Chapter 97 - Is There Really Something Wrong with Him?

It was nearly night by the time they reached camp. Thanks to the moonlight, it was not particularly dark. At some point, the gravel path had given way to grassland. Green was beginning to show through the earth, proof that winter was drawing to an end, though in the night it only shimmered violet. 'The moon is bright.'

Encrid looked up at the moon and shoved the stone he had been holding into his trouser pocket. The muscles in his right arm trembled. He had spent more than half a day walking here, practicing Torres's hidden knife the entire way, and his forearm was numb and sore. He opened and closed his hand a few times. It would be fine by tomorrow. Putting his body through the Isolation Technique had naturally taught him how quickly his muscles recovered. No, perhaps he would not even need until tomorrow. A short rest might do. "Playing with a stone all day. You really are an odd fellow."

That was the first thing Pin said when they arrived. Encrid had noticed her glancing at him throughout the journey.

"I like to keep my hands busy. It's a habit." He gave a perfunctory answer and surveyed the camp. It was not the usual collection of tents around a fire. To be precise, it seemed more appropriate to call it a warren than a camp. Several burrows had been dug here and there. "Find a hole you like, get inside, and cover it with camouflage cloth. A warming hide would make for a cozy night's sleep, but they're rare. We don't have any to spare."

One of the soldiers brought over a broad sheet of cloth as he spoke. Its ocher color matched the earth so well that a casual glance would hardly reveal a hole beneath it. 'A warming hide.'

Encrid did have one in his pack.

'I wonder how Esther is doing.'

She had hissed for quite a while when he tried to leave her behind. Something seemed to have displeased her. But he could hardly bring her along, so he had left her there. "It's cold, so share the burrows in pairs. You're new here, so you can sleep with me," Pin said, pointing at Encrid. He had a warming hide in his pack, and the burrows did not look particularly spacious. Two small people might manage. Someone Esther's size would be easy enough to sleep beside. But though he was no Audin, Encrid was not small either. In short, it would be uncomfortable. And she was a woman, which would make it more uncomfortable still. 'If anyone hears about this, there'll be another fuss.'

Rumors spread through the unit so quickly that he almost felt someone was watching him and reporting everything he did. Sure enough, Torres was staring at him from beside him. "I'm fine, thank you. I brought something for the cold."

Pin looked disappointed. "What about me? Am I sleeping alone?"

Torres seized the opening and raised a hand.

"A Border Guard Platoon Commander came unprepared? I'll put you with one of my soldiers."

"Why do I get a soldier?"

"The burrows are cramped." At that, Torres looked at Encrid, then down at himself. By any measure, he seemed to be the smaller one.

"What's going on?"

All he had earned was a scolding. Pin finished making the basic arrangements for her troops and began taking things out of the burrow she had claimed. As Encrid watched, Torres came over.

"Why do I feel offended?"

Why was he asking Encrid that?

"Because you're tired?"

"Is that what this is? Really? Does the irresistible Squad Leader who even won over the Company Commander... No, you're a Platoon Commander now. Does our irresistible Platoon Commander really think so?"

"Yes."

"Bastard."

Torres said it jokingly and turned away. The burrow was not all that cramped. It sloped down from the surface, with cloth lining the interior to keep out damp. Once he climbed inside and covered the entrance with the camouflage cloth, it felt surprisingly cozy. He came back out, wrapped himself in his warming hide, and tried again. Quite livable. "You've come well prepared. Want some?"

One of the scouts approached and offered him jerky.

"No, I've brought my own." The jerky he had been given before had been so delicious that he had tracked down its source and obtained a few more pieces.

["It's my mother's secret recipe."]

The soldier had said it with an unassuming smile. His mother ran a small eatery behind an inn, and the food was excellent. Her main offering was whatever meat she had on hand, coated in sauce and grilled. The sauce was wonderful. The skewer shop had a good reputation in the neighborhood. 'I'll have to get some more when I return.'

Buying jerky there regularly seemed like a good idea if he could manage it. He had asked Krais to look into something along those lines before leaving. In any case, he took some jerky from his pack and bit into it. Sweet seasoning with a hint of heat spread through his mouth. Whatever the secret was, the meat was tender, too. Encrid had no knack for cooking. Food like this never failed to amaze him. What meager talent he possessed lay solely in swinging a sword. He had picked up assorted other skills since his mercenary days, but had never become good at any of them. There had only ever been the sword, and his dream of becoming a knight. After chewing and swallowing a few pieces of jerky, he lay down, and drowsiness washed over him. A land of demonic beasts and monsters. Henri's warning came to mind as he drifted off, but his first day on Cross Guard's doorstep passed without incident. He had even considered the possibility of dying during the night. Yet nothing happened at all. Since it was his first day, they had excused him from sentry duty, too. Encrid woke by reflex before dawn. He went outside and stripped off his upper garments. Cold air enveloped his body, sharpening his mind. That sharpened mind became the impetus that set his body moving. Wearing only his trousers, he began the Isolation Technique. He planted his hands on the ground and rose onto his toes, then began driving his knees up toward his abdomen in kicking motions before moving through a range of other exercises. "... What are you doing?"

The last sentry of the night had been watching him, back propped against a tree among the sleeping burrows.

"Morning training."

"You do know where we are?"

"On Cross Guard's doorstep."

"And you're doing that anyway?" None of the scouts here knew Encrid. Their bafflement was understandable. After working his body to the point of punishment, he drew his sword and began swinging it. Pin woke to see it, as did all the others. Everyone except Torres watched with an expression that said, What is he doing? "Is there really something wrong with him?"

Pin seemed to be asking herself. Torres came up beside her, wrapped in the thick cloak he had brought instead of a blanket.

"That's his daily routine."

"He does that every day?" As she spoke, Pin recalled Encrid's body. She had seen it only yesterday. The memory was still vivid. Sculpted muscles, powerful legs, and that hefty thing between them.

'Ah, training can't do anything about that.'

She turned her recollection away from that hefty thing and back to the rest of him. She could see how he had built such a body. Life in this land was physically punishing in itself, so everyone here was exceptionally well conditioned. What did it take to stand out even among them? Work twice as hard as everyone else. Just like that. But knowing the answer hardly made it easy to do. "Will he have any strength left to fight if we run into monsters this afternoon?"

From what she could see, he looked liable to give himself muscle cramps.

"He did that, then sparred with me more than ten times. And then we made yesterday's march." Torres subtly worked in the implication that he had expended a comparable amount of stamina himself. But Pin's eyes never left Encrid. Why? Because every swing of his sword felt as though he was burning his soul to fuel it. "He looks like a madman."

Despite the words, Torres could hear no malice whatsoever in her tone. Only admiration and affection.

'What did he even do?' He felt he was witnessing the irresistible Platoon Commander's power all over again. All the man had done was bathe, walk, sleep, wake up, and train. Yet he seemed to have won over a soldier of sufficient rank to command scouts in this harsh land. 'Is this how he charmed the Company Commander, too?'

Or was his physique what really mattered? Was it the impression he had left by the river? Torres's wandering thoughts were soon cut short. Everyone's fascination with Encrid lasted only a little while.

"Let's get something to eat." The sun was rising. Pin's scouts could not light fires wherever they pleased, but neither did they live on jerky and dried fruit every day. Cross Guard lay half a day's journey east of their camp. A short walk northwest brought them to a small forest. That was their dining room. "Aren't you going to eat? We might catch a rabbit if we're lucky." There were eight scouts, including Pin. Not a large number. They could feed themselves as hunters did: by living off the land. Adding two more mouths did not change their eating habits. "There's a stream in there, too. You can wash."

Pin was looking at Encrid as she spoke.

"May I wash my clothes as well?"

He asked without making anything of her gaze. As commander of the Independent Platoon, he could technically be considered her equal. In practice, things were a little different. Apart from the soldier grading system, a Scout Platoon Commander who held the title of ranger stood somewhere between a Company Commander and a Platoon Commander. Much like Torres. A Border Guard Platoon Commander likewise held a different standing. "Washing, eating, and seeing to your kit whenever you have time is a soldier's duty." In a way, sending only two people as reinforcements was odd enough. Having both be platoon-commander level was hardly ordinary, either. Pin considered it, but did not pry. She was only a ranger serving on the front lines. They soon reached the forest to the northwest, made a base by the stream, and gathered dry branches and the like. Along the way, they encountered two demonic beasts. Encrid merely watched. "SKREEE!" Demonic beasts were mutated animals. Animals that had become monsters in one form or another. So something like this was possible, too. A deer demonic beast. Its skin was peeling in patches as though it had contracted a plague, and what remained was bluish. The moment its unfocused black eyes fixed on Encrid, pupils indistinguishable from irises in the way peculiar to demonic beasts... THWIP, THWIP, THWIP. The sounds came from behind him. Three scouts had raised their shortbows and fired together. Two arrows struck the deer demonic beast in the forehead and one in the neck. Demonic beast, monster, or human, a pierced skull meant death. The deer fell with a dying cry. Its knees buckled and its head struck the ground. Three soldiers approached, nudged it with their toes to confirm it was dead, then retrieved their arrows. One clicked his tongue.

"Tch. Broken."

The shaft lodged in its neck had snapped when it fell. 'They look used to this.'

How would he fare in a fight to the death with a scout, if close combat were off the table? He could hardly guarantee a victory. In a head-on fight at close quarters, he would certainly win, but...

'If several came at me at once.'

It would not be easy. This unit had not survived in a land of demonic beasts and monsters for nothing. "I hear you're a high-grade soldier. Any hunting experience?"

"A little."

He had learned some things from Henri, and others during his years as a mercenary and his travels across the continent. Of course, he was no skilled hunter. His expertise lay elsewhere. Just then, one of the scouts who had gone ahead first returned.

"Shit. Ghouls. Should we move?"

"How many?"

"I counted ten, then more came up behind them, so I pulled back." Ghouls had appeared. It did not seem to be a common occurrence, but neither was it particularly rare. They had gone to the trouble of lighting a fire and preparing this spot. Yet ten Ghouls were a daunting prospect for the scouts, especially since the ones here were fast on their feet. If there were too many to stop with a few arrows, they would have to engage in close combat. A quick look showed three soldiers carrying shortbows. What, then, should they do upon encountering a pack of Ghouls? Avoid them. That was the best course. "What a fucking nuisance."

Even Pin was grumbling when Encrid stepped forward.

"Which way?" he asked. The question might have seemed out of place, but his eyes were on the soldier who had just seen the Ghouls. The soldier blinked, failing to grasp what he meant.

"The Ghouls," Torres clarified, stepping forward. Torres had a rough measure of Encrid's skill. Above all, his specialty was Heavy Sword Technique. Compared with Torres's own preference for daggers, he could be considered specialized in hunting monsters. Besides, had Torres not already seen him kill human-faced hounds and harpies? "The Ghouls around here aren't tame."

Having realized what Encrid intended, Pin spoke with concern.

"I don't think you need to worry."

Torres stepped up beside him.

"I can just back you up, right?"

"Just keep them from moving," Encrid replied.

He meant not to let a single one escape.

"Of course." Encrid wanted to prove his ability. Pin and several of the other scouts exchanged glances. Combat was part of their daily lives, too. But ten fleet-footed Ghouls were far from easy opponents. A single dose of the poison seeping from their nails could put someone out of action. "Hey."

Pin tried to stop him, but Encrid was already twitching his nose.

'Rot.'

Sharpening his sense of smell gave him a rough idea of which direction the Ghouls were coming from. Could he hunt this way, too? It seemed he could locate prey by scent and sound. In any case, now was the time to cut down Ghouls. Encrid kicked off the ground.

"Uh, hey!"

Pin, Torres, and the scouts rushed after him. Encrid's attitude, his actions, all of it had the power to make people want to see what he would do. Whether he lived or died, whether they helped or not, they wanted to go and watch first. Just what would this fellow who had been showing off his body all morning do? Naturally, Encrid did what he had come to do. And at the sight, Pin's eyes went wide.