Chapter 109: Setting Fires is Habit-Forming
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 109: Setting Fires is Habit-Forming
Encrid met the mage’s gaze, staring directly into Letsha’s eyes.
‘Mages have eyes, too.’
They had noses and mouths, just like anyone else. Which meant they were human.
"Every human has reflexive habits."
Sachsen’s teachings suddenly resurfaced in his mind. He knew exactly what he had prepared in response.
Encrid only needed to halt the fiercely lashing thorn vines for a single heartbeat. He had a way to do it—his hidden trump card. It was something he had attempted several times during his previous "todays."
He had practiced enough. The key was the timing.
Meaning, right now.
As he parried and dodged, using only his left hand to wield his sword, a thorn vine struck his left wrist with a heavy thud. The leather gauntlet he had looted from the corpse in the sewers tore to shreds.
At that exact moment, Encrid flung his right hand upward.
Letsha’s eyebrows twitched. It was a natural reaction, considering she had seen his throwing knife technique multiple times already. She judged that whatever he threw wouldn't be a problem. After all, wasn't she shrouded in a spell barrier capable of blocking almost any physical force?
Before her unsuspecting eyes, a stone flew instead of a dagger. It was a thin, crystal-like bead.
Flash!
A sudden burst of light erupted—a radiance incomparable to any torch. Everyone who had reflexively looked at the object, including Letsha, was instantly blinded. Though it lasted only a fleeting moment, they lost their sight.
"Hup."
Holding his breath, Encrid sprang into motion.
This was a trick he had prepared, keeping his eyes glued to the ground to anticipate this very moment. What he had hidden in his sleeve was the glowing stone he had acquired in the sewers. He had gone through considerable trouble to figure out how to trigger it, though he hadn't expected to use it quite like this.
He had used the Hide Knife technique to throw it covertly. His intention was to lower her guard by showing an empty hand, and it had worked perfectly. All these factors aligned to create a paper-thin opening.
For Encrid, that was more than enough.
Tap.
He used the charge technique he had learned from watching a squire on one of his previous loops. Keeping his posture extremely low, he dashed forward. He gripped the hilt with both hands and raised his sword high.
Lifting his upper body, he stepped forward with his left foot, shifting his center of gravity from back to front, and delivered a vertical downward slash.
Letsha, who had just recovered her vision, screamed at the sight.
"Kyaaaah!"
That was her death rattle and her final words.
Swish, shatter—!
Letsha’s barrier disintegrated. It was a Heavy Sword Style downward slash—a strike delivered with absolute, concentrated power. A blow struck with no regard for what came after.
Letsha’s head was caught in its path.
Thump. Grate.
The blade, its trajectory slightly altered as it smashed through the barrier, scalped her, severed her ear, split her collarbone, and tore out through the bottom.
Squelch.
The blade sliced through her internal organs and thirty percent of her upper body before exiting near her waist. Chunks of flesh, including an arm severed by the steel, fell to the ground with a wet thud.
It left the mage standing there blankly, a living corpse pouring out blood and entrails onto the stone. The light in her eyes faded in an instant. What she had wanted to do in her final moments was painfully obvious, but she would never get the chance.
Behind Encrid, a few thorn vines twitched before losing their strength and collapsing.
"Phew."
Only then did Encrid exhale the breath he had been holding. He had known that Letsha’s barrier would shatter if subjected to an impact beyond a certain threshold. A heavy, weight-bearing blow could break it. Hadn't she ignored the daggers, yet been affected by Finn’s axe?
In truth, this was a battle where he had utilized everything he had learned from repeating this "today." He had even hidden the glowing stone using the Hide Knife technique.
"Aren't you going to clean up the rest?" Encrid asked, snatching the glowing stone from the air.
Because of this light, those inside the territory would quickly realize there was a commotion on the wall. They didn't have much time.
Whoosh.
Finn moved first, and Torres followed right behind her. There weren't many enemy soldiers left.
"Aaargh!"
The death rattles of the soldiers echoed atop the wall. The moonlight still shone down on Encrid. Everyone—Torres, Finn, and even the dying enemy soldiers—saw the moonlight shining behind his back like a halo.
He exuded an aura—a scent—of something different, something not quite human. The scent of blood and the fragrance of roses mingled atop the wall. It was a truly bizarre scent, unique enough that one might believe it was a newly released perfume.
*
Once they scaled down the wall, they entered Finn’s domain. As if she had already prepared for this, she pressed herself against the inner wall, dug up a patch of earth, and pulled out a bundle.
"Supplies for an emergency."
It was likely prepared by the spy inside, the one code-named "Cat." Inside the bundle was dirty, coarse sackcloth. She immediately tossed it to Encrid and Torres.
While Encrid and Torres draped the sackcloth over their heads at the edge of the slums bordering the wall, Finn snapped the necks of two beggars who had poked their heads close out of curiosity. Seeing her put them to sleep without even a cracking sound, one couldn't help but admire her—she was indeed Finn.
Had he not seen it countless times during his repetitions of today? Finn’s Eilkaraz-style martial arts were like a fully ripened fruit, the mark of a true master.
Most of the slum dwellers paid no attention to their surroundings. This meant there would be no more witnesses. Thus, the three of them melted into the darkness and the filthy sackcloth.
Following behind her, Encrid lost himself in his own thoughts. It was a recurring thought—a review of the battle, just as he always did.
When repeating today, Encrid had been faced with three paths. Was it enough to just choose one of those paths and break through?
‘Is there really a need to choose just one?’
Once he relaxed his shoulders, he saw it. Instead of choosing one of the three paths, he could utilize all three walls. It seemed entirely possible.
At the dog hole where Gray Dog waited, he could gain experience being surrounded by elite troops. When fighting the pack of Lycanthropes, he could learn how to fight and evade in a chaotic melee. And what a wonderful teaching aid Letsha of the rose vines was.
Gray Dog, the Lycanthropes, and Letsha. Encrid viewed all three as training tools. Excellent teaching aids. That was how Encrid shaped his "today."
‘I don't think it was bad.’
His wrist throbbed slightly from the blow his left gauntlet had taken. He had even relied on his leather armor to take hits from attacks he absolutely couldn't block. But there were no fatal wounds.
"Shh, keep your head down. Patrol."
At Finn’s words, Encrid lowered his head and pretended to sleep. With some of his gear hidden and a dirty sackcloth draped over him, his disguise was complete.
"This smell is driving me crazy."
"Bear with it. Don't you know about the chaos on the wall? There's a chance they hid here."
"Then they should just sweep this whole place."
"Shh, what if they all turn on us?"
Listening to the two patrolmen chatter, Encrid narrowed his eyes.
"Alright. Let's move."
Finn led Encrid and Torres without hesitation, as if walking a familiar path. Looking up as they walked, a portion of the territory came into Encrid’s view. A tall bell tower in the distance, dirt roads, and mostly dark alleyways, though faint light leaked from some of the buildings.
While Encrid followed behind, Finn slipped next to Torres. When Torres shot her a look that asked what she was doing instead of focusing on her job, she spoke.
"Are all Border Guards like that?"
"Huh?"
"I mean, can they all fight like that?" Finn pointed her thumb backward.
Behind them was Encrid. At Finn’s question, Torres fell into deep thought.
A swordsman of that caliber? A swordsman with the skill to deflect a mage’s bizarre thorn vines with a sword instead of a shield, create an opening, and cut her down? A swordsman who utilized his own specialty, the Hide Knife, in such a bizarre way after being taught only a few times? A swordsman who could survive and evade with half his life on the line while sandwiched between Lycanthropes and enemy elites? A swordsman who ultimately sliced through every opponent that lunged at him, single-handedly wiping out a Lycanthrope colony and finishing off the elite soldiers?
Torres recalled the most prominent figures in the Border Guard. Eisen? Bani? Hyo-woon?
Like hell they could!
Purely in terms of skill, it felt like Encrid had already crossed some kind of line.
"Do you think there are?"
"Huh?"
"I'm asking if you think monsters like him are just lying around everywhere."
It was a truly bizarre feeling. Clearly, until not too long ago, Encrid had been beneath him. When they sparred on their way here, they were evenly matched. But somewhere along the way, he had changed. His mastery was different, and the way he swung his sword was different.
"Ha."
At Torres’s response, Finn let out a sigh of admiration. Just look at what this soldier named Encrid had done.
‘This guy is a platoon leader? Just a platoon leader?’
What would happen if she reported this when they got back? As she scanned the surroundings for the code left by Cat, she wondered if anyone would even believe what Encrid had accomplished.
While they relied on the moonlight and used the darkness to avoid patrols, the wall where they had caused a ruckus grew noisy, then quickly fell silent. Encrid thought the silence was even more ominous. Now that he had dealt with the mage, was his intuition finally kicking in properly?
But if he relied on it too much, he’d probably end up dead again. He had finally scaled the wall by utilizing all three paths. He wanted to welcome tomorrow just like this. Therefore, he did not let his guard down. He kept his senses sharp, ready to react instantly if anything were to happen.
Finn searched until morning, and though the three of them were exhausted, nothing happened. The commotion that had started on the wall did not sweep through the territory. Rather, there was a sense that they were keeping it quiet.
This was confirmed when they hid in an alleyway and overheard two patrolmen talking as they passed the main street.
"Did something happen last night? I heard someone scaled the wall."
"Shh, orders came down not to talk about it. Don't go running your mouth unless you want your pay docked."
As the two walked away, Finn muttered from the shadows. "This is bad."
"Why?"
"The trail went cold. Cat is dead."
"Are you saying we came all this way for nothing?" Torres asked.
Finn shook her head. "He did leave a secret letter. But it's a bit tricky."
"What is?"
In the corner of the alley, Finn let out a groan. "There's a designated spot in front of the castle gate. He buried it there."
"Why of all places in front of the gate?"
"It means he was that desperate. It's the last place he could stop by if his escape failed."
This was going to be a headache. Torres nudged Encrid and asked, "Hey, got any bright ideas?"
"We retrieve the item in front of the gate and head back. Isn't that all we need to do?"
"That won't be easy."
‘Is this really something to agonize over?’ Encrid thought as he looked at the two. ‘Their minds have gone stiff.’
It made sense. They had been through so much in the middle of the night. On top of that, though Encrid himself didn't realize it, both of them were still reeling from the display he had put on—his swordsmanship and his bold decisiveness in bending every situation to his will. That was the "yesterday" Encrid had shown them.
"Let's set a fire."
"...Huh?"
"Let's use the cover of night to set a fire and slip out. We can grab the item on our way. If they're keeping quiet about what happened on the wall yesterday, it sounds like they're waiting for the intruders to make a move. Let's give them exactly what they're waiting for."
Finn’s eyes sparkled. It was a brilliant plan. At the same time, a thought occurred to her: I should have said that first. She realized her own mind had indeed gone stiff. Well, that was fine. Finn was an excellent ranger, and an excellent ranger could also be a major troublemaker—at least from the enemy’s perspective.
The three of them hid until nightfall, then set fire to the front of an inn where hay was piled high.
Whoosh.
They scattered and set fires in six different locations simultaneously. Finn was the most excited. Her feet were swift, her hands were nimble, and she was the first to start shouting about the fire, running her mouth with glee to fuel the panic.
Moving through the darkness with the blazing fires at his back, Encrid thought: ‘I feel like I'm setting fires every chance I get.’
At this rate, he was going to become an arsonist instead of a knight. It seemed setting fires was becoming a habit. Of course, that wasn't something to worry about right now. He grabbed a torch, practically ran as he walked, and tossed it onto the hay. He added a bottle of oil he had swiped from the inn on top of it.
Fwoosh!
It burned beautifully. He felt less like a mere arsonist and more like a professional, but the results were outstanding.
"Fire! There's a fire!"
The sky had been dark since daytime, suggesting a spring rain would fall soon, but today was not that day. Thus, the hay and straw burned exceptionally well. The adjacent wooden buildings caught quickly. After knocking over a few torch stands, the flames roared violently.
While everyone’s attention was drawn to the inferno, Finn, Torres, and Encrid slipped away unnoticed. This happened just before the castle gates were shut. Naturally, Finn dug up the ground and retrieved the secret letter.
"I guess we just need to head back now?" Torres said.
Finn and Encrid nodded. It was time to return.
"How did you know the mage’s name?" Torres asked on their way back after passing through the gates.
Encrid had wondered when he would ask. He spat out the excuse he had prepared. "It was luck. It was the name of a female mage who killed countless comrades of mine back during my mercenary days, so I just blurted it out."
Was he actually expecting them to believe this? Because it made so little sense, it somehow sounded plausible. Torres’s mind grew complicated, but he quickly dismissed it.
‘Who cares.’ As long as everything ended well, that was all that mattered. It was the attitude of a fine soldier.
*
Abnayor let out a hollow laugh. Sitting in his office inside Cross Guard, he couldn't stop chuckling in disbelief.
"Ha."
‘They broke through everything? In a single night?’
They had captured an enemy spy and extracted information. Based on that, they had laid a trap. They had even leaked information while pretending to be the spy. He had thought they would kill whoever dared to enter. Even so, he hadn't actually expected anyone to successfully infiltrate Cross Guard.
And yet.
‘The elite soldiers at the dog hole were nearly wiped out.’
Letsha was dead. She was not someone who should have died here. Letsha of the thorn vines was a renowned mage.
"I could at least understand if a knight had appeared."
But that wasn't the case either. He had tried to quiet the commotion first and see what the intruders would do next. He had intended to do so even if it meant deploying his direct subordinates. But while he was waiting, a fire broke out. He had prepared for every possibility, including assassination attempts.
But they only set fires. After that, there was no trace of the infiltrators.
‘They just set fires and left?’
Abnayor kept laughing. It was absurd and ridiculous. His mouth was smiling, but his eyes were not—a bizarre expression. The genius strategist of Azpen—that was the title he went by. Yet, he had been completely outplayed.
How could he not laugh?
*
Achoo!
On the way back to the unit, when Encrid suggested they spar again, Finn thought he was a certified crazy bastard. Torres politely declined.
"Aren't you tired? Because I am."
Thus, they arrived at the Border Guard. In front of the barracks, Encrid witnessed a strange scene. A shabby, bald man who could easily pass for a beggar was pleading with a soldier.
It was a sight that made Encrid tilt his head in confusion.