Chapter 200: A Clever Response
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 200: A Clever Response
Encrid raised his head and recognized his opponent. In that brief moment—
"Kill them all!" shouted the man leading the "gift package." He was a sharp-eyed bastard.
The moment the order was given, the man turned and bolted. Encrid, annoyed by the cowardice, immediately gave chase.
"Handle the rest yourselves," Encrid tossed the words over his shoulder as he dashed forward.
By activating the Heart of Monstrous Strength, he could mimic the explosive dash the Associate Knight had shown him. Having just witnessed it, he felt that if he added a touch of precision to the movement, he could run even faster and longer.
Executing what his mind conceived through his body—the process was different than before. It was clumsy at first, but he quickly found the rhythm. He couldn't say he was fully used to it yet, but it no longer felt entirely foreign.
Encrid pursued the fleeing man. Catching him was easy; the man was clumsily forcing his way through thick bushes, trees, and briars.
When cornered, the man finally fought back. He handled his arming sword with surprising competence, utilizing a technique-oriented style. If one had to classify it, it would fall under the Illusion Sword category of Jeong-Jung-Hwan-Kwae-Yu, but...
‘It’s worse than the Valen-style Mercenary Sword.’
The man mixed in several feints, aiming for a thrust as his finishing blow. But if that was his intent, a Double Draw would have been far more effective. In terms of pure technique, Encrid felt the beastman named Dunchabel was his superior.
Not that the man was completely incompetent. Dunchabel was crude; her techniques lacked form and meaning, relying instead on clever tricks and raw strength. In contrast, this man had clearly not neglected his training, as there was no hesitation in his swings.
Still, he was no match for Encrid.
Clang! Thud! Crack!
Before the incoming sword could pull any tricks, Encrid stepped in and swung his blade, smashing the attack aside. He had already seen through the ruse; there was no need to look twice.
His sword, swung diagonally from bottom to top, caught the man’s blade and forced his chest wide open. Immediately, Encrid slammed his shoulder into the man’s solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him with a sickening wheeze.
Even then, the man’s eyes gleamed with desperation. He reached for a knife at his waist.
But Encrid, drawing his Guard Sword even as he delivered the shoulder ram, pressed the blade against the man’s chin. Combining several movements into a single breath—it was a mimicry of the talent Ragna had shown him.
As Encrid froze in place, the man let out a ragged groan. Because he had been stopped with his hand still on the knife, his left arm was pinned awkwardly backward.
"Who are you?"
When there was no answer, Encrid slid the blade closer, drawing a bead of blood just below the Adam's apple. He saw no need to control his strength, letting the edge bite a bit deeper as if by accident. Blood began to trickle down the man's neck.
"The Black—the Black Sword Bandits! I'm from the main camp!" the man blurted out in a panic.
"The main camp? For what?"
"A patrol!"
A lie, his Sixth Sense whispered. Encrid didn't even bother to narrow his eyes.
"Just in case, I have to ask: do you have any intention of being honest?"
"...What?"
Probably not.
With a sharp slash, Encrid slit his throat. With a new mouth opened beneath his Adam's apple, the man's death was inevitable.
He had neither the time nor the patience for an interrogation. Even if he did, there wouldn't be any grand information to glean. The situation was already clear enough; what did the main camp of the Black Sword Bandits matter now?
Encrid pushed the body away to avoid the spurting blood and turned back.
*
When he returned to the site of the skirmish, the outcome was settled.
They had fought, and they had won. It was only natural for corpses to be strewn about after a victory. The surrounding area was littered with bodies. Only three had survived, and they had been corralled to one side.
Encrid immediately began looting the dead bandits' pockets. Rem and Ragna did the same. If there was anything worth taking, leaving it behind would be a waste.
They gathered wrist-mounted arrow launchers, poison sand, half-eaten bread, a few silver coins, some copper coins, and various small blades. Every weapon the bandits held could be turned into Krona.
However, carrying all of it would leave them short-handed. Stuffing everything into a single backpack and hauling it back would make for a grueling journey, as the weight was considerable. Besides, it wouldn't all fit.
"You carry it."
"Do you want to die?"
He could hear Ragna and Rem bickering as they assessed the haul.
"Stop."
After silencing the two, Encrid looked at the three bandits they had intentionally left alive. He casually asked one of them, "So. Is the main force completely wiped out?"
Of the three bandits, one was weeping, utterly broken. The other two were darting their eyes around, clearly the quick-witted sort. There were three mouths—more than enough to get the truth.
"Yes, milord. It's all over. Looking back from the trail, the camp was burning fiercely. It looked like someone set it on fire," the man spoke while sweating profusely.
The weather was moderately humid, and it looked like it would rain today or tomorrow.
‘It probably won't spread into a major forest fire.’
He hadn't expected them to launch such a full-scale raid, but he knew whose handiwork it was. The Border Guard. They wouldn't be so careless as to let a fire get out of control.
"And you guys?"
"Someone from the main camp said we'd be ruined at this rate, and that some of us had to survive to deliver the message..." He trailed off.
It sounded like they had fled without even drawing their swords. There was no blood on their weapons, and judging by how drenched in sweat they were, the truth was obvious. Encrid guessed these three were likely the only survivors. The few who had scattered deeper into the forest would likely just end up as a meal for the monsters.
"You managed to make it all the way here, though."
"There's a shortcut!" the two quick-witted ones spoke in rapid succession, barely taking a breath.
The Black Sword Bandits were those who nested in the mountains, enduring monster attacks. If they went to the wilderness and rode horses, they would be bandits; if they went to the sea and boarded ships, they would be pirates. But there were far more famous groups on the actual seas, and on the vast plains of the East, half-baked bandits couldn't survive. In reality, the Black Sword was the largest bandit group inland. Having lived in this area for so long, they knew the paths inside out.
"I know the roads like the back of my hand!" As Encrid showed interest in the paths, the other bandit quickly chimed in. "That beastman bitch doesn't know anything! She's a stupid wench who still thinks she's a mercenary..."
Encrid ignored the useless babble. "Let's go to the territory and talk."
They would be handed over to the authorities. From there, they would either be executed or locked up and whipped.
"Ah..." One of the bandits let out a short groan. It was a sigh born of the realization that his end would be far from a comedy.
"P-please..."
Since he pleaded so desperately, Encrid decided to show some mercy. "Should I end it for you here?"
The bandit's eyes shook violently. "No, sir."
Afterward, they finished looting. Lacking proper bags, they tore and tied some of the dead men's clothes together, stuffing all the weapons and salvaged items inside.
Next came the time for shoveling.
"You dig, too."
Meanwhile, Ragna cut the rope around Dunchabel's wrists. That had been the agreement from the start. They would release her once the job was done.
Encrid didn't pay much attention to the beastman. By the time the three remaining bandits finished digging the holes and burying the corpses, the sun had already set.
Should they camp? No, he didn't think that was necessary.
"Let's march through the night."
"Let's do that."
"Yes."
With Rem and Ragna's agreement, they set off on their return journey.
They loaded their gear onto a carriage they found along the way. However, since there were no horses, the three criminals had to pull it instead. At this point, it was less of a horse carriage and more of a human-drawn cart.
Rumble, rumble.
The three criminals panted heavily as they hauled the carriage along the rough road in the dead of night. Dunchabel pushed it from behind.
Encrid thought that the beastman woman could leave now if she wanted to. She lacked the typical gloominess found in other bandits. Her attitude of purely yearning for life was, frankly, quite impressive.
But that didn't change anything. He had agreed to let her go, so he would. That was all. He didn't care about the beastman named Dunchabel beyond that.
There was something more urgent. He had questions to ask Marcus once they returned to the unit.
*
The journey back to the territory took twice as long as the trip out. They had lost their horses and gained a significant amount of baggage.
When they finally stood before the territory's gates:
"Who goes there!" shouted a soldier from the gallery. It wasn't just a shout; three archers could be seen aiming their arrows at them. They seemed several times more tense than usual.
"I am Encrid, Company Commander of the Independent Company."
When he identified himself, a torch flickered above, followed by a voice.
"Is that you?"
It was Vengeance's voice. Soon, the side gate next to the main gate opened. Since the carriage couldn't fit through, they were unloading the goods when Vengeance walked down.
"What... is all this? Where did you raid? Did you go highway robbing?"
"Not robbery. Just a counterattack against robbers."
The victor takes the spoils. It was common sense. Though the amount seemed a bit much for mere spoils, it wasn't a lie.
Vengeance tilted his head at Encrid's words. Now was not the time to explain everything that had happened.
"Why is everyone so tense?" Encrid asked.
He had only been away from the territory for a single full day. With dawn about to break, it had been barely twenty-four hours, yet a strange tension hung over the territory.
"You're going straight to the Battalion Commander, right? Hear the details inside." Vengeance didn't offer a detailed explanation either. It was as if he was refusing to speak because Encrid hadn't shared his story yet.
"Petty bastard," Encrid chuckled and walked inside. Rem and Ragna followed closely behind him.
As they entered, Rem handed over the three bandits. "Do as you wish with them."
"Who are they?"
"Black Sword Bandits."
Why was that name coming up here?
While Vengeance blinked in confusion, the white-haired beastman quietly followed behind Rem and Ragna.
Was it okay to let her go? Since no one said anything, it was probably fine.
After sending Encrid's group on their way, Vengeance turned to his subordinate and asked in a serious, solemn tone, "Am I petty?"
The subordinate swallowed hard. Honesty was a virtue, but sometimes a white lie was an even greater one.
"No, sir. You are broad-minded—no, average."
He couldn't bring himself to say "broad-minded." That was his last shred of conscience. After all, it was obvious he was narrow-minded and petty, considering he envied Company Commander Encrid just because Encrid was popular with women.
"Right? I'm not really that petty, am I?"
The subordinate nodded. It was a clever response.
*
Before the Battalion Commander, Encrid voiced the question he had been harboring.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Even if he had known, nothing bad would have happened. In fact, wouldn't it have allowed for a more proactive response?
At his question, Marcus widened his eyes. His gaze seemed to ask how Encrid could even wonder. Then, he spoke.
"Company Commander Encrid, you're a terrible actor."
Had he been watching Encrid's acting all this time? No, that couldn't be it. He was likely just judging by Encrid's usual speech and attitude, but the moment Encrid heard it, he couldn't help but agree inwardly.
‘To deceive the enemy, first deceive your allies.’
It was a basic strategy.
"What if I had run into danger?"
"Didn't you say you were taking Rem and Ragna with you?"
A brief silence ensued. True, it wasn't a situation that would put him in that much danger.
"Why is the atmosphere in the territory like this?" Encrid smoothly changed the subject, and the answer came from the Elf Company Commander, who had slipped into the room at some point.
"There were two scouts, four attempts by suspected spies to scale the walls, and three attempts to pass through the gates in disguise."
These hadn't all happened in a single day. The commander was summarizing the events of the past few days.
"Who did it?"
"Do I really need to spell it out for you?"
At the Elf Company Commander's counter-question, Encrid stopped playing dumb and answered.
"Martai."
Marcus reacted to the answer. "Yes. Martai has declared war."
Was it impeccable timing? No, they had probably been waiting for this moment and made their move before it was too late.
In just one day, the biggest crisis had struck the territory. Once again, it was war.
This time, it wasn't a war against another country, but a conflict between territories. A clash between Martai and the Border Guard. Under these circumstances, even if the capital had the leeway to send reinforcements, they wouldn't.
Justifications could be manufactured, and since Martai wasn't run by fools, they would have already sent a plausible pretext.
"They forged documents claiming the Border Guard has been Martai's territory since the time of our predecessors," Marcus said with a chuckle. It was a laugh laced with annoyance at the absurdity of the enemy's pretext.
"So, we sent the exact same thing back to them." The Elf Company Commander said they had paid them back in kind. They had forged documents claiming Martai belonged to them as well.
One might as well call it a war of forged documents.
While thinking that it was indeed a clever response, Encrid was about to wonder why they were sharing such details with him when—
"I look forward to seeing your performance on the battlefield," Marcus said. The expectation in his eyes was... how to put it? It went beyond seriousness, almost like looking at an idol. Encrid didn't find that gaze particularly unpleasant.
"Let's have some fun," the Elf Company Commander said, adding a typical elven joke. "Should we call it the Newlywed War?"
"Is the Battalion Commander getting married again?" Encrid fired back with a human-style retort, and Marcus burst into a hearty laugh.
A man with a schemer hidden behind his nickname of "Warmonger." That man seemed to have no fear of the impending war. Which meant he had something to rely on.
He was curious to know what that was.
*
It was just before he entered his barracks after finishing his report on everything that had happened.
"Aren't you leaving?"
Dunchabel, who had been tagging along, stopped. She stood blankly in front of the barracks. Had no one stopped her? Discipline was a mess, especially with war right around the corner.
Encrid thought as he looked at Dunchabel. Dunchabel made up her mind and spoke.
It was a low, husky voice characteristic of beastmen, but it was unmistakably a woman's.
"I have something to say."