Chapter 8 - Snakes, Liquor, Flowers, Knives.

Not wanting to die anymore was only the surface reason.

Encrid felt a different kind of fear as he repeated 'today.'

The fear that he might settle here, the fear that this kind of opportunity might never come again if he moved past today, the desire to just stop here.

That desire was a source of fear for Encrid.

'Was this what I wanted?'

Settling for today meant living a stagnant life.

It was a life that could not move forward.

Hoping for tomorrow was a natural human mindset.

Furthermore, Encrid was a man who dreamed of tomorrow despite his lack of talent.

There was also a rational and valid reason for it.

'I've learned all there is to learn.'

The amount he could gain from repeatedly training here was too little.

If so, it meant it was time to move forward toward tomorrow.

'What happens if I survive?'

Would this today finally come to an end?

He had pondered this countless times.

To give the conclusion, he didn't know.

He had no idea. What would happen after he survived.

'If I can move forward.'

Let's move forward.

Wasn't that how he had lived his entire life?

Above all, Encrid needed certainty.

Could he really see tomorrow with what he had gained from repeating today?

There was no way to know. Therefore, he was taking on the challenge.

The mindset of a challenger was a daily occurrence for him.

Today would be a long day.

Because he would have to utilize everything he had built up so far.

* * *

"How did you do it?"

"Luck."

"Is that something you can just brush off as luck?"

As soon as they left the tent, Krais asked back with his eyes wide open even larger than usual.

The dealer soldier who rolled the dice was dumbfounded.

Even so, he didn't throw a fit saying it made no sense.

The hand that rolled the dice was his own.

Thanks to that, Encrid was able to calmly get up and walk out.

It wasn't something that weighed on his conscience either.

Because he had never cheated.

He just knew all the numbers the dice would spit out, as if mimicking some petty prophet.

"I'll buy you a beer in town later."

A soldier who had made a tidy profit thanks to Encrid patted his shoulder as he walked past.

"It's genuinely luck. I have no talent for gambling."

Encrid said as he changed his walking direction. Krais followed closely behind him.

"If that's having no talent, then everyone with talent must be buried underground."

"Sometimes luck just happens to follow."

"... If luck follows you twice, your pockets wouldn't just be bulging, they'd burst."

While walking, Encrid handed over seventeen silver coins.

CLINK.

At the sound of the silver coins clinking together, Krais held out a pouch.

Taking them, Krais moved on, saying, 'Fine, it's none of my business.'

Then he suddenly stared at Encrid and rolled his large eyes around.

"I got it."

What?

When Encrid asked back with his eyes.

He continued speaking with a beaming smile.

"You're trying to hit on the commander coming tomorrow, right? Is that why you need the flowers? No, then something like roses or lisianthus would be better than white horse flowers, wouldn't they?"

Even setting aside the gambling, the items he asked him to fetch must have been quite a peculiar assortment.

"... You think that would work?"

'What on earth is inside this bastard's head?'

There were widespread rumors that the new Company Commander arriving tomorrow was a woman.

'Right, they did say a woman was coming.'

'But would she really fall for me just because I gave her a bouquet of flowers?'

'That's a method that wouldn't even work on a country village maiden.'

'Of course, it might work if you had a face like Krais as one of your preparations.'

'No, even then it probably wouldn't work, right? At best, I'd break even, and at worst, I'd face immediate summary execution for insulting a superior.'

"Because you're pretty decent-looking yourself if you dress up, Squad Leader."

"Do you interrogate me like this every time I ask you to get me something?"

'Won't you have to run until your feet sweat starting right now to get the items before lunch?'

As he spoke with his eyes, Krais said he understood and turned his body.

Krais would move diligently.

It would be troublesome if he didn't. He had done this a few times before, but depending on the time that friend took to bring the items, Encrid would also have to move until his feet sweat.

So for now, it was time to rest.

Encrid leisurely ate breakfast.

Soup with finely crushed barley and wheat, hard bread, and dried meat made up the breakfast.

Meat was only served once every three days.

It was fortunate that today happened to be that day.

If it hadn't been, he wouldn't have even caught a glimpse of meat in this repeating day.

He crumbled the bread, which he would normally melt with his saliva, into the soup.

When he scooped the suitably thickened broth into his mouth and chewed, there was a texture to chew on, but it was still bland.

Only after tearing the dried meat as if ripping it apart, adding it in, and mixing it did the seasoning hit the right spot.

Encrid chewed thoroughly. The meal would soon become the vitality he needed to move.

Regardless of skill differences, a soldier who had starved for days and a soldier who had eaten heartily were bound to show a difference in combat power.

The warm broth slid down his throat and settled in his stomach.

After repeating that a few times, his bowl was empty.

"Is it tasty? Does it taste good to eat after exploiting the labor of your squad member?"

Rem approached and grumbled.

"Very much."

"It's good that you're not a picky eater. I've never seen a picky eater live long. Don't we have a guy like that in our squad too?"

"For all that, that friend seems to keep returning alive just fine."

"His time is coming soon."

Rem, who had been spewing curses at his own squad member, soon grabbed his bowl and walked away.

It was time to diligently wash the bowls.

It was after he had heartily filled his stomach by mixing bread and dried meat into the thin soup.

Encrid took out an oil-soaked cloth, carefully wiped his sword, and then wiped it again with a dry cloth.

The newly acquired sword wasn't made of famous steel, nor was it crafted by a renowned artisan, but it was quite usable.

The center of gravity was decent, and the blade was well-sharpened.

It was sharp enough to slice and pierce straight through thick cloth armor or thin leather armor.

When he finished maintaining his sword and stepped out in front of the barracks, he saw Krais.

Watching him approach while looking left and right, Encrid called out to him.

"Big-eyes."

Krais approached, clutching something like a bundle in his hand.

"Here you go."

The bundle, naturally, was the items Encrid had ordered.

Upon receiving it, it was exactly as he expected.

Five throwing knives with a fair amount of impurities mixed in.

A lump of poor-quality but properly oiled leather and one large needle.

"I barely managed to get the deerskin glove."

Krais said as Encrid was rubbing the blade of a throwing knife with his fingers.

It certainly was so.

The glove wasn't a pair, but only a single left piece.

"So here."

Krais handed back one coin.

"I calculated the deerskin gloves as two coins, you see."

'Big-eyes bastard, he sure is greedy for money.'

It was a fact he already knew.

If he argued, he could probably get it back, but that would waste time. He was better off focusing on what he had to do today.

He didn't have much time to do this and that.

As for the white horse flowers, he had brought dried-up ones.

"You said you weren't going to confess, right? I can't get fresh ones."

'Swindler bastard.'

Encrid nodded his head. This was within his expectations.

What kind of crazy bastard could procure ten fresh flowers in the middle of a battlefield?

"Instead, there are twelve of them."

At least he was a swindler with a conscience.

"And here."

Krais held out a small pouch.

When he opened the inside, it contained alum.

If the deal had gone south, he probably would have stubbornly claimed he couldn't get the alum, only to smooth things over later by saying he barely managed to find it.

It was a transparent trick, but Encrid didn't mind.

Because he had gotten everything he needed.

"Good work."

"But what are you really going to do?"

Krais was exceptionally curious about what this good-natured Squad Leader was going to do.

"I'm thinking of doing some sewing and brewing some liquor."

So at Encrid's answer, he couldn't help but tilt his head.

'What sewing all of a sudden? And why brew liquor?'

"Well, alright."

Krais left without asking further, and Encrid carefully tucked the knives into his waist before tossing the rest into the tent.

After that, he took long strides.

His steps were aimed at a pre-determined destination.

As he walked without resting toward the outskirts of the barracks, a soldier stared at Encrid walking by and shouted.

"Hey, you there, who is it? Oh, Squad 444 Squad Leader? If you're going to do your business, don't go there."

"Why?"

"A guy taking a piss there yesterday got bitten by a snake. It's a venomous snake. It's not a deadly one, but he's been scratching his body all day making a fuss."

"It's urgent. I'll take a quick piss and come out."

"I warned you."

It wasn't something to actively stop him from doing. The soldier just let Encrid go.

'Unless his luck is incredibly bad, he should be fine.'

Thinking that, the soldier turned away from Encrid.

Encrid walked moderately and looked around.

The outskirts of the barracks, an area designated for relieving oneself.

Dry leaves were scattered between a few foul-smelling pits and several large trees.

Encrid avoided the foul-smelling area and sprinkled the alum.

Then he found a spot devoid of grass, crouched down, picked up a fallen branch nearby, and whittled the end of it with the tip of a throwing knife.

He used the blade as a saw to repeatedly scrape the branch, and applied force to shave outwards to refine the tip of the branch.

After a few cuts, the end of the branch split to the left and right, becoming like a spear with a split tip.

On the surface, he looked like he was just killing time with nothing to do, but his inner intentions were different.

Even while working, Encrid kept a close eye on the dry leaves.

Not even the time it takes to drink a cup of tea had passed since he finished working on the branch when the leaves rustled and moved.

Snakes hate alum. Since he had sprinkled alum on one side, it was only natural that the snake would move to avoid that direction.

Hunting snakes was also something he occasionally did.

Since catching a decent venomous snake would often fetch a good price in a trade.

When he sold a snake to a heavy drinker in the city back then and asked what it was used for, the drunkard had laughed heartily and said.

"You've never tried snake liquor, have you? If you haven't, don't even talk."

He was a cheerful drunkard.

SLITHER.

He saw the creature wriggling as it parted the dry leaves.

It was a creature with a brown body and an angularly shaped head.

Encrid pressed down on its neck area with the end of the branch.

JAB.

He mixed the stabbing technique he had learned into this simple movement.

The snake couldn't dodge.

He struck the head of the pinned snake with the back of his knife and knocked it out.

'That's one for now.'

He repeated the same process a few times.

After scattering all the remaining alum, he kept at it until no more snakes came out.

He didn't need that much time.

He was done before the sun had even fully passed overhead.

Encrid caught five snakes.

He grabbed the captured snakes by the snout one by one and pressed them against a canteen lined with thin leather.

The startled snakes woke up and oozed venom from their venom glands.

He repeated that process five times again and stuffed the leftover snakes into a single thick leather pouch.

"Do you have constipation? You weren't coming out, so I was just about to go check if you really got bitten by a snake."

It was the soldier from earlier. He had a serious expression. It seemed he had actually been somewhat worried.

"Thanks to you, it was a smooth dump."

Encrid casually spouted nonsense and walked diligently.

* * *

In the barracks right behind Encrid's, that Squad Leader's mother had taken in sewing for money since he was young.

This friend, who had decent dexterity, had learned his mother's sewing by looking over her shoulder and used to do it himself, and his skill was quite good.

Even so, he enlisted in the military because he thought he couldn't make a living out of sewing.

And there was one more thing.

'That he is disgustingly fond of liquor.'

That was what Encrid knew about the sewing Squad Leader.

Encrid threw the lump of leather in front of the Squad Leader who was suffering from a hangover.

"Do you need something?"

His complexion wasn't good, but this friend's sewing was genuinely useful.

He had already done this a few times.

Even if he threatened to tell the Company Commander that he had been drinking, he would do it, but then he would do a sloppy job on the sewing.

"Use this to make me some pads for my hands, knees, and elbows."

"Why should I?"

The Squad Leader frowned. It was a natural reaction. They weren't exactly on terms where they interacted normally.

However, time was too tight to put effort into persuading him.

Even if he started right now, it would be a close call to receive them before the battle.

"You've got some hidden liquor, right?"

At those words, the guy's complexion changed and his eyebrows twitched.

He looked like an angry wild boar. In fact, his appearance also brought a wild boar to mind.

'To have delicate sewing skills with this kind of appearance.'

"If you brew it with these and drink it, the taste will be killer."

Saying that, he smoothly set down the pouch of snakes he had caught.

The snakes squirmed and danced over the leather. It was a frenzied dance.

"It's snakes."

The guy said without even looking inside.

"Have you ever tried snake liquor?"

At that, the Squad Leader nodded as if it were obvious.

"You know the taste is killer, right?"

Encrid hadn't tried it. But thanks to the cheerful drunkard, he knew.

"You know it's a taste you can't understand unless you've tried it, right?"

When he said it again, the Squad Leader nodded vigorously.

"I'll give you the snakes. Make these for me."

"How did you know I was good at sewing?"

"I heard the Company Commander mention it the other day."

That had never happened. It was something this friend had personally told him while drunk.

Well, it wasn't important.

"Goddamn it, that blabbermouth bastard."

Even while grumbling like that, he snatched up the needle. It was a fair trade.

"I'll leave it to you then."

"Fuck, yeah, I got it."

The fellow soldier's eyes didn't leave the squirming snake pouch.

'He sure likes snake liquor quite a bit.'

Encrid returned inside the barracks, grabbed what was left, and moved to the place where he usually sparred with Rem.

No one talked to him.

At times like this, it was good being in Squad 444. It was a squad that also served the role of being outcasts.

Behind a small hill where people rarely came and went.

Wearing the deerskin glove, Encrid crushed the white horse flowers by pounding them with a rock. He repeated the action until the white petals were dyed dark green, and then mixed in the snake venom.

Originally, the venom of this snake merely caused itchiness. But it was different when mixed with white horse flowers.

On the seventy-seventh 'today,' he was hit by this poison, and there was an enemy soldier bastard giggling in front of the paralyzed Encrid.

Who knows why he felt so good that he rattled off exactly how to make it.

So Encrid had tried making it a few times, and it was quite effective.

He crushed the flowers, mixed in the venom, and pulled out a throwing dagger to smear the sticky green liquid that had formed on the flat stone onto its blade.

The knife glinted in the sunlight, reflecting a dull, dark green hue.

'With this, the preparations are finished.'

CLANG! CLANG!

"All platoons, assemble!"

Right on time, a loud shout was heard from inside the barracks.

It was something Encrid knew well through his repeated 'todays.'

It was the assembly to hand down combat orders.