Chapter 34 - Why go that far?

"Is the reconnaissance I know different from the reconnaissance the Squad Leader knows?"

Rem said while twirling the axe in his hand.

"What do you mean?"

"Because it looks like you came back half-dead."

"Just a little scratch on my side, that's all."

"If that's a scratch, do you just drop dead immediately when you get cut?"

Rem said that and snickered.

This bastard hadn't changed a bit.

Then again, it hadn't even been that many days, so why would he have changed?

To Encrid, it had been months, but to them, barely even a week had passed.

"I did almost die."

Encrid said while feeling the wound on his side with his hand.

In reality, he had experienced death countless times, but he couldn't exactly say that out loud.

"Let me take a look."

Jaxon approached and examined the wound on his side. Encrid turned his body and lifted his shirt to make it easier to see.

"Like you'd know anything just by looking?"

Rem grumbled, but Jaxon neatly ignored him and examined Encrid's wound.

"It's nothing serious."

Encrid said.

"The bone isn't damaged, but you'll suffer if you underestimate it as a light wound."

That was true.

"I applied ointment."

"That's a relief."

Jaxon nodded.

"Looks like you had a skirmish while out on reconnaissance?"

Big-eyes said, looking at Encrid's grimy appearance.

His hair was greasy, and his eyes were sunken due to marching on foot without rest after the battle.

Not to mention washing properly, he had lacked food and water throughout the mission, so it was only natural that he looked grimy.

'More than just a skirmish, I completely turned the enemy camp upside down.'

Since there was honestly no need to tell them everything, he just nodded in affirmation.

Coming back to watch Rem and Ragna fight had made him sweat profusely again, leaving his body feeling sluggish.

So right now.

"Do you have anything to eat? Water too."

It was time to eat and rest.

In truth, he wanted to swing his sword right away, but there was a limit to what he could do in his current physical condition.

And considering the enemies gathered in the Tall Grass Fields, it didn't seem like this battle would end like this.

Therefore, since it seemed he would have to head out to the battlefield again, he needed to recover his physical condition.

"Go wash up. I'll prepare a royal feast for you."

Rem said with a smile.

Encrid nodded and headed for a nearby stream.

The infantry camp wasn't placed here for nothing. With a stream flowing in the back, it was easy to get drinking water and wash up.

When he put his hand in the water, a sudden chill rushed up.

'It's getting cold.'

It was indeed the time of year for temperatures to drop.

Encrid roughly rinsed his face, slowly stripped off his clothes, and washed away the blood, grease, sweat, and grime on his body.

'That bastard.'

As he washed, the events he had just experienced naturally filled his mind.

The Tall Grass Fields, the ambush, passing the flagpole, all the way to the last guy holding a sword and torch.

'I feel like we'll meet again.'

It was a premonition that they would face off in an unavoidable situation.

'Is this that wall?'

Didn't the eyeless Boatswain say so?

That walls would endlessly block his path.

He wasn't worried. If it blocked him, he just had to climb over it.

To be honest, he was also secretly looking forward to it.

To the point where it felt truly regrettable that he had returned without settling the match with that bastard.

Of course, the moment they settled it, the one dying would be him, but he still didn't want to avoid it.

He wanted to clash with him once.

The moment he saw that bastard, a strange competitive spirit had flared up within him.

Sometimes, you were bound to meet someone like that.

It was similar to falling in love at first sight, but rather the complete opposite—an opponent you wanted to fight and defeat.

After cleaning himself up and returning, there was warm soup, bread, and even perfectly grilled meat skewers from god knows where.

You couldn't exactly call this a royal feast, but it was certainly a rare grand meal for the battlefield.

"Rabbit?"

At Encrid's question, Rem cleared his throat and stepped forward to speak.

"I prepared it myself."

"No, it wasn't Rem, I was the one who got it."

Big-eyes glared sideways as he said that.

"Right. Thanks."

Encrid devoured the food in a flash right where he sat.

"I think this every time I see it, but you really eat well, Squad Leader."

"You have to eat well to have strength."

"You are the most peculiar human I've ever seen, Squad Leader."

He had just been watching from the side while he ate, and now Rem crossed his arms and spouted nonsense.

This was the troublemaker squad, and to hear that he was a peculiar human from the guy whose hobby was assaulting allies...

"You're the last person I want to hear that from."

At those words, Rem snickered again.

After that, the squad members scattered their separate ways.

Jaxon left saying he had business, and Krais went out claiming it was time for business.

The religious freak squad member started praying on one side, and Rem killed time outside the barracks with a snicker.

He was probably tossing useless jokes at other passing soldiers.

And Ragna stared blankly at Encrid. He kept feeling his gaze.

"What?"

Bothered by the stare, Encrid turned his head and asked.

"I was just looking."

Ragna answered while lying half-slanted on the ground.

When Encrid tilted his head, Ragna turned his body away, saying it was nothing.

He looked like he had something to say, but Encrid didn't press further.

He knew from his experience leading the troublemaker squad up to now. Even if he asked right now, no answer would come out.

In these cases, if he waited, they would eventually bring it up again later.

If they didn't bring it up, well, he would just let it go.

Since he had just returned from a mission, he was exempt from both night watch and meal duties.

Encrid ate well and slept deeply.

Jaxon's ointment was highly effective. The wound on his side quickly healed.

At this rate, resting for just two days seemed like it would be enough.

Just because Encrid was lying down and resting didn't mean he was idling his time away.

'Even though it feels like I'd lose ten times out of ten.'

Encrid continuously swung his sword in his mind while remaining seated.

His first opponent was Rem, the next was Ragna, and after that was the enemy he met in hostile territory.

He pondered and pondered again.

The old swordsman who taught him the sword in a quiet coastal city had told him.

"If you don't want to die to a blind blade, you have two methods. One is to beg and pray to the Goddess of Luck until your hands wear down."

One was to leave it to luck.

"The second is to think and think again, countless times."

Didn't he say that if you fought risking half your life and survived, that fight would become an asset?

It was a phrase the old swordsman from the coastal city often used.

Then what must one do to risk half a life and survive?

Ponder. Think. Agonize.

He told him to endlessly think of a method.

If he faced an enemy without a single thought, he would have to rely entirely on the first method then.

If he didn't want that to happen, he had to constantly deliberate in his daily life.

'He was a decent teacher.'

It was the perfect advice for the Encrid of that time.

And that advice was still shining brightly now.

Encrid pondered and thought.

What must he do to win?

What must he do to at least not lose?

His desperate struggle to find that method was the Valen Mercenary Sword Technique.

That swordsmanship, which some called a crude trick, was also the core technique Encrid possessed.

Feints, a three-sword style incorporating Headbutts, drawing techniques meant to throw daggers or stones, and so on.

In reality, they were absurd and anti-climactic techniques once you fell for them, but they worked well against opponents facing them for the first time or those with clumsy skills.

The Encrid in his mind swung his sword.

He took a stabbing stance and threw a stone.

He pretended to draw his sword and threw a throwing knife.

Rem swung his axe and deflected it all, and Ragna moved his feet and dodged it all.

And the opponent holding the sword and torch ignored the flying stone, charged forward, and thrusted his sword, splitting his heart.

In reality, they might not move as he imagined, but at least in Encrid's mental imagery, they moved like that.

'Again.'

Endlessly pondering. Encrid spent a whole day like that and fell asleep.

When he went to sleep, he passed out the moment his head hit the bed.

It was right after finishing a grueling mission. His fatigue had piled up.

When the next morning came, Krais brought the morning rations. It was watery soup, dry jerky packed with salt, and crumbly bread.

"Are you on duty today?"

"Yeah, you were sleeping really soundly, weren't you?"

"Because I was tired."

Krais rolled his big eyes around and asked.

"So what happened out there? Tell me."

Krais, Big-eyes, was the informant of the battlefield.

Encrid was about to speak but fell into thought for a moment.

Then, he decided there was no real need to hide it.

It would become known quickly anyway, and no one had explicitly called it classified.

Even so, he couldn't tell him in too much detail, so he just left it at saying that enemies were ambushing in the Tall Grass Fields.

Trying to explain in detail would only leave him struggling for answers.

"Damn it all. If they even set up an ambush, it means they don't plan on letting this go, but is there any point in ambushing there?"

Despite not knowing the first thing about strategy, Big-eyes occasionally hit the nail on the head.

'There isn't.'

In truth, if the Recon Squad's route hadn't been set there, they would have passed by without ever getting caught.

If he didn't have the knack for repeating today, it would have ended with nothing more than the annihilation of the Recon Squad.

An ambush is a tactic to prepare for an attack.

However, the allied forces were not advancing toward the Tall Grass Fields.

Naturally, it was meaningless.

That was exactly what Big-eyes had pointed out.

"We don't know yet."

They didn't know. That was the correct answer.

He just assumed the higher-ups were scheming something.

However, it was certain that there was something.

That flagpole, and even the guy guarding it.

Just looking at the troop deployment, one could fully feel their intent to obliterate any approaching enemies.

Normally, troops weren't operated to that extent. Therefore, the conclusion was that the enemy had prepared something.

"Tsk, and here I thought it would end like this this time."

"Orders will probably come down today or tomorrow."

Not long after their idle talk ended, someone was heard shouting outside.

"We're moving. Fourth Company is moving!"

It was the Fourth Platoon Commander's voice.

"You didn't injure your legs, did you?"

The man who had been shouting outside poked his head into Encrid's tent.

"I heard you went through a hell of an ordeal?"

"Where did you hear that from?"

"The rumors are everywhere. Saying you're some hidden child of the Goddess of Luck."

He had claimed the whole incident was all luck, so in a way, it was a natural reaction.

"Then who's my dad?"

"How the hell should I know?"

At Encrid's joke, the Platoon Commander let out a snicker and replied.

"You must be tired, but the unit is moving out. They say we're heading east from the camp, so let's get moving."

At those words, Encrid dusted himself off and stood up.

East meant the direction of the Tall Grass Fields.

Since they knew about the ambush, they wouldn't actually enter the fields.

"Looks like there's gonna be a fight, the air's changed."

Rem had somehow stuck right next to him and said.

"You think so?"

"Show off just because your skills improved and you'll get yourself killed, so watch out."

Was this him worrying, or cursing him?

It wasn't just the Fourth Company, but the movement of the entire infantry battalion.

Meaning, the vast majority of the infantry forces mobilized for this battle were on the move.

Since the troop size of a single platoon was roughly forty.

It was the movement of roughly six hundred infantrymen.

*TRAMP, TRAMP. * The infantry unit moved with the sound of footsteps.

There was no battle that day.

They moved and set up a makeshift camp once again.

They lit fires and each took their spot.

Unless the commander had an arrowhead lodged in his brain, he wouldn't issue an order to charge into the Tall Grass Fields, so it seemed they were preparing for contingencies by moving the troops near this area.

After spending the day like that, the wound on his side hardly bothered him anymore.

The next day, orders came down for each squad to handle their own meals.

The six squad members gathered and boiled a stew in a single pot.

"I caught a lizard on the way."

Jaxon tossed the drained lizard meat into the stew.

"For once, you're actually doing something commendable."

Seeing that, Rem was extremely delighted.

Of course, Jaxon didn't talk back.

Rem growled, complaining that he was ignoring him again, but Jaxon ignored that as well.

'They seem strangely well-suited for each other.'

One side blabbering and the other side ignoring somehow seemed like a perfect match.

In the army, just moving, eating, and resting was a chore in itself.

And all the while as they moved and ate, Encrid felt a peculiar gaze.

There were eyes staring intently at him.

It was Ragna.

"You're going to wear out my face."

When he said it nonchalantly, Ragna averted his gaze.

"It's nothing."

It was obvious that he had something to say.

The atmosphere turned vicious, as if a battle would break out at any moment, but another day passed.

In his spare time, Encrid tried physically executing the things he had practiced in his mind.

Some things came easier than he thought, and some were difficult.

As he gripped his sword and swung it in a corner from the early morning, Ragna approached and asked.

"Why do you go to such lengths?"

It was a question out of nowhere.

However, Encrid understood perfectly.

It wasn't as if there were only one or two people around him who were bad at expressing themselves.

Ragna wasn't exactly gifted with words either.

He was more the type to speak however he pleased.

So the listener had to pay close attention.

In that regard, Encrid was the right man for the job. He had somewhat understood what Ragna meant, after all.

SCRATCH.

Encrid scratched above his forehead with his finger.