Chapter 189: You Need a Good Thrashing
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 189: You Need a Good Thrashing
“It’s a good sword.”
Encrid retrieved his blade from the smithy.
“Take this as well.”
He also received an iron breastplate, secured with rivets only along the sides. It was comfortable, leaving his shoulders unburdened, though he would eventually need to find matching pauldrons.
Encrid’s eyes drifted to the pile of scrap metal stacked in the corner of the forge. There were two other smithies within the Border Guard, but this one boasted the finest craftsmanship. Since the Border Guard lacked a dedicated smith for the Lord, all three shops were tasked with supplying weapons to the barracks.
Now that the war was over and it was time to stockpile supplies, they would be using that scrap to forge spears, swords, and bludgeons. In short, the blacksmith standing before him had pushed himself to the limit to repair Encrid’s sword despite having no time to spare.
“Here.”
Ting.
Encrid flicked a gold coin and stacked a few more on top of it.
“This is too much.”
“Keep the change. Buy your wife some flowers.”
The blacksmith stared at Encrid with hollow, exhausted eyes.
If I give it to you, just take it. Why the stare?
Lately, Encrid’s pockets were heavy with Krona, and he wasn't the type to hoard his wealth. Krais called this the captain’s greatest vice, but in reality, Krais was the only one in the platoon—no, the entire company—who was sensitive about money.
Even Finn lacked any real grasp of financial concepts. And Esther? Well, she was a panther. That went without saying.
But is it right to consider Esther a member of the unit?
Well, she had performed so well, what else could he do? Even if she couldn't be officially listed on the roster, the panther was recognized as a companion.
Besides, Rem, Ragna, Audin, and Sachsen—didn’t they all spend Krona like water? He was fairly certain they did.
Of course, Encrid was the worst of the lot. Whether he received a reward or looted a treasure vault, the moment Krona filled his pockets, he spent it without hesitation.
It was no different after he left the smithy.
Ting.
“Take it.”
A gold coin flew through the air, caught by a rough, calloused hand. It was John the Tanner.
John was a master of his craft. In fact, some of the peddlers who visited this territory came specifically to see him. His leatherworking was that of a true artisan, far surpassing the level of a mere weaver or craftsman.
What Encrid received from him this time was a pair of leather armguards. These bracers protected the arm from the wrist to the elbow. Despite wrapping tightly, they were soft yet incredibly sturdy. They were pitch black, secured by cinching leather laces of the same material from underneath.
The meticulous care put into them was evident in every stitch. An artisan’s touch was visible in every detail; a single gold coin was a small price to pay.
“It’s demonic beast hide, oiled three times.”
A single gold coin won’t cut it, then.
Ting. One more.
“That is fair.”
Artisan John always charged a fair price. He was an honest man. It was no wonder the peddlers wore down his doorstep with their visits. Usually, when someone was called an artisan, their prices skyrocketed, but not John’s.
In any case, demonic beast hide was one of the most difficult materials to work with. The tanning process required special chemicals, and even then, it often failed. It might be easy to find in the capital, but here on the frontier? Hardly.
I wonder if anyone else around here has gear like this.
Probably not.
He was also pleased with his sword. The evil spirit that had taught him swordsmanship was gone, and the vessel that had contained it—a blade that could well have been called a magic sword—was now just a piece of metal. He quite liked the faint blue sheen, the hilt wrapped in deerskin that the blacksmith had carefully sanded down, and the round, solid pommel.
“Take this. I had some spare time.”
Perhaps because it had been a while since he last visited the market, the cobbler he’d met back when he first opened the Gate of the Sixth Sense approached and handed him a pair of boots. The soles were thicker than before, and the instep was reinforced with a hard shell. It was obvious at a glance that an immense amount of care had gone into them.
“I just threw them together. They aren't really fit for sale.”
What is this nonsense?
“Father, just say you wanted to give them to him,” his daughter giggled beside him, offering a bright smile.
Encrid’s hand flicked another coin.
Ting!
It was gold. The daughter snatched it out of the air.
“This is too much.”
“Keep the change and spend it as you like.”
Encrid practically showered the locals with coins. On his way back, he was gifted a mountain of seasoned jerky and a couple of bottles of wine. The wine tasted decent enough.
But why did they give him charcoal?
“It’s high-quality charcoal.”
Where am I supposed to use this? Should I start a barbecue?
They were certainly an amusing bunch. Was this the influence of the Gilpin Guild? It felt as though many of the dark, stained parts of the territory had been washed away.
Of course, some stains refused to fade. For instance...
“Out of my way, commoner.”
...noble bastards like this one.
It was a noble accompanied by a single guard, whom he ran into on the street. Upon seeing Encrid, the noble deliberately curled his lips into a sneer.
“A company commander? How utterly absurd. I don’t know what kind of trick you played on Marcus, but it was a mistake.”
Hmm, if it were Rem, he probably would have split this guy’s skull with an axe the moment he spoke.
Actually, his fist probably would have flown at ‘Out of my way.’
He could only pray that the noble would never say such things to Rem. The man looked like he’d be right at home among ghouls. Slanted eyes, thin lips—it was the face of someone who had lived a life of pure malice. While looks didn’t always tell the whole story, this bastard seemed to live a life that perfectly matched his face. In fact, rumors to that effect were rampant.
Luagarne would definitely recoil at that face.
The Frok cared about appearances—human appearances, at that. What a peculiar race. And yet, hadn’t that Frok said she was smitten with him?
“Hmph.”
The noble strutted past. Perhaps he had business in the market, as he headed toward the castle gates. He was someone who had always made his dislike of Encrid obvious. It was nothing new, so Encrid remained unfazed.
Instead, a nearby fruit merchant muttered under his breath.
“Arrogant prick. I hope he dies of a rotted gut.”
Well, that’s a creative curse.
By the way, what was that bastard’s name again? He had heard it before, but there was no real need to remember it. He just had to make sure the man never crossed paths with Rem.
“I wonder what our superior-assaulting criminal is up to.”
Encrid hummed a little tune to his own muttering as he returned to the barracks.
Rem blurted out something completely out of the blue the moment he saw him.
“You don’t happen to have another guy like Andrew lying around, do you?”
“Hmm?”
“My hands have been feeling a bit restless lately.”
This was dangerous. It was a clear sign of Rem’s pent-up frustration.
“Sparring?”
It was time to put out the fire quickly. It turned out to be a brutal session—brutal enough that Encrid had to recklessly tap into his Heart of Monstrous Strength.
“Nice bracers you’ve got there.”
Rem noticed the change in his gear. He had sharp eyes.
“And that sword doesn’t look ordinary either, does it?”
“Just picked it up on the way.”
After ending their spar with casual banter, evening arrived, and Encrid’s entire body was aching. Had he pushed himself this hard during a spar recently? At any rate, it successfully relieved Rem’s frustration.
“I think I’ll sleep well tonight.”
Rem had been acting uncharacteristically brooding lately, agonizing over whether to become a knight or not, but now he seemed perfectly fine.
“Yeah, sleep well.”
Later that evening, Audin finished his usual prayers and called out to Encrid.
“Brother Commander.”
“What is it?”
“Would you like to go on a night patrol with me?”
The bear-like man smiled gently. Despite his massive build, his smile was incredibly mild. Looking at him like this, Audin could probably charm quite a few women if he actually set his mind to it. He could see why Krais was so eager to recruit him into his "salon."
“How about becoming a priest of the night?” Krais had practically poked and prodded him with such suggestions.
Yet Audin merely smiled. He didn’t even bother to answer, as if it wasn’t worth his time.
In any case, it seemed Audin had something to say. Or perhaps he literally just wanted a walk.
“Sure, let’s do that.”
Encrid had been feeling a bit self-conscious in the barracks anyway, since his unit had been exempted from all duties under the guise of being an “independent company.” Thus, this patrol was closer to a leisurely stroll.
“There is a passage in the Holy Scripture that says, ‘A day of steady building is more precious than a day of overexertion.’ What this means is...”
A sermon. His usual sermon. Sometimes, Audin talked far too much, especially when it came to scripture.
Is Finn really okay with this?
“How are things with Finn?” Encrid asked. He knew Audin was pursuing her.
“I am currently working hard to convert our sister.”
So he’s trying to instill religious values in the woman he wants to bed? It certainly suited Audin, but that had to be quite a blow to a woman’s pride. Though, despite that, Finn always seemed to have a bright expression on her face.
“My point is this. It is better to train your body at a moderate pace rather than overexerting yourself, Brother Commander.”
He certainly never forgot to use the new title. Encrid nodded. He understood. Lately, he had indeed been pushing his body as if he were being chased.
How should he put it?
It feels like it’s within reach, yet I can’t quite grasp it.
Swinging his sword, using his Heart of Monstrous Strength... in the midst of all that, the desire to take things one step further had bred a sense of impatience. Just because he didn’t know despair didn’t mean he was immune to feeling rushed. He hadn’t intentionally overworked himself, but one's mindset altered their actions.
It was a good lesson.
“I suppose so.”
“Indeed.”
If he found a piece of advice reasonable, he immediately accepted it. This was Encrid’s greatest strength.
However...
You must have no conscience. To think you of all people are saying this.
Who was the one who claimed breaking his limits every day was his job, using the Isolation Technique as an excuse?
“What you do under my supervision is not overexertion; it is the perfect amount.”
Encrid had spoken with his eyes, but Audin answered with his mouth.
“I feel like my thoughts are becoming too easy to read lately.”
“Because you show them so openly.”
Encrid let out a chuckle. Audin smiled as well.
As they walked along the gallery, a few soldiers they recognized saluted them.
“It’s just an unscheduled patrol. Carry on.”
The territory was peaceful. Safe. No matter what happened around them, these walls would protect them.
Did someone tell me to love the territory?
With the moonlight at his back, he looked down at the land shrouded in darkness. From atop the gallery, the world stretched out beneath his feet. The chirping of summer insects filled his ears.
I don't know about loving it...
...but at the very least, he wouldn’t just stand by and watch these people die.
Protect the weak.
It was the very first tenet of chivalry. Some might call it a mere excuse for knights to wield power, but...
...if you possess power and do not use it properly, you are nothing but a brute.
Encrid’s dream was not to be a brute. The moonlight warmed him. He did not believe he could become a knight overnight; there was still a long road left to walk. He had Will. He believed there was still more to learn.
Before that, he also needed time to fully digest what he already possessed. Just because he had learned a new style of swordsmanship didn’t mean he would neglect his previous training.
There is still room for improvement.
He was lost in thought, intoxicated by the moonlight, when his ears twitched.
“Something’s coming.”
Audin reacted as well. Right behind them, a pungent, wild stench wafted through the air as something scrambled up the castle wall with a rapid clack-clack-clack.
“Roaaar!”
It was the roar of a demonic beast. It carried a force that shook a person to their very core.
“U-Uh...”
The soldier standing directly in front of it froze in terror.
Even before Encrid could move, a bear leaped across the moonlight. A highly skilled and incredibly swift bear.
It was Audin.
“Roar!”
The opponent was a manticore. A high-grade demonic beast with the tail of a scorpion and the body of a lion. It could paralyze prey with its roar alone, and a single graze from its tail would send a victim straight to the afterlife. It was a creature that even an average company-sized force was advised not to engage.
A manticore was a living nightmare to an ordinary soldier.
“Easy, kitty. All this noise at night will wake the neighbors.”
Hearing Audin soothe such a monster so gently made the manticore’s threat level seem to plummet instantly to that of a stray cat. The beast lowered its stance. Audin stood relaxed, merely raising both hands, palms half-visible.
Meanwhile, Encrid grabbed the frozen soldier by the scruff of his neck and pulled him back.
“Take a deep breath, exhale, and move. Slowly focus your strength, starting from your fingertips.”
“U-Uh, yes, sir!”
Encrid calmly instructed the soldier on how to break free from the paralyzing pressure. Another guard gripped his whistle, ready to blow.
“Hold on.”
Encrid signaled him to stop with a sharp look, not wanting to draw the beast's attention. The soldier faithfully obeyed.
“Fall back.”
While Encrid cleared the gallery... the manticore moved.
It lunged forward, slicing through the moonlight, and swung its forepaw. It was fast—truly a high-grade beast. It leaped lightly, leaving a faint afterimage. Encrid’s eyes tracked its every movement.
Audin narrowly dodged the paw before throwing a left hook.
Ah.
Encrid marveled. It was a perfect dodge followed by a counter. It aligned perfectly with the swordsmanship he had recently learned.
Step back to draw the opponent in, then twist your body to secure space and strike. It is possible if you anticipate the attack.
Luagarne’s teachings flashed through his mind, overlapping perfectly with Audin’s movements. Audin pivoted, and his fist slammed squarely into the manticore’s jaw.
Thud!
A satisfying sound, like a leather drum being struck, echoed clearly. The beast crashed to the ground, sliding sideways.
Grrr!
The beast let out a pained growl.
“Come here. You need a good thrashing.”
From then on, Audin became like a teacher scolding a misbehaving child. The only difference was that his opponent was a monster capable of wiping out an entire company.
The rest of the scene looked just like a typical day, filled with admonishments and sermons.