Chapter 30 - When Is the Moment You Make a Friend of the Darkness?

If this were a question, the answer was simple.

A place you knew well.

A place where you grasped the terrain as clearly as your own front yard.

It would be even better if it were a place you had lived in until recently.

Because you could figure out the rough location just by catching a vague glimpse of your surroundings.

It would be even better if it was an incredibly familiar place, for example, a spot you had used as a night training ground right up until yesterday.

The place Encrid had reached just now was exactly like that.

Normally, it should have been an unfamiliar place.

"This is..."

Normally, he should have looked at this and been surprised.

"Damn it."

Normally, he should have fallen into despair the moment the scale of the enemy caught his eye.

But none of that applied to Encrid.

Because he had already been here several times.

He hadn't just come here, either.

He had rolled and rolled again.

He had fought and fought again.

Each time, the personnel who came with him changed slightly.

Still, the basic composition was similar.

Andrew, the tough-looking soldier, Henri, and the other squad members.

Among them, the two ex-thug squad members had even been a great help at times.

The place they emerged after backtracking out of the Tall Grass Fields.

An unexpected scene unfolded before them.

Some of the squad members thought that since the retreat path to the main unit was blocked, this direction had conversely become their way out.

To be precise, that was what Henri thought.

He had just as good a sense of direction as the tough-looking soldier.

His stint as a plains hunter wasn't for nothing, after all.

Henri thought that since the enemies were ambushing them inside the grass, this side might actually be empty.

His prediction was wrong.

That made it even more despairing.

Henri felt his legs give out.

FLARE.

The first thing he saw was a burning torch stand.

And then he saw a wide, thick cloth half-blocking that light.

The moment he saw it, Henri took a step back.

As he raised his head and widened his field of vision, the shape of the structure that caught his eye revealed itself.

It was a tent.

Why was a tent appearing here?

Turning his head to the side while relying on the dim light, he saw a burning torch stand next to the tent.

Row upon row of torch stands, stretching far into the distance.

Even at a rough count, there were over ten of them.

The gaps between the torch stands were wide enough that the surroundings were barely visible.

As the moonlight intertwined with the light of the torches, their field of vision opened up further.

What appeared in their eyes were tents.

At least twenty tents stretched continuously along the side of the Tall Grass Fields.

This direction was the opposite side relative to their allied encampment.

Meaning, the tents before their eyes belonged to the encampment of the enemy forces, the Principality of Aspen.

"Fuck, what is this?"

The ex-thug soldier muttered, instinctively keeping his voice down.

"Hah, to think the place we managed to reach is..."

Henri opened his mouth in a dejected voice.

"Shh, quiet."

At this moment, the tough-looking soldier reacted the fastest.

If they were discovered by the sentries right now, a battle would erupt.

And if that happened, they would be slaughtered in an instant.

In everyone's eyes, besides the light from the torch stands, a few moving lights could be seen far off.

No one had to tell them to know those were torches held by sentries.

"Shut your traps."

The tough-looking soldier said as he looked around.

If things went wrong, they would die. In a moment of crisis, a veteran's experience was bound to shine.

He acted based on his experience.

He lowered his posture and tried to sense the presence of the sentries.

Hide as much as possible, grasp the situation, and then find a hole to escape through. If they were lucky, it might be possible.

It was night right now, and though it hadn't been his intention, they had moved in a direction far removed from the enemy's expectations anyway.

They had entered so deep into the middle of the enemy camp that they could touch an enemy tent just by reaching out, but even so, as long as they weren't caught, there was a chance to escape.

He made his judgment like that.

That as long as they kept their wits about them, they could survive even if they were dropped in the middle of a herd of monsters.

"Don't draw your blades and stay low."

He acted as if he were the leader.

Most of the squad members moved according to his words.

Excluding only two.

Naturally, one was Encrid, and the other was Andrew.

"He must have a plan. The Squad Leader is Encrid."

Perhaps a beating was the best medicine.

The guy who had been beaten to a pulp this morning and had his Squad Leader position taken away was the only one taking Encrid's side.

"This isn't the time to joke around."

The tough-looking soldier turned his head back while hunched over.

His voice was quiet, but it contained a momentum akin to a beast growling.

He was in a hurry.

This place was the middle of the enemy camp.

It was a situation several times more dangerous than facing an ambushing enemy in the Tall Grass Fields.

It was a moment where they couldn't say a word even if an enemy spearhead suddenly thrust out from beyond this tent right now.

What use were plans in a situation like this?

The tough-looking soldier's reaction was reasonable.

Because in reality, Encrid had looked at this soldier and thought the exact same thing several times.

'He's no ordinary guy.'

His skills, his experience, his judgment, and his ability to act.

None of them were at the level of a mediocre soldier.

If he hadn't been here, if he hadn't repeated today.

It would have been right to make this man the Squad Leader and struggle desperately.

But right now, there was no need for that.

The other squad members didn't know, but the path they took to get here was entirely according to Encrid's intentions.

The time, the location, the place—everything.

How many nights had he already spent here?

How many lives had he thrown away?

How many todays had he repeated?

In the tent right in front of their eyes, three sluggish soldiers were dead asleep.

And they still had some time to spare before they would encounter the sentries patrolling the camp.

Knowing all of that, Encrid took action.

RIP.

He drew his sword and tore through the wall of the tent.

The blade reflected the moonlight from the bottom up.

"You crazy bastard."

The tough-looking soldier freaked out.

And at this point, Andrew reacted to Encrid's actions.

He rushed straight into the torn tent and drove the tip of his short sword into the neck of an enemy soldier who had woken up in surprise.

STAB!

Following right behind him, Encrid also leapt inside.

When he thrust his blade at the neck of a guy trying to get up, the man who had woken from his sleep gasped in surprise and tried to grab the blade with his hands.

Encrid forced the blade down with his strength and slit his throat.

SLASH.

A sound like tearing leather rang out, and soon the smell of blood filled the inside of the tent.

The final enemy soldier had a dagger driven into his heart by the ex-thug squad member.

"Gurgle, gurk."

The guy who was stabbed in the heart crawled on the floor, reaching out his hand.

He was a tenacious bastard with a strong hold on life.

The light shining in from the tent's entrance illuminated the reaching enemy soldier's head.

And a black shadow formed above him.

It was the tough-looking soldier.

He pinned the enemy soldier's back with his knee, grabbed his neck with his hands, and twisted.

CRACK.

The enemy soldier, his neck snapped, stuck his tongue out and died.

"Hey, you."

In the darkness, the tough-looking soldier's eyes flashed fiercely.

He glared at Encrid.

It was only a relief because they were lucky; otherwise, they would have ended up surrounded and annihilated right in the middle of the enemy camp.

This was nothing short of a gamble.

That was how it looked to him.

"We're moving to the side."

Encrid ignored that gaze.

He extended his sword before the man could say anything.

"Hey, you crazy bastard."

The tough-looking soldier said, lowering his voice.

A deep annoyance and anger could be felt.

Because to him, it was an endlessly insane act.

Encrid merely turned his head back as he slashed and tore the side of the tent with his sword.

He looked like someone who wasn't the least bit worried about what the guy behind him might do.

Even when the man was projecting killing intent like this?

Even though they had charged into enemy territory with nothing but a patrol-sized force, a bloody atmosphere sparked between the two like lightning, causing everyone to nervously gauge their reactions.

"What's your name?"

"What?"

"Your name."

Was it because of Encrid's nonchalant attitude?

Was it because of his boldness in not reacting to the killing intent?

The tough-looking soldier meekly opened his mouth at Encrid's question as he gripped his sword and dragged it downwards.

"Call me Mac."

Even as he spoke, he didn't retract his killing intent. Withdrawing his gaze from the soldier, Encrid said.

"Mac, I won't accept insubordination."

"What?"

RIIIP.

Encrid finished tearing the tent wall and stepped out.

The remaining men only had one option.

To follow right behind him.

"Hoo, seriously, what the hell is going on?"

Mac muttered as if talking to himself, and his eyes met Andrew's.

"Yes, I'm going."

Mac replied to that gaze.

For now, it seemed he had no choice but to follow.

The barracks next to it were empty.

It seemed as if all the soldiers in the barracks had gone out for night guard duty or something.

'Does that make any sense?'

The tent was big enough to accommodate at least ten people, at the very minimum.

It was at least squad-sized.

If they squeezed a bit, a force of two squads could probably stay in it.

In fact, looking at the traces inside the tent, there were signs of more than ten people.

"Forward."

After passing through that tent, the troublemaker Squad Leader didn't even tear the tent wall at all.

He poked his head out the tent entrance, looked left and right, and darted forward.

The squad members followed behind him.

Before they knew it, clouds had gathered and obscured the moonlight.

Then, it became difficult to see the surroundings using only the light of the torch stands.

Even though they blinked repeatedly to adjust to the night, it remained pitch black.

Encrid advanced through such a place without hesitation.

Besides the breathing of the squad members following behind him, no other sounds could be heard.

"This way."

A voice rang out in the darkness. It wasn't a particularly quiet voice either.

It was a noise loud enough to be heard if there were any enemy troops nearby.

Mac felt goosebumps rise on his back.

'This bastard really.'

And yet, there were no presences. There were no undetected enemy movements, either.

If they had been discovered, they would have heard someone shouting "Who's there?" right away.

Encrid moved again.

Now, even Mac had a hard time distinguishing the direction.

In the Tall Grass Fields, the sun had been blazing right above their heads, so there was no problem figuring out their direction, but right now, it was dark everywhere.

'Does he know where he's going?'

It seemed so. Because there was no hesitation whatsoever in Encrid's steps.

He moved, and only stopped when he laid eyes on a tent with two torch stands positioned far off.

Using a suitable tree standing in front of them as cover, Encrid gestured backward.

His gesture was barely visible to their eyes, which had adjusted to the dark.

Mac felt as if he were possessed by a ghost.

'How far have we walked?'

He didn't know exactly. But when estimating the size of the encampment based on the number of tents.

'I think we've pierced right through it?'

It felt like they had walked far enough to pierce straight through the enemy camp.

And yet no one knew? Why weren't they getting caught?

With things like this, it was only natural to feel like he was possessed by a ghost.

"Stand by here."

Encrid turned around and said.

It was a whispering voice.

Glancing at the tent he had mentioned, there were four soldiers guarding it.

Even though it was night, the enemy camp was strangely quiet, but that particular tent seemed busy.

WHOOSH.

As the wind blew and the light of the torch stands flickered, the shadows of the soldiers moved this way and that.

Then, he saw someone come out from inside the tent and say something.

Because of the distance, the voice couldn't be heard properly, but he could see the soldier who heard it nod his head.

'What are they guarding?'

Then did the troublemaker Squad Leader come here aiming for that?

Only then did Mac understand the situation. No, he guessed at it. A single thought suddenly brushed past his mind and took root.

'It was a secret mission.'

A mission given entirely to the troublemaker Squad Leader, excluding himself and the other squad members.

He must have earned the commander's trust to that extent.

Mac recalled what Andrew had said.

He had said the troublemaker Squad Leader had joined on the Company Commander's orders.

Now everything fell into place.

Encrid, their Squad Leader, was carrying out a secret mission.

'Is that what it was?'

It was a misunderstanding.

Mac had a small realization, but he didn't spit it out in words.

And even if Encrid knew such a misunderstanding had occurred, he wouldn't have bothered adding any explanations.

Because the task at hand was more urgent.

"We are setting fire to that barracks."

Encrid raised his finger.

It was a barracks guarded by four soldiers at the front alone.