Chapter 142 - Through the Coordination of Senses and Body

After killing the sentries, Rem turned around.

Encrid and Ragna had not even had a chance to step in.

It was not as if they were going to wait here for the enemy.

"That was bland."

Rem said, twirling the axe in his hand. Blood on the axe blade spattered to the ground.

Seeing that, Encrid turned around.

"Ragna."

At the call, Ragna trotted after his Platoon Commander.

It was one of the points Krais had stressed again and again. Do not leave Ragna alone.

It was a measure taken because if they left him alone, it was obvious he would lose his way and become a lost child.

"You, barbarian. Know when to step forward."

Following after his Platoon Commander, Ragna threw out a remark.

As Ragna saw it, Encrid had been about to step in, but had not even been given the chance.

The barbarian did not know when to cut in and when to back off, so there was no helping the scolding.

Naturally, Rem did not meekly say he understood.

"Huh? What was that? You want another mouth on your neck? You want me to split your windpipe?"

"Enough."

With a calm heart, Encrid stopped the two of them. This was only the beginning.

They climbed back up the ridge.

Compared to descending, it should have been several times harder.

But this much, compared to all the rolling around he had done through the isolation technique, was at the level of child's play.

The same went for Rem and Ragna.

Among the lunatic platoon members who used axes and swords, there was no one whose stamina would run out from this much.

"Come on now, Pin, let's go."

Krais spoke as if this was not the time to fight, urging him on.

Pin nodded and set off.

It was the path over the ridge again.

Pin took the lead, Encrid followed behind him, and Ragna and Krais followed behind Encrid.

Krais had decent stamina in his own way, so he did not fall behind.

Only Mac was inwardly surprised as he watched their movements.

'Fast.'

Their steps held no hesitation.

It looked like a forced march that ignored stamina loss, yet none of them seemed short on strength.

Mac judged that he only needed to look after himself.

"Please breathe slowly and deeply."

This march, no, surprise attack? Strike mission? Whatever one called it, this would not end quickly.

There was a need to conserve stamina.

Mac said it, and Andrew nodded.

"I know."

A short reply came back.

It meant he understood even without being told the whole intention.

At those words, Mac felt strangely moved all over again.

When had he grown like this?

Once this battlefield was wrapped up, once they finally returned to the city, perhaps it was time for him to go find his own place now.

"It'll be hard. But, mm, I don't know. I'm looking forward to it."

Andrew's gaze, as he opened his mouth, rested on the back of his Platoon Commander.

Mac nodded so slightly that even Andrew could not see it.

He was inwardly looking forward to it too.

Just how far would that Platoon Commander go?

Would he truly grasp that something he called his dream?

Mac had ears, and he had a sense for things.

What the Platoon Commander wanted was something the man he was now could not grasp.

Andrew's dream, too, was on a level where it would not be unfair to call it absurd.

Mac was here to help him, but whether Andrew could truly save his house was something no one knew.

"There is no giving up."

Andrew muttered.

The young boy who had been nothing but a bloody little thing, who had trusted in his own skill and run his mouth.

That little brat was gone now.

There was only a man who had changed after watching his Platoon Commander's back.

"There is no giving up, indeed."

Mac answered in a voice that sounded needlessly proud.

It was probably not Encrid's intention, but Andrew had changed.

And that change had affected Mac as well.

Saving the house and the like, he would accept it as something that could obviously be done.

Mac organized what he would do once he returned and moved his feet.

He had to breathe slowly and deeply, moving while reducing useless motion.

Andrew walked beside him, controlling his breathing in a way similar to Mac.

While Mac and Andrew whispered to each other, Encrid walked and listened to his platoon members' breathing.

"You listen, and listen again."

If seeing aimed to develop dynamic visual acuity, hearing was the same.

By raising the speed at which one distinguished and grasped sounds, this too could develop.

The sound of pebbles scattering, the steps treading on the ridge, and on top of that, the breathing of his platoon members.

'Shallow and long.'

Mac and Andrew.

Both were preparing for the future.

What about Rem?

Rough.

There was no rhythm either.

Sometimes fast, sometimes slow.

It was hard to distinguish.

It suited his personality exactly.

Audin's breathing was so long that it was hard to tell where it ended and where it began.

Ragna was ordinary.

Jaxon could not be heard at all.

Then what about himself?

If there was a breathing pattern most similar to his own, it resembled Ragna's.

Ordinary.

It was fine to breathe ordinarily and move with steps his body had learned.

"I've been wondering for a while, but you weren't trained by Rangers somewhere, were you?"

Pin turned his head slightly back and asked.

Encrid answered as casually as usual.

"I learned by watching a Ranger I know from over his shoulder."

It was not wrong.

He had learned by watching Pin.

But it felt as if this question and this answer had happened sometime before.

It was the same as with Henri.

Back then, Henri had asked where he had learned about the plains, and Encrid had given a similar answer.

He wondered if that friend had returned to the city safely.

Since he had gone to join the unit escorting the captured troops, nothing much should have happened.

Even as Encrid continued thinking, he did not stop what he had been doing.

He listened, watched, and felt.

He walked while breaking his senses down into finer parts and training them.

Using the ridge stretching straight ahead as a reference, the right side was the enemy, and the left side was the allied position.

By now, the allied position had probably moved too.

Encrid only needed to do the task given to him.

As he walked and continued his training, he threw a question at Rem.

"What was that charge earlier?"

"If you're asking how I did it, I feel like I'll want to smack the Platoon Commander's head from behind."

Rem's reaction was somehow lukewarm.

There was a clear rebuking tone in his speech.

Why?

Encrid soon understood the reason.

'I asked without thinking.'

If he asked, an answer would come, so he had asked reflexively.

Perhaps it was because he had recently picked up the habit of giving orders.

People were not perfect.

The same went for Encrid.

He was fairly skilled at dealing with people.

He was used to advancing alone.

And apart from the spirit to move forward even if he had to crawl, never turning back.

'I'm lacking. I forgot to think it through.'

He made mistakes too.

That was what it meant to be human.

However, if there was one way he differed from others, Encrid's transition was fast.

He acknowledged his mistake, recognized it, and corrected it.

Without even answering Rem, Encrid began to walk.

He sank into his own world.

It meant he should have known even without asking.

The answer lay in what he had already learned.

Sprint, charge, what was needed?

Strength, muscular power, thigh muscles.

The heart of the superhuman.

What would happen if he multiplied the strength in the muscles of his entire body and burst forward?

Of course, training was needed, and time spent tempering himself was needed as well.

Still, he was simply happy because he could see the path.

Ah, this is it.

When a smile of delight brushed across Encrid's face, Rem saw it and chuckled.

Why are you asking stupid shit when it's plain as day?

That meaning was contained in his smile.

With Pin at the lead, they walked diligently.

As they walked, Pin was newly surprised.

Because every single one of them was like a monster.

Not one of them fell behind.

Was this easy?

No, it was not easy.

It was not as if they had received Ranger training either.

'This one is different from his pretty face too.'

The platoon member nicknamed Big-eyes was especially impressive.

He had heard this one was not a combatant, yet he did not fall behind in walking.

Of course, compared to the others, it was closer to him stubbornly following along by trusting in his stamina.

Even just that was enough to call impressive.

So they crossed over the ridge and stopped when they saw land covered in short underbrush.

"At this point, I think we've come around to the rear."

What was good about moving in a small group?

The foremost thing one could name was mobility.

They made full use of that.

It was downhill again.

This time, Audin and Jaxon followed.

"Ah, why."

Rem's lips jutted out, but they had originally decided to take turns stepping out.

If things went wrong, they needed to withdraw through evasive maneuvers, so people were needed to watch the rear.

Krais also needed protection.

As Encrid walked downhill, he wondered whether Esther might be watching from somewhere.

He had definitely brought her with him, but the moment they climbed the mountain path, she had hopped out of his arms and disappeared.

Maybe she was hunting somewhere.

He did not know.

It was probably not something he needed to care about.

Encrid descended along the downhill path and encountered the enemy sentries.

This time, their luck was worse than before.

FWEEEET!

The enemy soldier blew his whistle as soon as he spotted the suspicious figures.

It was a swift reaction.

Then, with the spear in his hand pointed forward, he shouted.

"Who are you? Stop right there."

Encrid approached without a word.

One of the sentries swept a hand across his waist.

It seemed he had a knack for throwing daggers.

In the hand that had swept across his waist, a throwing knife was held in reverse grip.

'See it with my eyes.'

And react with my body.

Move the body according to the senses.

The point was to raise reaction speed.

This was the technique called the sense of evasion.

WHOOSH.

The dagger flew.

In time with the incoming dagger, he lowered his stance and charged forward.

It was different from activating Concentrate on a Single Point and dodging.

Not with concentration, but with reaction speed.

Dull and composed.

That was the core of it, so he did just that.

Without activating the heart of the superhuman, he imitated the steps of the knight who had run toward the battlefield.

As he kicked off the ground with heavy steps and advanced, the enemy soldier thrust his spear.

The tip of the spearhead stretched straight out and stabbed toward the area near his chest.

See, react, dodge, and strike it away.

He put everything into one breath and bound it into a connected motion.

Encrid extended his left foot forward, twisted his body to avoid the tip of the spearhead, and pushed the spear shaft with his palm.

When he shoved the spear shaft aside with a *CLACK*, the stance of the enemy soldier holding the spear broke.

"Uh!"

The startled man's eyes drew close.

It was thanks to the fact that Encrid had not slowed his running speed.

Just as Rem had once shown him.

Encrid ran forward, knocked the spear shaft away, and slipped into the enemy's arms.

It was only natural that the fight after that was bland.

STAB!

Encrid drew his dagger, stabbed the enemy soldier in the nape of the neck, and pulled it out.

Blood gushed up from the slanted opening in his nape.

Encrid put the dagger away and felt satisfied in his own way.

'It works.'

It was a technique he had learned without repeating today.

*'The sense of evasion,'* a skill that raised the body's coordination.

There was something he had learned through this training as well.

Fundamentally, the body's reaction speed changed.

Then what result would that bring?

*'Even without Concentrate on a Single Point,'* he could show movement that was relatively faster than the enemy.

That was soon the seizing of the initiative in attack, and the start that would bring the seizing of space.

It was only natural the fight was bland.

Even if the opponent's skill was poor, and even if Encrid himself thought he had only just taken his first steps.

'It works.'

That in itself was joy.

Jaxon was pleased as he watched what Encrid showed.

Yes, that was how it was done.

It was basic, but clean.

Put negatively, it was the result of training in an ignorant way.

Put positively, it was thanks to walking with stubborn persistence.

That was the core of this training.

Stubbornly, and more stubbornly still.

Was it not a technique that suited Encrid rather well?

The more the training to develop the body's coordination according to the senses was repeated, the faster his reaction speed would become.

'Did he say his dream was to become a knight?'

There was no rule that said one should not chase a dream simply because it was absurd.

The same applied when he compared it to his own case.

If he had spoken of what he had wanted in childhood, the goal he had hidden inside his instincts, there would not have been a single person who would not have laughed at him.

His thoughts continued, but Jaxon's hands did their work more faithfully than at any other moment.

Before anyone knew it, he had taken the enemy soldier's back, placed a dagger against the man's neck, and drew it across.

SPURT.

There was no need to make blood shoot up like a fountain, as Encrid had.

"Urk!"

The enemy soldier whose throat had been cut held his spear in his left hand and clutched his own neck with his right.

Pressing the wound with his hand?

It was an unnecessary act.

Jaxon had already cut the large blood vessel in the neck.

Through countless experiences, Jaxon had seen humans die after having the blood vessel around that area cut.

Soon, blood streamed between the fingers clutching the neck.

When Jaxon kicked the back of his knee with a *THUD* and dropped him to the ground, the enemy soldier, having let go of his spear, slowly died like a fish out of water.

He would have no strength to scream, nor strength to blow a whistle.

"Let's go."

They had dealt with two sentries in an instant.

At the sound of the whistle, movement began to rise from inside the enemy unit.

It was time to pull out again.

"Let's."

Encrid, showing satisfaction, answered and turned around.

It was time to move through the mountains again.

They moved again.

They walked diligently.

Their withdrawal was as fast as ghosts.

What the Aspen unit that approached in response to the whistle saw was only their backs climbing the mountain.

"Chase them!"

The enraged rear command group of Aspen shouted, and the enemy soldiers soon pursued Encrid's party.

But how could they chase a small elite group that had crossed the ridge and vanished?

How were they supposed to deal with opponents who were faster on their feet than them, and who would counterattack if chased by an equally small number?

To Krais, this was the obvious result.

Why would it not be?

If the enemy could strike with a small elite force.

Then naturally, their side could do it too.

Of course, it would only have meaning if they were people on the level of the lunatic platoon.

"At a quick march."

After that, Encrid's voice was heard.

Krais stared quietly at his Platoon Commander.

Had the Platoon Commander read all of his intentions?

He found himself newly curious about that.