Chapter 26 - A Way Out

'I should have dodged there.'

Encrid ruminated again on the today from yesterday that existed only for him.

'No, dodging wasn't the issue. I was too obsessed with a single strike.'

Dodge what needs to be dodged, and strike what needs to be struck.

Hadn't he repeatedly heard that split-second judgment was important?

From countless sword instructors, and from Rem as well.

"What's the point of seeing well thanks to the Heart of a Beast? If you pick the wrong choice, you just die."

He felt as though Rem was standing next to him, giggling and mocking him.

That bastard Rem definitely would have said that if he knew.

Encrid ruminated on that moment over and over again.

'A slightly different route today.'

He changed paths every day. It was the privilege of someone who possessed a repeating today.

"We will capture the enemy reconnaissance squad beyond this grass field. How about it?"

Today as always, the Recon Squad Leader was leading everyone to the abyss.

He didn't have the slightest intention of stopping him.

No, Encrid knew that changing the reconnaissance route was useless.

Taking any other route would result in the same thing.

'It means this entire area is already full of ambushing forces.'

Enemy forces were swarming around the Tall Grass Fields.

If he wanted to survive, returning to the main base as soon as he opened his eyes would be the answer, but.

'There's no way that's possible.'

Doing so would be insubordination.

Insubordination could lead to summary execution in severe cases.

Even so, should he abandon these nine and desert by himself?

Was he supposed to survive like that?

'Did I learn the sword to do that?'

Knight, General, Hero.

Even now, he swung his sword dreaming of such things.

But was leaving them behind knowing they would be massacred the answer?

Was that truly the best choice?

'No.'

Everyone has something they cannot compromise on.

Encrid knew that he was neither a good-natured man nor a saint.

But this was a part he could not compromise on.

Someone might call this conviction.

Someone might call this stubbornness.

And Encrid would not care what others called it.

'It's what I decided.'

If he had lived according to the standards set by others, he would have given up everything long ago and taken up a lazy position in the Town's Watch in some quiet village.

He discarded the option of fleeing.

Finding a way to escape today aside from that was his goal.

He fought again. Bled and killed enemy soldiers. This time, his sword broke while he was using it as a shield to block.

And his head was struck by a spear shaft.

The world spun around.

Naturally, death followed.

He didn't know exactly whether the cause was the spearhead gouging his chest or the spear shaft smashing his head.

It repeated again.

He died and died again.

By repeatedly experiencing life-or-death actual combat, he digested what he learned from sparring.

And he reflected on the things he knew.

Throughout all that time, Encrid kept exactly two things in his mind.

One was how to fight more.

Two was how to escape this today.

Moving toward tomorrow.

Encrid knew that unceasing effort was required for that moment.

Because he had passed two todays in such a way.

However, the situation was a bit different this time.

'I can't see a path.'

Everywhere he went was full of enemy soldiers.

He had no idea what was so good about grasshoppers, katydids, insects, eye-obscuring Tall Grass Fields, and damp, muddy ground to ambush such a large force there.

'Tenacious bastards.'

Moreover, they were all properly trained soldiers.

They weren't some ragtag mercenaries fighting for money.

Nor were they conscripts reluctantly dragged out.

They were all salaried soldiers.

And some even treated such groups of soldiers as elite troops.

Elite troops might have a different meaning on a large-scale battlefield.

But in a battlefield of this size, professional soldiers were indeed elite troops.

If soldiers who only practiced fighting while swinging spears with full bellies weren't elite troops, what kind of soldier could be called elite?

'This is a headache.'

If he ambushed them, he could kill up to three or four.

But anything more than that was impossible.

Especially fighting while fleeing with a group of soldiers armed with crossbows behind him was even more impossible.

'The martial prowess to kill them all.'

Would it be possible if he repeated and repeated this today countless times?

To attain such martial prowess?

No, it wasn't.

He knew because he had tried it.

What was the reason he had tried to overcome that stabbing soldier and move forward to tomorrow during his first repeating today?

'There's a limit to what you can learn within stagnant time.'

Encrid knew himself well. To increase his skills and feel the joy of growth, he needed a good teacher and an opportunity.

That didn't mean he wasted his repeating todays in vain.

Auditory training, swordsmanship, combat review.

He repeated and repeated again.

Although faint, his growth was continuing.

"I am confident in my archery, but I'm faint-hearted, so my hands shake when it becomes a melee."

Henri said from his side. It was something he had heard a few times.

Things like how he was faint-hearted himself, but still possessed quite decent skills when shooting a bow.

"Are you good enough to hit an apple placed on a head from a hundred paces away?"

As he threw a joke to cool his head.

"A hundred paces away is impossible, but I can give it a try within thirty paces. If you go place an apple on the Recon Squad Leader's head over there, I'll try to shoot it."

"That's a shame, I don't have an apple."

"Indeed, it's a shame."

Henri knew how to enjoy a joke.

"But I'm really quite confident if it's within thirty paces. I don't know about the apple on the head, but hitting the head itself, that is."

Henri added. It was a fairly serious face.

"If you hit them in the head with arrows one by one, you'll roughly take down ten enemies."

Encrid said, glancing at Henri's quiver.

The flat leather quiver tied around his waist held approximately ten arrows.

To prevent them from shaking, a leather strap was wrapped and connected around his thigh and waist, and that strap was gathered and tied around the ten arrows again.

It would be easy to pull out and use later if he just loosened the strap slightly.

As expected of a former plains hunter, Henri looked adept at both handling a bow and moving with arrows.

"Hey. What are you giggling about? We're in the middle of a reconnaissance mission. Anyway, tsk."

Up ahead, the Recon Squad Leader glared at them. He even clicked his tongue.

Of course, Encrid didn't even care.

That brat cutting in with a word had also happened several times during his repeating todays.

'It would be nice if we could start by taking down a couple with arrows.'

The tough-looking soldier walking behind the Squad Leader gave Encrid a look.

It seemed to mean he shouldn't answer and just stay quiet.

It was the same as before.

There was no need to get red in the face, so there was no point in arguing.

'Then it'll be much easier to ambush from this side.'

A simulated battle continued in Encrid's head. The information collected through the repeating todays manifested the simulated battle quite plausibly in his mind.

Eventually, he dies. More likely than not, he would die.

Even if there was a clear difference in skill with the opponent, the difference in numbers was too great.

It might be different if they at least had the advantage in armament.

'And that isn't the case either.'

What would Rem have done?

There wouldn't even be anything to think about. He would have charged in holding two axes in both hands and swung them fiercely.

With Rem's skill, even if he couldn't kill all a hundred men.

It would be possible to kill as many as he could and slip away.

He possessed that agile and unconventional level of skill.

'It's funny that such a guy is merely a soldier.'

Even though Rem himself didn't seem particularly dissatisfied.

In a way, it seemed he was the only one in the troublemaking squad who had any ambition.

Because it seemed he was the only one who wanted to become more than a Squad Leader.

What was the point of thinking about squad members who weren't even here?

Encrid changed his mind.

A small thread snake slithered quickly through the short-grown grass.

The height of the grass stepped on by his feet was gradually increasing.

It was proof that they were approaching the Tall Grass Fields.

'I am not Rem.'

He pictured the simulated battle in his head again. As he did, a thought suddenly occurred to him.

'How good is the Squad Leader's skill?'

He had been too frantic to see it properly until now.

He had only recognized it as not being bad.

The Recon Squad Leader, the tough-looking soldier, and Henri.

Even the remaining Recon Squad members.

The thoughts followed one after another until they produced an answer.

"I don't need to protect them."

"... Pardon?"

At the soliloquy that slipped out unconsciously, Henri asked back from his side.

"It's nothing."

He had been stupid. Until now, Encrid had tried to break through this alone.

He had fought with the concept of protecting everyone by himself, and had passively dealt with the moment they encountered the enemy forces.

Therefore, he thought he had used every means possible until now, but one remained.

A means capable of completely changing the board altogether.

CRACK, CRACK.

Encrid cracked his neck left and right.

There was still some time left before they reached the grass field.

Encrid, who walked forward with long strides, grabbed the tough-looking soldier's shoulder and pulled him.

"Hmm?"

He reflexively tensed his body.

"What is it?"

"You glared at me earlier, didn't you?"

He knew. That it wasn't a glare, but a look asking for understanding.

But for a friend whose face was a weapon, just looking was the same as glaring.

"No, hey, that's not it."

"Why are you talking so much."

SWISH!

Encrid swung his fist. The tough-looking soldier leaned his head back and dodged.

"... What's with you? Have you lost your mind?"

Up ahead, the Recon Squad Leader asked in bewilderment.

"Come at me."

Encrid ignored him and kicked the opponent's ankle. The tough-looking soldier narrowly dodged that too and furrowed his brow.

"You seemed like a guy with some tact."

"It's because I have tact. That I read your disgusting glare, right?"

Rem had admitted it.

That Encrid might be the best on the continent at getting under people's skin with words.

"Come at me, you ugly bastard not even a passing cow would look back at."

It was indeed true.

Because with just a few words, the face of the soldier who exuded experience all over his body turned red.

"Alright, you're going to take a few hits. You."

Encrid fought with him.

Instead of drawing his sword, using his fists as swords and his feet as blunt weapons.

The hits given and taken were roughly even.

No, to be honest, he was pushed back a little.

'He fights well.'

Judging by the standards set by the kingdom, he was at least at the level of transitioning from a middle-grade soldier to an upper-grade soldier.

"I heard you were a lowest-grade soldier?"

The soldier, whose appearance looked as though he would repeatedly fail at mating, spat blood from his busted lip and asked.

"That's right. Lowest-grade."

"I heard they give you money and stuff if you get promoted, so why are you staying like that?"

Encrid knew it too. That he wasn't at the level of a lowest-grade soldier.

He wasn't the lowest-grade even when he first stepped into the military.

He just hadn't felt the need to raise his rank.

Because he clearly knew his own skills and limits.

There was no need to deliberately attach the label of a lowest-grade soldier.

Of course, things were a bit different now.

He would get promoted if the opportunity arose.

It was just that he didn't consider it his top priority.

Whether it was the standard that divided third-rate, second-rate, and first-rate mercenaries.

Or the standard that divided the grades of the soldiers here.

Why would that matter?

"You fight well. You."

Encrid was honestly impressed. Yeah, he had to do at least this much.

His skills were better than he had expected.

He was probably the type to fight even better once he entered actual combat.

Only if he got a proper chance to fight, that is.

"What the hell are you doing?"

It was the Recon Squad Leader whose face had turned red and blue watching the two fight. He opened his mouth while glaring. It looked like he would lunge at Encrid at any moment.

Before that, Encrid opened his mouth first.

"It's sparring. It was a perfect warm-up."

At the answer that was not just shameless but unapologetically bold, the Recon Squad Leader tried to spit out some words but stopped.

It was understandable for him to be at a loss for words.

"Just leave it be. It's not like there were any hard feelings."

The tough-looking soldier stopped the Squad Leader.

Encrid shrugged his shoulders.

"Watch your mouth a bit. Troublemaker Squad Leader. You'll end up paying for your tongue one day."

"That's a problem I'll handle myself."

Encrid answered and turned around, returning to his spot.

From the side, Henri sidled up closely and spoke while looking at his swollen cheekbone.

"Didn't you say you were a lowest-grade soldier?"

"I am."

Was that really such a surprising thing for everyone?

Several Recon Squad members around them were also glancing at Encrid.

"You fought way too well for that."

"I trained hard."

It wasn't a lie.

Hadn't he made unceasing efforts through his repeating todays?

Despite this commotion, the Recon Squad Leader stubbornly entered the Tall Grass Fields.

It was obvious he had hidden a honey pot in there. If not that, then he had hidden a lover.

HISS! RUSTLE.

He heard the same sound and realized the enemy forces were approaching again. He faced a new today. This was the start.

"Enemies."

Encrid said through his busted lip and nudged Henri.

"Over there, shoot."

He wanted to see his archery skills. Henri didn't react immediately.

"Pardon?"

It seemed he had frozen stiff at the word 'enemies'.

He didn't see him shoot his bow properly after that either. Just as he said, he must have been faint-hearted; once the battle broke out, he was busy scurrying around in a panic.

Still, seeing him rapid-fire a few shots, it seemed his stance was solid.

'It won't work with me staying as just a squad member.'

The people moving with him needed to react to orders, but he hadn't established that kind of relationship with them.

Encrid pondered about his position.

'I'll set this aside for now as well.'

In the end, he repeated similar events.

Struggling desperately and then dying.

Encrid repeated several more todays.

In the midst of that, he was also able to verify the Squad Leader's skill.

It wasn't bad.

He showed signs of having learned proper swordsmanship somewhere.

"I will accept a challenge anytime."

When he picked a fight a few times during a repeating day, played along appropriately, and let him win, the kid got quite excited.

Encrid familiarized his eyes with the Squad Leader's habits and patterns after facing him a few times.

'He lacks actual combat experience.'

That was probably the reason the tough-looking soldier was sticking so close to him like a nanny.

Then what was the relationship between those two?

When he stealthily asked.

"The son of someone I respected in the past."

The tough-looking soldier spat out the words bluntly.

This guy was a man overflowing with loyalty.

Being in this place was entirely for this brat's sake.

He was a true nanny.

"A noble?"

"Don't you know that fallen nobles aren't treated as nobles?"

The Recon Squad Leader was a fallen noble.

"I see."

Encrid casually brushed past the words they shared afterward and looked at the sun floating above his head.

It was the midday sun.

The wind was appropriately cool.

It was neither hot nor cold.

The reconnaissance soldiers were all dressed in light armor.

It was a given if they were to move swiftly.

Simple armaments and light armor.

That was the basics. He sorted out his allies' armaments, skills, and what they had.

He had to be aware of all other things as well. Encrid put everything he knew in the current situation into his head.

The weather, the wind, the location, the situation, the allies, and the enemies.

If he made all of these move actively, the way out seemed like it would reveal itself.