanted to swing a sword, not a pike. "I'll grant that wish."

Rem muttered beside him. By the time Encrid looked his way, he was already charging forward.

"We'll be here all night!" Rem charged with a gleeful shout, his voice full of cheer. Dirt flew with every push of his feet. His movements were explosive. He looked wilder than the wolves as he ran. "That crazy bastard!"

The Platoon Commander exploded as though he had been waiting for it. Holding formation was fundamental when fighting demonic beasts. Breaking it endangered the other soldiers.

Charging out was wrong. Encrid knew that perfectly well.

But... 'We just have to kill them all.'

He couldn't stand it anymore. He literally could not suppress the urge: the desire to get out there, swing his sword, and revisit what he had learned.

Inwardly, Encrid closed his eyes. For a moment, he relied on Sixth Sense rather than rational judgment.

Following his instincts, he too threw aside his pike, kicked off the ground, and ran forward. "What? Why you too?!"

The Platoon Commander's shout receded behind him.

Rem's outburst had been within the commander's expectations. Encrid's had not.

No wonder he was startled. "Having fun?"

Sensing Encrid following him, Rem spoke as he began swinging both axes. The blades traced arcs through the air, each ending, of course, in slaughter. His first blow split the head of the wolf approaching from directly ahead. His second axe swept sideways, splitting the jaw of a beast that had sprung around to bite his arm.

Those two axes were executioner's blades. "A little."

He would admit what was true.

Encrid drew his sword, sweeping it in a broad horizontal cut as it left the sheath. A beast's charge stopped short as the blade sliced its foreleg. YELP!

Demonic beast or not, it cried out much like a dog.

Encrid drew back his outstretched arm and brought the sword down vertically, splitting the wolf's head.

THUNK! He pulled the sword from the split skull and slammed his sword-holding fist into the head of a wolf charging from the side.

THWACK!

The blow sent it tumbling sideways. Only eight.

'I'm not sure when I started calling eight demonic beasts "only eight."'

Still, Encrid did not feel threatened by them now. Axes split heads, and a sword cleaved and slashed wolves. The arming sword in his hand did not cut as satisfyingly as his longsword, but it was not bad at all.

Ragna had been disappointed that he couldn't come along. Of the eight beasts, one had died on the pikes of the soldiers in formation. Of the remaining seven, four fell to Rem's axes and three were split open by Encrid's sword.

It was outstanding work, proof that he had not earned his high-grade soldier status for nothing. "Holy shit. He can really fucking fight."

One of the soldiers in the formation muttered in admiration. The Platoon Commander should have exploded in anger. He should have, but...

'He's left me nothing to say.'

He really could fucking fight. Forming a defensive square might be the standard approach to demonic beasts, but making use of exceptional fighting strength was also part of a commander's job. Instead of getting angry, the Platoon Commander considered efficiency. That was fortunate for Encrid and Rem. Strictly speaking, both had disobeyed orders. Above all, the Platoon Commander valued Encrid himself. He had caught glimpses of him several times before, and he had hardly seemed impressive then. When had he become this skilled?

Had he suddenly improved, as the rumors said?

He didn't know. He could be certain of nothing. He could only judge the result. 'At least high grade.'

He could have passed for one of the guardsmen known as the Frontier Slaughterers. When they went out to hunt demonic beasts, they relied on individual skill rather than maintaining formations like this. "You two."

Instead of reprimanding them, the Platoon Commander decided to give them a battlefield. If they wanted to fight, he would let them.

"Some troublesome beasts have appeared elsewhere. Head there." "Have they?"

Standing among the dead beasts, Encrid the Spellbreaker nodded. His unruffled attitude drew something like cheers from some of the soldiers. After all, hadn't they wiped out the beasts? That finished this commission. The unit would move on to support another area, so they would be able to rest for a little while.

Nobody enjoyed risking their life fighting demonic beasts. Extraordinary or crazy—you had to be at least one of the two. "We're returning to the city to regroup."

The Platoon Commander decided to withdraw with his unit.

Encrid glanced at Rem, who grinned as he roughly wiped beast blood off his axes.

"You owe me, eh?"

"Owe you what?" Despite his words, it had been a relief. But his hunger still outweighed his satisfaction.

'Not enough.'

It was a thirst that a few wolf demonic beasts could not quench. Real combat, not sparring.

The fire kindled in Encrid's chest blazed. "Let's go. He told us to head somewhere else," Rem said. Several soldiers who were returning to base approached and gave Encrid a light tap on the chest.

"Thanks to you, we're heading back early."

The grinning soldier looked familiar. Encrid searched his memory. He had been at the dice game during the first day Encrid had repeated. The man pressed some jerky wrapped in clean cloth into Encrid's hand.

"Try it. It'll knock your socks off."

With that, he turned away. Several others gave him friendly looks too. An ally who fought well was always appreciated, and Encrid's easygoing temperament had earned him a decent reputation as well.

Unlike Rem.

Everyone kept a reasonable distance from him. His barbarian origins were part of it, but his rough temper and habit of picking fights with anyone whenever he was bored were all too well known. "We fought together, but they're treating us differently. What is this, discrimination?"

"You reap what you sow."

As he spoke, Encrid tore off a strip of jerky to share with him, then took a bite. 'This is different.'

It was delicious. The tender piece of jerky rolled around his mouth before slipping easily down his throat. It was salted just right, and whatever seasoning coated it gave it a pleasant sweetness. "What the hell? Why's this so good?"

"I know. I'll have to ask him for more later."

Encrid could only wonder what secret went into making it. He tugged his gloves into place. Made from thick leather, the chestnut-brown gloves encased his hands in sturdy protection. They were among the possessions of that corpse-loving mage from the sewers. In particular, punching the wolf had sent far less shock back through his hand than he expected. These were another fine piece of equipment.

The mage's deeds were deeply unsettling, but what fault did his belongings bear?

The gloves were sturdy. They seemed to be made from several layers of leather, providing protection while also being excellent for punching. They made a good substitute for gauntlets. The leather armor around his torso beneath his gambeson was just as reassuring. It had protected him from a mage's trick, after all.

When Krais had told him it was no ordinary piece of equipment, he had only expected something durable. Reliable equipment, along with his newfound understanding.

His fighting spirit blazing, Encrid said,

"Let's go." Following the Platoon Commander's orders, Encrid set off with Rem for another area. They headed toward the gathering of friendly troops, half a day's journey south of the city. "Looks like this is it."

"Seems so."

They had found the place with only a rough map and directions. They arrived to find a fully established defensive position. Unless an operation to eradicate monsters or demonic beasts was quite serious, troops did not go to such lengths.

More importantly, there was already a considerable commotion. He had thought he saw something flying in the sky on their way over.

Muttering, Encrid joined the battlefield. Rem bounded after him. SKREEEE!

A cry erupted overhead. A hideous monster announced its presence. Beneath it, several soldiers lay sprawled, their eyes gouged out or their arms, legs, and bodies raked and torn. "My eye! My eye!"

"Aaaaagh!"

"Fuck! Kill it! Kill it!" Several crossbowmen fired bolts skyward.

THRUM-THRUM-THRUM!

The bolts sliced through the air without a single one hitting its target. SKRAAAA!

The monster's cry was a dreadful noise, enough to make anyone want to cover their ears. This was a battlefield, and the enemies were monsters and demonic beasts.

Directly beneath the flying monsters, heavily armored troops had formed up by platoon. Every man wore mail: heavy infantry. That made them First Company, the company composed of heavy infantry. "Everyone, hold your positions!"

The infantry Company's commander roared. The monsters flying overhead were called harpies. They had a woman's upper body, wings in place of arms, and the lower body of an eagle.

Red feathers fluttered in the air, and their breasts bounced. Though their breasts were like women's, the sight held no sexual appeal. It was simply repulsive. Encrid stiffened for an instant at the sight of the harpies. He remembered a time in the past when he had been forced to turn away from his companions' deaths.

Against a harpy, the desperate resistance of a few mercenaries meant nothing.

Death upon death, then flight.

It was a painful memory. He could not call them friends, but he had lost more than a dozen companions. SKREE!

A harpy's cry could unsettle the human mind. There were already more than five airborne. Five crossbowmen aimed skyward, but as he had just seen, shooting them down seemed impossible. They had only just entered the battlefield.

"Had a feeling we'd find something fun. You all right?"

Rem asked beside him. At that instant, a harpy swooped at the two newcomers. WHOOSH!

It plunged through the air. Its eaglelike talons were as hard as steel. Anyone caught by them who lost only an eye could count themselves lucky.

Otherwise, their skull would have been ripped apart. The approaching harpy made Encrid reflect on the past, but only for a moment. He left no regrets over what had passed.

Instead, he put his strength into the next step forward. That was how Encrid lived. SHING.

He drew his sword. For an instant, everything around him seemed to slow. At the same time, he traced a path connecting points and lines, and his Sixth Sense sounded a warning.

The boldness granted by the heart of the beast filled his body with strength.

In time that felt slow to him alone, Encrid's sword moved to meet the plunging harpy's trajectory.