Chapter 54 - The Turtles and the Frontier Slaughterers (3)

A direction, what purpose or goal one exists for.

SCREECH.

A falcon that had been roaming the green plains flew overhead.

The cry of the falcon brushed past the two of them.

It was a winter day that wasn't too cold. With the unit's wall beside them, Encrid answered the proposal he had received with a question.

Torres hesitated. He thought it over before opening his mouth.

"The soldier grading system is bullshit, but it still clearly established one standard. What is a special-grade soldier?"

His voice was quiet, low, and deep. It seemed like it would suit singing a low-pitched hymn perfectly.

His usual thoughts came out, structured to fit the question. Torres's words were mixed with sincerity and belief.

"It refers to a level that has reached the limits of a human. They say you split your sleeping hours and swing your sword on the battlefield until your hands blister?"

Torres said as he pulled Encrid's hand. Encrid obediently left his hand in his grasp.

Flipping Encrid's palm over, Torres spoke.

"Look."

It was a palm where hard calluses had formed and burst countless times over. The proof of his past efforts, of swinging a sword through countless days, remained on his hand.

"There are many guys who put in this much effort. But people who have the talent to follow it up are rare. Truly rare."

Torres said, giving a small shake of his head. His words were correct. Because he lacked talent, and because he had crawled and crawled on the ground all this time, it was a fact he knew all too well.

"A place where soldiers who combine effort and talent, who have reached the limits of humans, gather! Such a unit is the Border Guard. You want to build your skills? Join our unit. That will fill what you lack."

He asked about their direction, but was told they would fill his shortcomings.

Encrid got his answer right there.

Looking into his eyes full of passion, aspiration, and belief, Encrid opened his mouth.

"I am sorry."

It was a rejection.

It could have been an unparalleled opportunity.

A truly unparalleled opportunity on the path to a dream that had been torn apart but not forgotten—no, that could not be forgotten.

But Encrid could not go.

The Border Guard could serve as stairs leading to a higher place, but the end of those stairs could not be the world he wished for.

'Stopping at the limit isn't an option.'

Reaching the limit alone was not enough.

The Frontier Slaughterers, a group with the most outstanding killing ability even among the units stationed within the Border Guard.

But hadn't the member of the guard standing in front of him, currently glaring with wide eyes, said it with his own mouth?

That the Border Guard was made up of those who had reached human limits.

Encrid's dream was higher than that.

Of course, for someone who hadn't reached the limit to claim they would surpass it was nothing but an arrogant thought.

Even so, he couldn't set off while expecting to stop halfway before even arriving at his destination.

Encrid shook his head.

"You should know the characteristics of our unit, right?"

It turns general soldiers into excellent killing weapons in a short period of time.

He knew. There was no such thing as half-assed training. It was a group that trained soldiers to a much higher level than regular troops.

However, the method was the only problem.

In truth, there was one question implied in Encrid's inquiry.

Were there any among the Border Guard who had become knights?

There were none.

They learned and mastered the most convenient and efficient method of murder.

They weren't given the nickname Frontier Slaughterers for nothing.

Comparing it to swordsmanship, it was a style that prioritized only shortcuts and irregular techniques rather than fundamentals.

One could not become a knight using only shortcuts and irregular techniques.

Because he knew that, it was a path he could not take.

"You're an idiot."

But in the eyes of others, it was bound to look like this.

Torres relaxed the intensity in his eyes.

"I hear that a lot."

"Hah, I never dreamed I'd be rejected by a man instead of a woman. Can I ask the reason?"

Should I say it? Will I just earn mockery again?

Whenever he brought up his dream, it seemed he had heard practically nothing but mockery so far.

Ah, was that not true?

'Krang was serious about it.'

Other than him, there was no one. Rem had been thrilled to have an excuse to make fun of him.

The rest didn't seem to have a very good reaction either.

In particular, a few instructors had shown him exactly what it looked like to gaze at a crazy person.

"I want to go to a place higher than the Border Guard."

Even so, Encrid spoke straightforwardly. He had nothing to hide, nothing to conceal.

"Higher?"

"I want a red cape."

It didn't necessarily have to be a red cape. But it was a fitting analogy.

Since there was only one knight order in Naurilia.

They were the royal guards draped in capes red as blood, and the symbol of Naurilia's military might.

They were also the only unit permitted to use the king's crest.

Upon their capes, the kingdom's symbol—a crest of three crossed swords—was vividly engraved.

Three swords with intersecting blades, and a mythical divine beast with a round head and a fiery mane, the sun beast.

These two things were the symbols of Naurilia.

It meant he wanted to become a knight. Torres understood completely.

That was why he was bewildered.

"... That's a bit much."

Torres had gotten a glimpse of Encrid's skills. They were outstanding.

For someone who had awakened to his talent at thirty, he was on the outstanding side.

But it stopped exactly there.

In truth, it was a skill level that was barely borderline for the Border Guard to accept.

Perhaps if it were Encrid's squadmates, whom he had encountered in the barracks earlier.

'They're a no-go.'

They were out of the question for a different reason.

They were all people with a lot of problems. No matter how much trouble they caused, they had to listen to orders to be soldiers.

In that regard, they were below standard.

If the blade I held ended up wounding me as well, it couldn't be called a good weapon.

That was an item meant to be thrown away.

"You're serious?"

"Of course."

He had been cleanly rejected. Torres nodded his head. He didn't want to say things that would crush the other's hopes.

Still, he had to say this much.

"You're going to regret it."

"I might."

Encrid answered with sincerity.

Not every choice was always the right answer, so he might end up regretting it.

The Border Guard Platoon Commander, Torres, spun around and walked away without even receiving a military salute.

He looked like he was sulking, but rather, his shoulders seemed light.

Watching Torres walk away, Encrid turned around.

While trudging back to the barracks, Encrid recalled the conversation he'd had with Ragna.

"Are you talking about the member of the Red Cape Knight Order? And you're wondering how they moved like that?"

The shock he had received upon seeing the member of the Red Cape Knight Order was not small.

What is a knight?

How could they move like that?

It would be a lie to say he didn't have questions.

Furthermore, the member was only a proto knight, wasn't he?

"It's a bit too early for you to know."

Ragna said so, and Encrid silently waited for his next words. As he expected, Ragna continued to speak.

"A knight is an existence that doesn't just utilize physical strength. A very special power dwells within their bodies. Dealing with that power is not something we should discuss right now. Knowing about it would only get in the way."

"Just tell me the direction. I want to know if I'm taking the wrong path or not."

It might be an unreasonable request. But as Encrid's skills improved, he was realizing anew that his squadmates were all far from ordinary.

Among them, he had learned the fundamentals of swordsmanship from Ragna, and he had noticed while learning.

If he had to pick the person closest to being a knight within the squad, it would be Ragna.

"Fundamentals are a feast of simple and ignorant techniques. You should know if you've fought, but would it be faster to build your skills based on that mercenary sword style the Squad Commander learned? Or would it be faster to build your skills by training your fundamentals?"

Why are shortcuts called shortcuts?

Why are irregular techniques irregular?

If it was simply a matter of fighting well, the Valen Mercenary Sword Technique was several times better than learning the fundamentals of the Heavy Sword Technique.

"To advance further, you need the proper path. You must walk the right path. I believe that should be your answer."

It was an answer that was more than enough.

A swordsmanship that advances through the fundamentals.

Walking the right path by overcoming the countless walls blocking the way forward through it.

That was what he had to do now.

Encrid came to that conclusion.

GROWL.

As he entered the barracks, this time, a beast's sound greeted him. The barracks was a mess.

A bed pushed to one side, an overturned table, and in the middle of it all, Big-eyes was making a crying face with a scratched cheek.

"Ow, why the face of all places."

"It's quick."

"Panther meat tastes bad, but meat is meat."

Behind Big-eyes, Ragna added a word, and Rem chimed in with another.

The beast was a black panther. The young panther with blue eyes, the one that was like a comrade he had fought alongside the other day.

It had disappeared suddenly, so he thought he wouldn't see it again.

It seemed to have somehow made its way in here.

The panther bristled its fur and glared at Ragna and Rem, but when Encrid came in, it spun around with a swoosh and snuggled right into Encrid's arms.

Rem asked, scratching his head with the thumb of the hand holding his axe.

If it had been just a little later, that axe might have cleanly chopped off the panther's neck.

"Was it the Squad Leader's pet?"

"Hmm, was that the case?"

Ragna, the man who had been endlessly serious and heavy when talking about knights, had returned to his usual lazy self.

He put away the sword he had been holding by the scabbard and threw himself onto the bed pushed to one side.

Seeing that, Rem also lowered his axe.

"Was it yours, Squad Leader? That guy is quite fierce."

Big-eyes slyly stole a glance at the panther and asked.

"Did you get scratched?"

"I was just trying to pet its head."

As Big-eyes spoke while examining his wound with his hand, Rem snickered from the side and said.

"He was trying to stick his hand in to check if it was a female or male, and ended up like that."

HISS!

The clever panther poked its head out and bared its fangs, as if it had understood the words.

Seeing that, Big-eyes was startled and tried to back away, but stepped on a scattered leather canteen and slipped and fell.

Rem burst into laughter seeing Big-eyes fall hard on his ass with a thud.

"Are you alright? What about your face?"

Encrid also chuckled and asked.

He was the guy who usually babbled that his face was a blessing of the Naurilia Kingdom.

"Ah, it's fine. I should get some divine healing or apply ointment so it doesn't leave a scar."

Divine healing for a wound like that.

It was something you couldn't do unless you had crona rotting away.

"Uh, right."

He gave a rough answer and looked at the panther held in his arms.

The guy that had been baring its fangs had at some point quietly raised its head.

He had thought it wasn't that light or small, but now that he actually held it in his arms, it felt light and small.

"Did you come to play?"

Encrid asked. The panther understood his words.

It blinked and let out a small purring sound, then rubbed its head against Encrid's chest.

The feel of its fur, finer than silk, was quite nice.

Watching Encrid stroke the panther's head with his hand, Rem said.

"Are you going to raise it? You won't be bored."

Rem was surprisingly tolerant of animals. Ragna and Jaxon had no interest.

The religious squadmate who had finished his shift and returned at some point, Audin, also had absolutely no interest.

Only Big-eyes, Krais, still had immense interest.

"That thing is a female."

"Huh?"

"Do you think it would've just ended with me getting my face scratched?"

Big-eyes crossed his arms and spoke triumphantly.

Is that so? How very impressive.

"Yeah."

Encrid replied and roughly tidied up the surroundings, while Rem stood the overturned table upright, sat on the edge of it, and asked.

"Since you became an upper-grade soldier, it seems like people are making a fuss looking for you all over the place. How about it? The Border Guard doesn't seem bad."

Encrid occasionally wanted to look inside the mind of that sly man.

Just when he thought the guy only goofed around all day, he would pierce right to the core like that.

"I'm not going."

Encrid stated the conclusion first.

He didn't want things getting unnecessarily loud because of this.

"Why?"

It was Jaxon. His words were short.

"...sir."

He belatedly added an honorific.

"Just because."

What was there to talk about in detail? He tried to gloss over it like that, but Rem raised an objection.

"Are you serious? No matter how idiotic the soldier grading system is, starting from upper-grade, it surpasses a decent level. Under those circumstances, you rejected the kingdom's direct military?"

"He probably did it because he had a good reason to."

Ragna interjected, likely having guessed the situation from their previous conversation, but that worsened the situation.

"... Fucking hell, is that bastard acting like he knows right now? Looks like he knows something, doesn't he?"

"Why?"

Jaxon asked again.

This time, the honorific did not follow belatedly.

His gaze was truly insubordinate.

"Lord, bestow wisdom upon those ignorant fools."

When Audin poured oil on the fire from the side, the atmosphere blazed up.

It was an atmosphere that simply couldn't be glossed over.

If left alone, a meaningless sword fight would break out. Through his experiences so far, Encrid knew this kind of situation all too well.

Squad members throwing a temper tantrum always look for a solution through a display of force.

"Because the Border Guard is finished once you reach human limits. It's a unit meant for that."

"Is that a problem?"

There was no need for it to be heartbreaking that that was a problem anew.

When they were having a conversation with Ragna about the path to becoming a knight, Ragna had added these words at the end.

"If you have innate talent, a heaven-sent prodigy—that is, a genius—in truth, you don't need to practice the fundamentals and learn them as if carving them into your body. Because it will happen naturally."

Being a knight was a game for geniuses.

Those born with talent in martial arts; they sift and sort through them to find just another handful of people.

Among those born with talent, they search again for the geniuses born with talent.

Only such people could become knights.

Then was he not even allowed to dream?

Was he not even allowed to hope?

Even if it was torn and torn until not even a trace remained.

If he hadn't thrown it away, that dream was bound to still remain in his heart.

That was why Encrid dreamed.

"It is a problem. My goal is higher up."

Everyone stared at him blankly. Encrid's mouth opened.

So normally and casually.

With the same tone and voice as when saying that thoroughly boiled mutton would be served for breakfast tomorrow.

"I am going to be a knight."

In the past, it had been the subject of mockery.

In truth, Encrid's dream had always been the subject of mockery.

That was why this kind of reaction was awkward.

"You'll have to overcome the wall quite a few times, but well, if you want to do it, you do it."

Rem spoke first.

Ragna showed the burning gaze he occasionally displayed.

Jaxon asked back, 'Is that so?'

Big-eyes went 'Wow' and couldn't close his open mouth.

Audin clasped his hands together and prayed.

"Even if dreams and hopes seem vain and unseen, please bestow grace upon the effort of holding onto them without casting them aside."

There was no need to be moved by the prayer.

In truth, even if they had mocked him, nothing would have changed.

Encrid was that kind of person.

What was more important than the mockery or contempt of others was the dream he harbored.

Upper-grade soldier.

It was a rank properly recognized in the soldier grading system.

In truth, it was only the beginning now.

Both building his skills and making a name for himself to become a knight.

PURR.

The panther let out a cry and lightly tapped Encrid's cheek.

That felt almost like a cheer.

"It's clever."

Rem chuckled loudly seeing that.

No matter how much he said he didn't care, Encrid's heart tingled.

Because it was the first time he had received cheers instead of mockery.

'There's a lot of firsts lately.'

No matter what anyone said, it was a joyful moment.

* * *

Encrid spent his time training as usual for two days.

On the third day, he set out for market patrol duty.

STAB.

And he was stabbed in the stomach with a dagger. It was a fatal wound. It felt as if a red-hot iron skewer was jabbing into his stomach and shredding his internal organs.

"God damn it."

Encrid spat out a laugh in sheer absurdity, trailing blood from his mouth.

It was a truly unexpected blow.

AHHH!

In the middle of the market, the scream of a passing waitress rang out. The dying Encrid closed his eyes, with the sound of that scream being the last thing he heard.