Chapter 57 - After Seeing It, I Wanted One

It was a question thrown out of nowhere.

But Jaxon was not the sort to be flustered by that.

As always, his face was blunt.

Jaxon opened his mouth for a very brief moment, then stopped. He seemed to be thinking it over.

Encrid let his arms hang at his sides and quietly waited for Jaxon to speak.

This was not something that would be solved by rushing him.

The deliberation was brief.

Soon, white breath spilled from Jaxon's mouth and spread into the air.

"The Whistle Dagger was once called a throwing dagger that left only its sound behind."

As he spoke, Jaxon scratched his cheek. For someone who had started to speak and stopped, he continued smoothly.

"A throwing dagger that leaves only its sound behind. That means it's that fast. Fast enough that the human eye can hardly follow it. That is why it is difficult to face. Most people die without even knowing what struck them. That is the kind of weapon the Whistle Dagger is."

"If I absolutely have to face one?"

Was there a way to avoid the assassin?

For now, there probably was not. It did not seem like there was.

The bastard had prepared with meticulous care.

He had used spies planted among allies, and his preparations before and after the kill had been thorough.

At least, that was how it looked in Encrid's eyes right now.

Because he was in a situation where his arms and legs were bound in chains, and he had no choice but to be dragged wherever the other side pulled him.

It was time to find a way through.

"Do you really have to?"

Jaxon tilted his head to the side. To him, it must have sounded like a truly strange thing to say.

"I really do."

Encrid merely emphasized it once more. Jaxon stared steadily into Encrid's eyes.

Encrid did not avoid his gaze either.

Blue eyes and reddish-brown eyes clashed fiercely in the air.

Jaxon seemed to be asking with his eyes.

'Why do you need that?'

Encrid ignored it.

Jaxon of Equivalent Exchange was someone who sold necessary information. He was not someone who asked the other party "why."

Soon, Jaxon's expression hardened, and he said,

"This information will not be cheap."

"The more expensive it is, the better."

He meant it.

After all, it did not seem like this "today" would be the last "today."

If the morning of today dawned again like that, the value of the information Jaxon spoke of now would fall endlessly.

It would become something he already knew, at least to Encrid.

Jaxon's expression stiffened. Somehow, his feelings seemed twisted.

Encrid ignored even that.

Because what was urgent now was not something like Jaxon's mood.

"Before you hear the sound, you have to watch the hand movement. Everything depends on the motion of the hand that throws it."

Jaxon gave him the countermeasure simply.

Do not be fooled by the sound. By the time you hear the sound, it is already too late. Keep the opponent's movement in your eyes.

"You must not lose sight of the opponent for even an instant. Especially if the opponent is a first-rate assassin, they will know how to throw it without being seen."

The Whistle Dagger's greatest characteristic was that it had a blade as thin as a sheet of paper.

The key was to grind and grind the blade until it could lodge itself even into a breastplate made of decent steel.

If the thrower's skill was excellent, it could actually pierce a steel plate.

He added that, depending on one's skill, they sometimes used several thin blades stacked together.

Jaxon broadly divided the methods of throwing a throwing dagger into two.

The method of swinging the hand widely to increase power and throw it.

The other was a method of not showing the throw.

"You've seen me throw daggers before, right?"

Encrid asked. Dagger throwing was a technique he had once been absorbed in training.

"Yes. It was at the level of throwing stones."

With one sentence, Jaxon dismissed Encrid's skill.

He meant that Encrid would be better off throwing stones instead of daggers.

It also meant that stones would at least deliver impact, so why play around with daggers he could not even land properly?

'Harsh.'

No matter how indifferent Encrid was about this sort of thing, Jaxon's words were sharp enough to pierce through that indifference.

It was not as if he felt a dagger had flown into his heart and lodged there.

But it did feel as though one had lodged somewhere in at least his upper arm.

"Then teach me a little. How to throw properly."

Encrid spat the words out, feeling somewhat sullen.

"Then learn it. I will add this to the list of trades as well."

"Hm?"

"Do you dislike it?"

He did not dislike it. There was no end to learning, and to Encrid, who was possessed by the desire called learning, the offer just now was like an oasis in the desert.

Because he was always thirsty, Encrid immediately nodded.

"No, I like it."

"From how to grip it."

Because it was almost time to go out on patrol duty, the lesson was brief.

At most, half an hour.

In that short time, Encrid was able to see Jaxon in a new light.

"If practice does not accompany it, it will be meaningless."

How to grip and throw a thin blade, how to grip and throw a hand axe, how to throw a heavy dagger.

The grip was different for all of them, and the throw was different for all of them.

There was also an abundance to learn here.

As Encrid turned around to go back out on patrol duty, Jaxon spoke.

His voice was quiet, but firm.

"Do not deliberately create a situation where you must face one. That comes first."

He had treated him with a subtly sulky attitude the whole time, yet in the end, he finished with concern.

Encrid suddenly wondered what he had given these people.

'They treat me well for no reason.'

It was not as if they were a man and woman, and he had never thought he shared a deep friendship with them.

But when he saw the attitudes of squad members like Jaxon, Rem, and Ragna, it was as if they were caring for him like a child left by the water's edge.

'No, maybe not.'

When he was actually assigned to battlefields, fights, or other missions, they did not always insist on following him, so he probably was not a child left by the water's edge.

It was a pointless thought.

"I won't."

In truth, he had not the slightest intention of doing that. Because it was not something he could avoid just because he wanted to.

"Was your duty patrol, Squad Leader? I heard you became an upper-grade soldier? Ah, fuck, congratulations."

It was Jack. Of course, Bo was with him too.

"Let's go."

Once again, he immersed himself in the waves of today. Cold air that could freeze him down to the bone swept over him, but he had put on one more layer of clothing than yesterday, so it was almost no different from wearing cloth armor.

His clothes were thick, and the exercises he had learned from Audin also helped warm his body.

The cold seemed to have eased considerably.

"Fuck, I can't give it to you for that price!"

In the same market of today as always.

Encrid used a certain merchant's shout as his marker.

It was right around then.

When the leather merchant's shout, mixed with a roar, rang out, the Half Fairy covered in rags would appear.

At the same time, Jack and Bo came in close on his left and right.

Encrid had no intention of letting any today end in vain.

Naturally, he had a plan today as well.

*THUD. * He hooked Jack's foot with his left foot.

"Huh."

On Encrid's left, Jack fell forward. The moment he tripped Jack, Encrid drew the sword at his right waist. It was a dagger called a guard sword.

It was that sort of weapon, with a broad and thick blade that could be used as a substitute for a shield.

SHING, SLASH.

"... Crazy!"

Bo shouted in surprise beside him. It was understandable.

Because the blade of the broad dagger Encrid had drawn cut straight through the nape of Jack's neck.

"Grk."

It was not even something one could call a death cry. With his throat cut, Jack planted his nose into the ground and flailed while clutching his neck.

Blood flowed onto the ground.

Those who saw the fallen Jack screamed.

"Aaaah!"

"Whoa!"

The group of nearby merchants retreated in an instant. No one would want to get struck by a random blade and die.

In the midst of that, Bo flinched. Encrid did not allow Bo to move. In his hand, the broad blade moved again.

It was a strike aimed at the collarbone from above to below.

CLANG!

"You bastard!"

Bo also drew a dagger and blocked it. It was a thin-bladed weapon meant solely for stabbing.

If things went wrong, he likely intended to stab Encrid in the side with that.

As Encrid pressed down on the blocked blade and pushed it away, Bo retreated backward.

Just like that, Encrid bought time, blocked the area around his heart with the broad blade, and turned his body.

It had happened over the span of barely two or three breaths.

If he had not prepared, it would have been enough time for him to panic and freeze.

'Up to here.'

It had gone according to plan.

Encrid's gaze reached the assassin.

The bastard pushed back the rag covering his head.

A face that gave off a strange unpleasantness came into view. Encrid could see curiosity and interest rising in the bastard's eyes.

Then it began again.

'Not the sound. The hand.'

He closed his ears and focused all his nerves on his eyes. Based on the information entering through his vision, he predicted the next movement.

It was the countermeasure Jaxon had taught him.

THUNK!

Encrid had assumed the opponent would naturally aim for his heart. Or if not, his head.

Because his concentration shone, the ray of light looked like a blade.

However, he could not see where that blade would arrive.

That was why he covered his heart and turned his head.

But the Whistle Dagger the opponent threw hit his right forearm.

Along with a burning pain, his forearm muscles tore, and strength would not enter his fingers.

It was a fatal wound that had damaged his nerves, one he could not even dare to recover from without divine healing.

"Ha."

A hollow laugh escaped him.

It was a strike he had never expected. When he covered his heart, the bastard targeted his hand. Instead of piercing the shield he had raised, he dealt with the one holding the shield. It was a different perspective.

'He isn't some half-baked assassin.'

A fact he had already realized engraved itself into his mind again.

WHISTLE.

The second whistle rang out, and the throwing dagger lodged in his heart.

Did this bastard have some kind of grudge against Frogs?

It seemed he was not satisfied unless he stuck a throwing dagger into the heart.

"Cough."

Half of what he coughed up was blood. Blood surged out of him in a gush. As he knelt on both knees and supported himself with only his left arm, a shadow fell over his head.

"You're an interesting one. Persistent Lovers never..."

"Let their prey escape."

Encrid squeezed out the last of his strength and stole the words the other man was about to say.

When he lifted his head and looked at the Half Fairy, the man had a dumbfounded expression.

His mouth half open, he could not continue speaking, and after his lips twitched, he spat out words that sounded like a single question.

"You?"

Surprised? Of course you are.

He was a bastard who always moved as if he had predicted everything. Encrid had wanted to see that expression crumble.

He was satisfied.

"See you again."

The other man would not remember, but Encrid would remember today.

It was a statement that they would meet again in that today.

The assassin started violently at Encrid's words.

"Was this a trap?"

The Half Fairy looked left and right.

They had hired a first-rate assassin to kill a single soldier. He had thought it was excessive.

If it was a trap, then it made sense. At the words "see you again," he thought the other man had some means of surviving.

Of course, all of it was a misunderstanding.

A trap, as if.

With a thud, Encrid's head snapped down.

Another day ended.

The Boatswain appeared again and mocked him again.

'Does this bastard have nothing better to do?'

Thinking that, Encrid faced today again.

"Ugh, it's fucking cold."

From morning, he heard Rem whining.

"Move and warm yourself up. Then it gets a little better."

Encrid stole the words Audin would have said and said them first.

Then he got up and began loosening his body.

A body with a suitable amount of heat in it was better than a stiff one. That much was certain.

In that respect, Audin's exercises definitely helped.

As he started warming up first, Audin came over and asked,

"Where did you learn that?"

From you.

But he could not say that honestly.

"From an ascetic priest passing by."

According to Audin, the origin of the exercises he taught was the temple.

In other words, it was one of the ways priests trained their bodies.

To be precise, it would be the training method of monks among priests who used hand-to-hand combat and martial arts as tools of training.

"You learned it properly."

Audin joined in beside him and loosened up with the exercises again.

"Don't you know that when it's cold, the best thing is to sit still and hug a blanket? Go get some thermal leather from somewhere. If you've become a Squad Leader, I'm saying you should solve your squad members' cold."

As Encrid answered Rem's grumbling appropriately, Jaxon returned.

"Let's talk."

He abruptly took Jaxon and went outside.

"Hey, where are you going without me!"

Behind them, Rem was still grumbling.

"I want to learn how to handle Whistle Daggers."

This was one of the things Encrid had learned through repeating today.

Rather than trying to use his head to persuade someone for no reason, it was better to simply throw out what he needed.

"Where did you hear about that?"

"When you wander here and there, you hear and learn things. I want to learn."

"And the price?"

"Anything you want. I could even write you a blank check."

Famous merchant associations sometimes issued notes.

Among them, the protagonist of the most famous anecdote was Lengadis, the greatest merchant association and merchant house on the continent.

The son whom the head of the Lengadis Merchant Association had gained late in life, and his only son, had joined a beast subjugation force out of a sense of adventure.

When House Lengadis belatedly learned of it, they set out to find their son.

But an accident had already occurred, and the son was in danger of death.

An imperial knight order that happened to be passing through saved him.

To honor that, House Lengadis sent a blank check to the imperial knight order.

It meant that no matter how much they wrote, if it was an amount the merchant house could bear, they would pay it.

That famous anecdote had now hardened into an idiom.

To say one would give a blank check now meant one would give anything except one's life.

Jaxon's brow narrowed.

"That is not something you should say lightly."

"That's how much I want to learn."

Encrid answered him.

He meant it.