Chapter 17: Eyes in the Back of Your Head
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 17: Eyes in the Back of Your Head
If you had the knack for it, you could even find prostitutes inside the military camp.
Sachsen had heard that these women actually preferred sneaking into army camps over visiting noble estates or rural villages. For one, they could charge significantly higher rates than usual.
Furthermore, while it was strictly prohibited under military law, the men they met—whether common soldiers or high-ranking commanders—went to extreme lengths to keep things quiet. No one wanted to face the disciplinary consequences of being caught with a woman in the barracks.
In other words, the camp was a goldmine filled with high-paying suckers who were desperate to keep their mouths shut.
‘Even so...’
Sachsen certainly had a knack for it.
No matter how much a man might want to pull it off, some people simply had the talent for these things, and others didn't.
‘Big-Eyes probably arranged it for him.’
"Well, I’m impressed. You’ve got quite the talent, don't you?"
"There’s no reason to live a life of frustration, is there?" Sachsen replied smoothly.
He wasn't wrong. If you had the ability to enjoy life, there was no reason not to.
Sachsen walked along, casually buttoning his shirt. His relationship with the woman he’d left behind in the barracks seemed strictly transactional; he didn't look back even once. Through the gaps in his shirt, a swollen, red hickey was visible on his neck. It seemed they had shared a very passionate moment.
Sachsen’s reddish-brown hair fluttered slightly in the wind. He possessed a strange charm—he looked ordinary at first glance, yet he was undeniably handsome. With looks like that, it made sense that women would gravitate toward him.
"What is it?" Sachsen asked, glancing at Encrid.
He was the same as always: easygoing and plain. Sachsen, the squad member. Rem had once described him as a "pervert who loved to poke at gaps."
Encrid briefly recalled Sachsen’s behavior on the battlefield. If Rem was a charging wild beast, then Sachsen was...
‘Not much, really.’
Encrid had never actually seen Sachsen fight properly. Aside from what he knew through Rem’s descriptions, he had only seen Sachsen once, using a spear to poke an enemy in the back. That was it.
However, he could infer Sachsen’s skill from the results. Even Rem, as formidable as he was, often sustained minor wounds in the heat of battle. But Sachsen had no such scars. It was extremely rare for him to get injured, and even when he did, the wounds were negligible.
"Hey, are you ever going to fight like a man?" Rem would sometimes growl at him.
Whenever he did, Sachsen would mock him openly. "I’m not the type who enjoys the sight of blood."
"If you don't like blood, then just drop dead. Or get the hell out of here, you sneaky bastard."
"That’s none of your business."
"Oh yeah? Should I split your head open, or your torso?"
"Before you try, I’ll put two thumbnail-sized holes in your heart."
That was usually where the conversation ended. Encrid would step between them just as Rem raised his axe, blood dripping from his forearm, and Sachsen quietly rose from his seat.
"If you two want to kill each other so badly, wouldn't it be easier for one of you to just defect to the enemy? Why do it here?"
Even after that, the two would glare at each other with murderous intent, but they never actually came to blows. Words alone wouldn't work, but if Encrid physically wedged himself between them, they would calm down like magic. He had stopped more than a few squad members that way.
Rem called Sachsen a "sneaky stray cat." Sachsen called Rem a "crazy barbarian."
Encrid remembered the time he saw Sachsen stab an enemy in the back with a spear he’d scavenged. Even after being skewered, the opponent couldn't even locate where Sachsen was. While the enemy looked around in confusion, Sachsen—who had crouched low—simply kicked his ankle. The image of the enemy flailing on the ground with a spear protruding from his back remained vivid in Encrid’s memory.
Curious about how he had pulled it off, Encrid had asked him during some downtime.
"It worked because the opponent's attention was entirely focused on what was in front of him," Sachsen had said.
There was no detailed explanation. While Rem was the type to share everything he knew, Encrid couldn't expect the same from Sachsen. Not that Encrid gave up easily, though.
"Squad Leader?"
Sachsen stopped walking. Before they knew it, they had arrived in front of the medical tent where Encrid had been staying. Seeing Sachsen’s questioning look, Encrid fell into thought.
But there was no need to agonize over the answer. Encrid hadn't planned on becoming the leader of the 4th Company, 4th Platoon’s "Troublemaker Squad." Who could have planned such a dynamic?
Therefore, there was no need to hesitate. If he was curious, he asked. If he needed something, he demanded it. That was how Encrid treated his squad members.
"If someone like you tries to stab me in the back, how do I avoid it?"
Sachsen understood Encrid’s meaning instantly. Encrid had pestered him relentlessly to teach him how to sneak up behind someone. It was bordering on obsession; he would repeat the same question every few days.
It would have been easier to deal with if Encrid had just whined. Then Sachsen could have simply scared him off. But the Squad Leader didn't do that. He only showed a burning, quiet desire to learn.
Sachsen wasn't particularly moved by that passion, but one thing was certain: if left alone, Encrid would ask the same thing every few days for as long as they were in this squad. If he knew this man for the rest of his life, he would probably ask for the rest of his life.
Sachsen didn't use the word "relentless" lightly. He knew human limits all too well. He knew the emptiness of words like mental strength, conviction, and will.
And yet, to him, Encrid was a relentless man. His passion for the sword and martial arts burned hotter than anyone else's. Was that passion what drove him to be like this?
"Why are you so eager to learn?"
"If I know it, my chances of survival will be slightly higher."
What's the point of surviving longer when you throw all your hard-earned money at some training academy anyway? Sachsen was about to ask what he hoped to achieve, but he stopped himself. What was the point of knowing? They were destined to be passing acquaintances anyway.
After that, though it wasn't easy, Sachsen began to explain in earnest. Not that he thought the Squad Leader could master it. Of course he couldn't. It wasn't something someone of his "type" could use.
But today's question was a bit more refreshing.
"Do you think your broken ribs were caused by a stray blade—no, a stray kick?"
To Sachsen, it was an obvious question. If Encrid thought he had been kicked by Frok in the previous battle simply because he hadn't sensed his presence, he was sorely mistaken.
"No, that was just because the opponent was monstrously strong."
"Then?"
A rare follow-up question.
"Are you curious?" Encrid asked back.
He knew Sachsen’s usual attitude. Sachsen was never curious. He simply kept a moderate distance from everyone, neither getting too close nor drifting too far. No one considered Sachsen a close friend, but outside of the 444th Squad, no one particularly disliked him either.
A comfortable distance. That was Sachsen’s default state. So it was unusual for him to ask a question like this.
Encrid knew that if he answered this way, Sachsen would give him an answer without pressing further. Though they hadn't intended to form this kind of bond, spending time together had made him well-acquainted with their habits.
"No. It's not that. If there's a guy trying to stab you with a spear from behind, you just have to notice him first."
As expected, his explanation was terrible. Rem often said he was bad at explaining things, but compared to Sachsen, Rem could easily work as a sword instructor for a prestigious noble family.
Fortunately, Encrid had experienced all kinds of teachers. Some were better at teaching than their actual skills warranted. Others had decent skills but were terrible at explaining them. From every single teacher, in every single moment, Encrid had gotten his money's worth. He had more than enough ways to learn effectively.
"How do I notice them first?" Encrid asked.
"Just look around you constantly."
"What if I still get hit even after looking around?"
"Look around more often."
"I can't walk around turning my head all day, can I?"
"If it's you, Squad Leader, you probably could."
"No, I can't."
Sachsen sometimes treated him like some kind of freak. And unlike Rem, he wasn't joking; he was dead serious. Through experience, Encrid had learned how to deal with this. He just had to firmly state his limits.
Sure enough, Encrid’s firm refusal seemed to change Sachsen’s mind. He looked around and stepped to the side, toward a spot next to the medical tent where various supplies were piled up. Perching his backside on the crates, he leaned against the tent and said, "It looks like this is going to be a long conversation."
"Today is a long day." At least until he went to sleep, Encrid had plenty of time to spare.
"Aren't you going to eat?"
"Will I die from skipping one meal? I'll do your kitchen duty for the rest of my life in exchange. Ah, of course, only for as long as we're in the same squad."
It was a promise that would vanish once today ended anyway. Encrid threw out promises recklessly.
"If that's a joke, it's not funny."
Strangely enough, what every member of the 444th Squad hated most was kitchen duty and washing dishes. They would rather fight in a battle than do chores. The reason? They hated preparing food for other soldiers to stuff their faces with, and they hated cleaning up after those bastards even more. They were a bunch of lunatics through and through.
But there was much to learn from them. At least on the battlefield, they were incomparable teachers.
What if Sachsen couldn't solve this for him? Instead of wasting time worrying about that, Encrid focused. And if it still didn't work out, he could always look for Rem or another squad member in another "today."
A soldier who left the battlefield without a single scratch... Encrid didn't know if Sachsen was truly exceptionally skilled. He hadn't seen it with his own eyes. However, the results spoke for themselves: he was an incredible survivor. Rem’s grudging respect was proof enough of Sachsen’s skill.
There had to be something to learn. Even if it wasn't helpful right now, it would surely be useful later. After all, had the Beast’s Heart been useful the very moment he learned it?
"I'm not idle enough to make empty promises."
"Didn't you just say you have all day?"
"That’s a different story."
"Fine. I expect you to keep your word."
Encrid nodded and sat down directly in front of Sachsen. A few passing soldiers glanced at them, but no one spoke. Between the passing soldiers and supply carts, the two sat facing each other. Sachsen sat on the baggage, making his eye level higher, but it wasn't enough to be bothersome.
Sachsen felt a strange sensation. Encrid had plopped down on the dirt and was staring at him intently. There were pebbles and sharp stones on the ground, so it must have been uncomfortable. Moreover, despite the dust kicked up by the passing carts, Encrid’s eyes showed he had completely forgotten his surroundings.
He was focusing on Sachsen’s words without a single shred of doubt. Moved by the intensity of that gaze, Sachsen spoke.
"Humans have what are called the five senses."
"Are you talking about eyes, nose, ears, and things like that?"
"Yes. Sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch."
Why bring that up now? Anyone else would have wondered. But Encrid showed no such sign. He simply listened. It was an excellent attitude—enough to make Sachsen say things he hadn't planned to.
Sachsen, who had originally intended to just tell him to train his senses, began to explain further. The words came from his heart, not his head.
"If you can't keep turning your head, you just need to put eyes in the back of your head."
Just because words came from the heart didn't mean they sounded kind. Even Sachsen thought what he just said was absolute nonsense. It was a terrible explanation.
"I see," Encrid said, nodding.
‘Good grief.’
Sachsen chose his words carefully. He had never expected to teach something like this. But there was no reason he couldn't. He would just teach a portion of what he had trained.
He had observed Encrid long enough to know: the Squad Leader was ordinary. His senses were average. He had no innate talent. But that was fine. The training he was about to explain was effective even for ordinary people. If practiced consistently for three or four months, one could achieve decent results.
Normally, this training was done by locking someone in a pitch-black cave. An even better method would be having an assassin determined to kill the Squad Leader threaten his life dozens of times. But that was realistically impossible.
"You can't always look in all directions with your eyes, but you can with your ears."
It was still an explanation as awful as monster piss, but...
"Ah, right. Sound doesn't care about front or back."
Encrid, listening intently, understood immediately.
"To be precise, sound also has a front and a back. If you learn to distinguish sounds, your hearing will develop. For example, it's a training you can do even while sitting down. Now, listen."
Naturally, all sorts of sounds filled the air: the rolling of carts, the grumbling of soldiers, the groans of the sick, the indifferent voice of a doctor telling them to bear the pain, and even the flapping of a flag pinned to a tent in the unusually strong wind.
After a brief silence, Sachsen spoke.
"Today is a west wind, and the doctor is in the third tent ahead of us. Also, the joint of that cart's left wheel is loose. If they're lucky, it'll hold for two days; if they're unlucky, the joint will give out today."
And indeed, it did. The wheel, which had been rolling fine, made a sharp cracking sound and collapsed to one side.
"Ah, seriously!" the soldier driving the cart burst out in frustration.
"If you distinguish and separate sounds, you can always perceive your surroundings."
Encrid was amazed. Was such a thing really possible? Sachsen had just proven that it was.
"This is how you put eyes in the back of your head: Auditory Training. Do you think you can do it?"
For this training, the environment was what mattered; the method itself wasn't difficult. After all, it was just about distinguishing sounds. Of course, that didn't mean it was easy.
"So it would help to repeatedly listen to and distinguish the same sound? And once I get used to that, I move on to a different method?"
Regardless of his skill in swordsmanship, the Squad Leader was certainly a good listener. Being a good listener meant he was quick to understand. He grasped Sachsen’s words in an instant.
"Yes, that's correct. Among the ways to read the footsteps or presence of an assassin moving in silence, one method is to distinguish them by the sound of the surrounding air currents. If you knew an assassin well, it would be best to have them secretly target your neck. That would be the ultimate training method."
The latter part of his words was half-joking. He even smiled slightly as he said it. It was a joke, and he had certainly said more than necessary. Because the Squad Leader was understanding his terrible explanations so easily, Sachsen had spoken without thinking. He also believed it was something the Squad Leader would never have any reason to encounter.
And yet.
"Is that so?"
The Squad Leader’s eyes shone even brighter.
A truly incomprehensible man. That was Sachsen’s final assessment of Encrid.