Chapter 94 - Punishment or Opportunity?

Soft moonlight filled the night. After putting his body through the same training as always, Encrid had washed and returned to the quarters. Though the weather was warming, the nights were still cold, and steam rose from his shoulders as he entered.

He knew he would have to cross the river in two days to survey the terrain beyond, but his training was as intense as ever. There was really no reason to change it. Whatever lay ahead, he still had to build on each day and press toward tomorrow. His routine remained the same—just as the ferryman had said, he was a tiresome fellow.

That was how he returned to the quarters. Henri, who had been talking with Krais off to one side, started toward him, then stopped. His eyes fell on Encrid's bed.

Esther had already settled there. She might play with the grimoire, but whenever bedtime came, she took her place there as though it belonged to her. Lying with her head resting on her forepaws, she glanced at Henri, then returned her gaze to her paws. She had not the slightest interest in him.

Henri treated the Lake Panther with caution. He would not even venture carelessly past her. Hadn't he said Lake Panthers were regarded as extraordinary guardian creatures on the Green Pearl plains? Keeping the bed between them, he raised his voice a little to ask,

"Have you ever had any special pathfinder training? You seemed to know something about it when I saw you before."

He hadn't. He could barely find his way around. Still, he knew why Henri had that impression, and he could understand it.

'I learned it all from you.'

There was no need to feel awkward. Henri couldn't remember it anyway. Encrid had relied on his knowledge in the tall-grass fields of Green Pearl. All he knew were the few things he had learned while repeating today back then.

Scratching his forehead, Encrid answered, "None at all."

"Then do you know the roads north of the river?"

North of the Penn-Hanil was close to the northern reaches. He had never been there, even during his mercenary days.

"It's spring now, so the ground will be starting to thaw, but it'll still be hard. I've traveled those roads a few times. Would you like me to tell you what I know?"

Henri was thoughtful. Had that disposition led him to become a hunter? Or had living as a hunter taught him to think that way? He was the sort to consider every angle and do whatever was most needed at the moment. That had helped him fit naturally into the unit. Even now, he had just gotten up from a lively conversation with Krais.

Rem didn't particularly torment Henri, either. Apart from Rem, the others might ignore someone, but they weren't inclined to pick fights.

"Heard you used to be a hunter. Looks like you've been around."

Rem sat on the edge of his bed, scraping a whetstone along the blade of the axe in his hand as he spoke. He cast a glance toward Andrew and Mac in a corner of the quarters. Andrew flinched under that look, hunching his shoulders before straightening them again.

"Cut it out," Encrid warned Rem.

"What, playing favorites again? Looking after the newcomers? Take a new wife and neglect the old one like that, and you'll end up with a knife in your back."

Did any of that even make sense? And who was the old wife, and who was the new one?

"Lunatic."

Summing up Rem's character and life in a single word, Encrid walked toward Henri. Esther had left the man unable to work up the nerve to approach Encrid's bed.

MRROW.

As he passed the bed, Esther gave a cry and tapped his thigh with a paw. The gesture seemed to tell him to finish his business and come to bed.

'Are you jealous too?'

Apparently Rem wasn't the only problem. There really was a peculiar undercurrent in the quarters, one that had developed since Henri, Andrew, and Mac joined them. They weren't called the troublemaker squad for nothing. It was hardly a welcoming atmosphere for newcomers.

Encrid hadn't tried to force them to get along. He knew that wasn't something he could arrange at will, and he didn't think they needed to act with one heart and one mind. On the battlefield, they each fought as they pleased. Following them around in some attempt at teamwork was a fine way to meet an early death.

Look after your own life. That was the troublemaker squad's only rule.

["I'm breaking out in a cold sweat."]

Henri had said that shortly after joining, cautiously watching the others.

But did he know this was actually an improvement? When new members had arrived before, the atmosphere had been genuinely murderous. Some had disrespected Encrid, their Squad Leader. A few days later, those men invariably ended up being carried off with broken bones or serious injuries.

Sometimes it had been Rem's doing. Sometimes someone else's.

'Most of it was probably the squad's handiwork.'

Encrid was exceptionally perceptive himself. Fortunately, things were better this time. These were all familiar faces, and for whatever reason, they seemed to like him. At least that should mean they wouldn't leave with broken bones. It was only a guess, but a plausible one.

"There are a few things to watch out for north of the Penn-Hanil River. I'm sure you can manage most of them yourself, but it's better to know than not. Have you seen those flat, slablike stones? There are plenty of them north of the river..."

Everything Henri told him afterward was practical knowledge: things he had experienced firsthand, and tricks passed down from earlier generations of hunters. All the flat stones would burst if heated over a fire, except the ocher-colored ones. Venomous snakes sometimes hid beneath those ocher stones. There were stretches where the river grew deeper and the current faster.

He couldn't memorize everything in a day, but even a rough idea made a world of difference. As he listened and committed the details to memory, bedtime arrived before he knew it.

At some point, Mac had taken the seat beside him. He leaned closer and whispered, "I have a favor to ask."

At those words, Encrid felt as though every squad member's gaze had fixed on them, apart from Ragna, who was out on duty. A warning from his Sixth Sense.

'Should I tell them to leave these two alone?'

What would happen if he left things as they were? He could imagine coming back from the mission to find Andrew and Mac withered away.

"Please put in a transfer request for me."

Despite the fierce looks, Mac said what he had come to say.

"Well, brother. You may join us as you please, but leaving isn't quite so easy."

That was Audin. He was joking. Teasing people for their reactions was practically a tradition in the troublemaker squad. But the person on the receiving end could only wonder whether it really was a joke.

"They heard everything?" Mac muttered.

Before Rem could say anything, Andrew stepped in. He leaped to his feet and practically shouted,

"You don't seem to like me. Then come at me! Whatever anyone says, I'm learning from the Squad Leader—no, the Platoon Commander. I'm not leaving!"

Such spirit. The spirit of a soldier young enough to be called a child. Perhaps they found that spirit appealing.

"Me first."

Rem sprang up, still holding the axe he had been sharpening. He stuck out his tongue and pretended to lick the blade.

"What shall I cut off?"

Even Encrid found the sight chilling. Those foreign features, those grayish eyes—and he sounded as though he meant it. Anyone who came at him looked likely to lose an arm at the very least.

"If you go first, I'm supposed to fight a fucking cripple? I'm first."

Jaxon shook his head as he spoke. It was the first thing he had said concerning Andrew since the latter joined.

"Brothers, you know I don't kill. I merely knead people a little. So I should go first."

All three were brimming with enthusiasm. At the sight, Mac grabbed Encrid's sleeve and shook it.

"Fuck, stop them. What is wrong with these people? Master Andrew, why would you say that?"

Encrid had to stop this before Mac cried. He couldn't bear to watch a grown man sniveling.

"Enough."

Still, this actually seemed like a good sign. Rem didn't treat people he disliked this way. "What shall I cut off?" really meant he was offering a spar. In other words, it was goodwill.

Jaxon normally ignored people without exception. The fact that he had spoken at all was goodwill in itself. Audin was no different. If he meant no kindness, he would only have said something like, "Restrain yourself, brother." He wouldn't have made that earlier joke in the first place if he disliked them.

Good grief. How was Encrid supposed to explain this?

"Thing is, kid, I'm a little busy. How about we do this once our esteemed Platoon Commander leaves on his mission? I'll have all the time in the world then. And I won't let you leave, even if you cry and beg."

Rem spoke with the same smile on his face. It was chilling. Andrew had gone pale, but he didn't back down. Did that count as exceptional mental fortitude?

"Come at me whenever you want! I'm Andrew of the Gardner family. I won't run!"

Surely Encrid wasn't the only one who thought he looked prepared to die.

Krais shook his head at the sight. Henri took a step back to watch. Rem kept grinning, fostering an atmosphere of terror, while Audin merely muttered, "Calm yourself, brother. You'll have to go through it either way."

Jaxon only looked the two of them up and down, his face expressionless. He did whisper very softly, though.

"Surely a few fingers would be all right."

The possibility that he meant it made it all the more chilling. Thinking that, Encrid spoke.

"Don't hurt them. They're fellow squad members. They'll be going into battle soon."

It was a warning, and an attempt to secure their promise. He couldn't forbid them from doing anything at all. Nor did he have the power to.

"And keep the noise down when you spar."

"Don't worry. I'll cut out their tongues first."

Would he stop with those jokes already?

"Come at me! I said, come at me!"

Calming the panicking Andrew kept them up past bedtime. When Encrid finally managed to settle things and get into bed, Esther slipped into his arms and smacked his chest. It felt like a scolding for coming to bed late, so he stroked her forehead with a finger and said,

"Sorry."

The panther promptly burrowed into his arms, purring. He felt her comforting warmth.

It wasn't as though Encrid had no worries about the future. Especially with the ferryman sometimes uttering dreadful things in his dreams. Tonight was no different.

He closed his eyes and fell asleep, and a winding black river appeared.

"Be trapped and howl. Your cries will be my sustenance and my pleasure."

KA-KA-KA-KA!

How did anyone make a sound like that when they laughed?

Being trapped in today was painful and frightening. What would happen if he could no longer move on? Just thinking about it made his chest ache with anxiety. But what was he supposed to do about it?

Encrid woke and shook off the nightmare. That was the end of it.

'What will happen will happen anyway.'

He still had to do what needed doing. He would keep walking his path.

"Good morning."

Having woken in the predawn hours, Encrid murmured to himself and began another day just like the rest.

He started with the Isolation Technique, then Balaf's bed martial arts. Afterward came sparring with Rem and sword training with Ragna, followed by practice projecting killing intent and honing his Sixth Sense with Jaxon.

"In some respects, intuition is a dangerous weapon. If your opponent is a skilled deceiver, you'll fall for it completely."

Those were Jaxon's words. What did he need to do to prevent that? The answer hadn't changed. Train, gain experience, and hone his skills in real combat.

Andrew, Mac, and Henri got along well enough while Encrid was still there. To his eyes, every squad member seemed to be showing goodwill, however fucked-up their methods were. As for those on the receiving end...

'It must be pretty rough.'

But wouldn't they gain just as much from it? Just as he had.

Two days passed that way.

"Let's go."

In the predawn hours, he passed between his sleeping squad members and left the quarters. Today he would cross the Penn-Hanil River on his terrain-survey mission.

The orders came directly from the Battalion Commander. Failure would mean trouble, but success would bring a fitting reward. Hadn't he heard that was the sort of man their new Battalion Commander was? Krais had talked excitedly about him.

["His name's Marcus. They call him the Warmonger, apparently. But they say he always rewards merit and punishes wrongdoing. In a way, he's a monster created by the Kingdom of Naurilia's military policies."]

A fitting reward for those who earned merit. An unforgiving blade for those who committed wrongs. A commander perfectly suited to the kingdom's army.

Then what was this mission he was setting out on? What was its purpose?

'Is this punishment?'

Or an opportunity? Encrid considered it an opportunity. Whatever the task, he would prove himself and build his reputation. Wasn't that what he wanted too?

"We meet again."

Before he left through the city gates, he met another man taking part in the river-crossing mission. More precisely, Encrid had joined him. It was Torres of the Border Guard, appointed to command the platoon.