Chapter 29: I Want to Live, Too
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 29: I Want to Live, Too
"You’re saying we’re going deeper? This is madness."
The Grim-faced Soldier spoke, pressing close behind Encrid.
After the success of their initial ambush, the scout unit—which had transitioned from Andrew’s command to Encrid’s—had attempted two more strikes.
The second battle had been against a group of five soldiers, and in the third, they had collided with a force of over fifteen.
Both had been grueling.
In the second engagement, there had been a highly skilled bastard among the enemy ranks who nearly turned the tide. In the third, they were simply overwhelmed by numbers.
Through it all, only seven soldiers remained.
They had lost two more.
I can’t save any more of them.
No matter what he did, some things were simply impossible. Encrid knew he was no saintly savior. Repeating this day just to save the three who had already died was as absurd as gnawing on elf bones.
It was only thanks to Encrid’s performance that they had even made it this far.
Of course, his men had also fought tooth and nail. Though they survived, one had lost an eye. Andrew, too, was left with a deep slash across his face. His left cheek was wrapped in linen bandages—the kind of wound that would serve as a fine badge of honor, provided he lived to tell the tale.
Despite the mounting casualties, Encrid continued heading deeper into the field. To an observer, it looked like a reckless charge with no thought of retreat. From any rational perspective, it was indeed madness.
The Grim-faced Soldier was neither unskilled nor inexperienced. Even in the heat of battle, he hadn't lost his sense of direction. He realized Encrid was leading them straight into the heart of enemy territory.
Seeing this, Encrid nodded inwardly.
Not bad.
The man lacked the raw talent of Rem or his other former squad members, but he was still a capable soldier—the kind of man who, if he set his mind to it, could easily lead a platoon.
"From here on, we’ll be able to catch our breath," Encrid said.
The Grim-faced Soldier furrowed his brow. "That’s not what I’m talking about, is it?"
"As I said before, insubordination is—"
"Insubordination or not, if this path leads to our graves, I’ll put a blade in my squad leader’s back—or anyone else’s—to stay alive. That’s just who I am."
This bastard spits out dangerous words way too easily.
How is he going to look me in the eye if we actually make it back alive?
Even under Encrid’s steady gaze, the soldier didn’t flinch. He was shameless.
But it made sense. A man’s life came first; the mission came second. Especially for someone like him, who had joined the army for his own private reasons. To him, Andrew’s life and his own were the only priorities that mattered.
Encrid looked up to check the position of the sun, then stopped in his tracks.
Naturally, the rest of the men stopped as well. Everyone strained their ears, listening to the exchange between Encrid and the Grim-faced Soldier. As the soldiers stood there, shoulders heaving as they caught their breath, Encrid spoke.
"If we turn back now, we die anyway. Behind us is nothing but enemies, packed together like a pack of rabid wild dogs."
As he spoke, Encrid loosened his hand guards. The leather-reinforced guards were useful, but wearing them for too long made his hand muscles feel cramped and crushed. Yet, wearing them too loosely would be a death sentence in battle.
"How do you know that? They shouldn't even know we're here, so how could they have blocked our retreat already?"
The Grim-faced Soldier watched Encrid loosen his gear, his brow furrowing deeper. He clearly loathed Encrid’s calm, unbothered attitude.
Encrid had already faced this exact moment dozens of times. He had repeated this day dozens of times.
The enemy was numerous, and the moment they confirmed an ambush, they would inevitably cut off the retreat with relentless persistence. He didn't know who their commander was, but whoever it was, they were desperately determined to keep their presence here a secret.
It was always the same.
Crouched low amidst the tall grass, his men looked anxious. Though they had followed him blindly until now, listening to the conversation made them feel as if they were standing in the center of a slaughterhouse. Even so, no one stepped forward. They merely kept their ears perked.
Encrid glanced up again, calculating the time. In three or four hours, darkness would fall. Then, a way out would open.
But before that, he had to convince them. It would be easy to suppress them by force, but they weren't the kind of men who would respond well to that. Nor was this a problem that could be solved through coercion. Driving them with aggression had reached its limit.
Ambush, retreat, ambush.
He had driven his squad relentlessly to get them this far, but now was the time to wait. And because they had to wait, these doubts were bound to surface.
There was no need for a grand speech, though.
"Don't you realize it's already too late, now that we've come this far?"
He was right. Too much time had passed. Turning back now would be the real madness.
The Grim-faced Soldier pursed his lips. What kind of crazy bastard is this? He looked as if he wanted to scream it. But instead, his eyes darted around before he asked, "You have a plan, right?"
Encrid looked into his eyes, then made eye contact with each of the surrounding men. Enri, Andrew—all of them. Their eyes were filled with doubt and anxiety. Now that they had caught their breath, they had room to think. And that room allowed them to start questioning.
They must have known it was already too late.
Encrid had no intention of explaining with logic. In truth, he couldn't even if he wanted to. How could he explain that he had seen the future by repeating this day? That they had to listen to him unconditionally to end this cycle and reach tomorrow?
They would never believe him.
Therefore, there was only one thing he could say.
"I want to live, too."
It was a short sentence, but it contained everything. It meant he wasn't on a suicide mission. The desire to live—was that something only they possessed? He made sure everyone understood that he felt the same way.
Of course, if Encrid died, he would just repeat the day again.
But I will not stagnate.
No matter who the ferryman of that river was. No matter how high and solid the wall erected before him was. He had no intention of stopping. To Encrid, this repeating day was a mountain to climb, an obstacle to conquer.
Therefore...
"Trust me. This isn't a path to death."
Skipping any further explanation, he would win their trust. Based on that trust, even if he had to twist the day itself, he would escape this loop and greet tomorrow.
The desire to live, the exhaustion of battle, the anxiety that crept in once the adrenaline faded—in such a situation, it was human nature to grasp at straws. To these men, Encrid’s brief words instilled a profound sense of trust. He wanted to live too, so he told them to trust him.
Moreover, they instinctively knew there was no other way. What could they possibly do right now? The enemy was crawling all over the tall grass, searching high and low. There was no visible way out. In times like this, trusting someone was the only option left.
"I... I really want to live," Enri muttered.
Starting with those words, the men looked at Encrid and nodded. The Grim-faced Soldier was the most level-headed among them, but even he had no other solution.
Andrew, of all people, was the most deeply moved. Setting aside skill, Encrid seemed like a man of complete character. Didn't the current Encrid closely resemble the man Andrew had always dreamed of becoming?
Resolute even in a situation like this.
Never giving up, earning everyone’s trust. How magnificent.
"I... I trust you too."
And so, Andrew spoke. Before he knew it, he had even switched to respectful speech. It didn't even feel awkward. A warm heat seemed to rise from the allies, reaching Encrid.
"Then, everyone..."
Feeling the weight of their gazes, Encrid spoke.
"From now on, until you get my signal, lie flat like moles and don't make a sound."
Now that he had earned their trust, it was time to use it. He led by example, pressing himself flat against the ground and holding his breath. Everyone followed suit. They might have wondered why they were hiding instead of running, but they had just shared a moment of connection. This was the moment to give him at least five minutes of absolute trust.
The Grim-faced Soldier watched a grass bug hop right over his nose and disappear, utterly dumbfounded.
This bastard is an incredibly shrewd operator.
His ability to handle people was extraordinary. Was this how he managed that troublemaker squad? It was a natural thought to have.
Rustle.
Just then, the sound of grass being trampled reached their ears. Everyone began to breathe with extreme caution. They could sense a human presence nearby. It wasn't very close, but the tall grass was like a dense thicket; unless someone came right up to you, it was hard to spot anyone. It was an excellent place to hide.
The loud rustling of grass echoed around them. The direction of the sound flowed from front to back. Though the stationary men couldn't see what was happening... if a bird flying above the field had witnessed the scene, it would have seen an astonishing sight.
With Encrid’s group at the center, the grass all around them swayed and surged. Every single person moving was an enemy. However, while they moved, they completely avoided the spot where Encrid’s squad lay hidden.
The place where Encrid had stopped was like an uninhabited island—the sole safe zone amidst a sea of enemy soldiers. Even with the greatest luck, one could not simply find such a gap in the enemy’s movement patterns. It was as if the Goddess of Fortune hadn't just blown them a kiss, but had poured out every blessing she possessed.
Of course, this was no mere luck. It was a trick learned through repeating this day to the point of madness.
As the rustling sounds faded and the enemy’s positions could no longer be heard, Encrid spoke again.
"We move again. All forces, advance in single file."
It was time to move. Encrid uncurled his body and walked slowly until the numbness in his legs faded. As he did, he thought about how incredibly useful the Five Senses Training he had learned from Sachsen was.
Estimating distance and judging direction solely by sound. It wasn't a skill one could acquire through ordinary training, but Encrid had learned it by repeatedly offering his neck to assassins, and by repeating today in the grass until he could distinguish every footfall.
The second objective is cleared.
Repeating the cycle of ambush and retreat, then letting the enemy pass them by. That was the second core part of the escape he had envisioned. Now, only the final, third part remained.
And that required the help of time.
Once the numbness in his legs subsided, he picked up the pace. Instead of voicing complaints, everyone followed him closely. Inwardly, they were all astonished. No matter how they looked at it, the area was crawling with enemies, yet he was avoiding them flawlessly.
Come to think of it, the pattern of their battles so far had been bizarre as well. It was as if he knew exactly where the enemies were before launching his attacks. Every single battle had begun with their ambush.
Thanks to that, they were able to fight with the upper hand. In all of those battles, Encrid had stood at the very front, putting on a mad performance. He looked like a man who disregarded his own life. Every squad member knew that Encrid had fought with his life on the line. They knew he had taken the greatest risks at the very front.
Amidst the silent grass, a strange heat rose once more—the heat of a flame blooming in the chests of his surviving allies.
Encrid did not feel that heat. Instead, he only thought of what came next.
Up to this point...
It had been smooth sailing. To be honest, it hadn't been difficult. Nor should it have been. He had already experienced "today" up to this point over fifty times. This was only a natural result.
Then why had he been forced to repeat this day over fifty times?
It was all because of the operation that came next.
His side was few, and the enemy was many. Their intentions were unknown. Only one thing was certain: the enemy commander had no intention of letting a single person who approached this place leave alive.
The first few times, he had grit his teeth and tried to break through to secure a retreat. Naturally, he had failed every single time. Would the help of his squad members change that outcome? Not a chance.
After that, he shifted his thinking.
What if something more troublesome than catching us were to happen?
The sun was setting. The glow of twilight began to settle, casting an orange hue over everything. As the sunset illuminated the tall grass, it felt as if they had stepped into a glowing orange lake. At least for now, this place should be called Orangepearl instead of Greenpearl.
The sky was exceptionally clear, and the light cast by the sinking sun was warmer than ever. The sun quickly vanished beyond the west, and darkness arrived.
It was time to claim the third objective of the way out Encrid had chosen.