Chapter 337: Performing Tricks with Ghouls?
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 337: Performing Tricks with Ghouls?
"When do we march?" Encrid asked.
"There's no rush."
It will probably take at least a fortnight, Krais thought.
The gray ghouls were monsters that had occupied that territory for a long time. Leaving them there for another month or two wouldn't cause any major issues.
"Understood."
"How many troops do you think we should take?"
Krais expected at least two companies. It was an operation of that scale.
Encrid thought for a moment, then replied, "A single independent company."
"...An independent company?"
Currently, there was only one independent company within the Border Guard: The Mad Company.
Is this bastard actually insane?
This wasn't a joke; Encrid was dead serious.
The low risk level was only because they could prepare accordingly. Now that the threat of Azpen was gone, it was possible. Until now, they couldn't freely deploy troops because of those Azpen bastards.
While the increase in non-standard combat-ready personnel—including Encrid—was one reason, the more obvious reason was that they finally had the breathing room to do so.
All of Krais's bewilderment and emotion escaped in a single syllable. "Huh?"
Was there any reason to be surprised? Encrid had already dismantled gnoll and centaur colonies.
If there was no need for defensive forces or protecting a village, then...
Dealing with a monster colony was surprisingly easy. This was the answer he had obtained through accumulated experience.
Cut off the head, and it's over.
It was a simple principle, and a true one.
In fact, even the scholars who had half a brain considered eliminating the leader as the best way to deal with the Land of the Gray Ghouls.
So, what was needed? At least the strength of an order of knights. It would be even better if a knight came personally. That was the ideal solution.
However, the area wasn't suffering severe damage right now; it was merely an inconvenience. The royal palace's stance was to resolve it only when they had spare resources. Therefore, there was no way an order of knights would be sent.
The royal palace turned a blind eye to the issue, but Krais couldn't. The situation had changed.
Detouring the trade route was a loss. A big loss. A colossal deficit. For the Border Guard, it was a problem that absolutely had to be resolved.
For the sake of the future, they had to pave and polish the trade route, and Krais had already come up with several ways to do so.
Krona are bleeding away.
It was common sense: the longer the transport took, the more silver coins leaked away.
So, they had to resolve it.
This task would elevate Encrid's prestige even further, especially since it coincided with a request from the royal palace. In other words, this was an operation that absolutely had to succeed and be handled with stability, but...
"Are you serious?"
"Dead serious."
"Why?"
"Because that's enough."
"You didn't hit your head during sparring, did you?"
"By the way, why do you keep speaking so casually to me?"
"It's because I was too shocked. Shocked."
When will this bastard ever become normal?
Encrid smacked Krais on the head for his disrespectful gaze.
"That hurts."
"I could have split your skull instead."
That was likely no lie. Krais endured the pain.
Only the Mad Company would go. Ah, well, it'll work out, right?
The one going in person was Encrid. It was the commander's judgment.
Krais could roughly understand the reasoning. If they increased the scale and led a large force, there would be casualties. People would get hurt or die. That was a given.
Was that the only reason? Not quite. Before he knew it, a faint, burning passion flickered in Encrid's eyes.
He's just dying for a fight. Krais felt a strange certainty.
Encrid asked, "And a request came from the capital too?"
"It was a close call, but yes. It arrived."
The royal palace had just been a convenient excuse, but an actual request had arrived. Along with a letter.
[Wishing you victory.]
Those three words were all it said. It was from Marcus, the former Castellan.
"He must be busy."
Encrid didn't bother writing a reply. That was the end of it.
Everyone inspected their gear and packed supplies, while Krais did what little preparation he could in the meantime. It took a mere two days to complete the preparations for departure.
An operation that would have taken at least ten days to prepare if they were sending a full-scale force had become incredibly simple. Krais wondered if this was really okay, but strangely, no ominous thoughts crossed his mind.
Furthermore, not even the entire company was going.
"Do we really have to go?" Ragna asked with droopy eyes while they were preparing to march. He seemed to be turning more and more into an old puppy.
"If you're still tired no matter how much you sleep, just drop dead," Rem offered his "blessing." "If you want to die, come at me anytime. You can even ambush me while I'm asleep. Not that it'll work, though."
Ragna politely declined the blessing.
"Do you really need a bastard like that?" Rem asked.
Encrid thought for a moment. As long as the tactic of a small, elite strike force remained viable, it would be fine. The most important thing Ragna had to do during the battle was not get lost.
"Rest."
Encrid left Ragna behind.
What if the level of the gray ghouls was high enough to warrant calling a knight?
That would be fun too.
Encrid always thirsted for new challenges. This task was like a sudden downpour on parched, drought-stricken land. He didn't worry about the danger or the aftermath.
The worrying was Krais's job.
Krais gathered and analyzed information on the surrounding area, grasping the value of the Forest of the Gray Ghouls—now a ruined forest. He concluded that the colony leader hiding inside wasn't as threatening as they thought.
A ghoul that gained intelligence while leading a colony.
It was a creature that directly defied the old adage, "You have the brain of a ghoul."
A ghoul that used its head. Why would such a creature hide and live in the forest? What was the reason? Because food was abundant? Because the monster's violent nature had been neutered?
Nonsense.
It was because it had gained intelligence and knew that fighting recklessly would lead to defeat. That was why it held the high ground and held out. Krais judged that this was the true nature of the gray ghoul.
Well, if things go south, they'll find a way out on their own.
He had previously seen Encrid navigate traps using nothing but intuition. It was only natural that his trust in him grew.
*
Two days later.
On the day of departure, Sinar joined them.
"Aren't you busy?"
"I am an elf."
What she meant was that she couldn't stand by and watch monsters defile the forest.
Elves loved the forest. Plants showed no turbulent emotions, but they were brimming with vitality. Such forest vitality replenished a certain power within an elf's body. It was said that bathing in the forest's energy could heal even fatal wounds—assuming the forest was healthy and lush.
"In the name of the elves, I will not forgive them."
Encrid nodded at her dry, emotionless determination. No matter how he looked at it, her steps didn't seem to be for the sake of preserving the forest's peace, but she was still more than qualified to be a blade in their elite strike force.
"Well then."
After traveling for a day by carriage, they secured a campsite, laid down stones, set up the pot, and prepared their sleeping quarters. Up to this point, the single escort squad that accompanied them took care of the campsite, lit the fires, and stood watch.
On their way, they encountered three ghouls.
"I'll take them."
Led by a soldier who had followed them from Greenpearl, the squad-sized force engaged them. They said the ghoul population had increased with the arrival of spring, and indeed, they were now visible even on the main road. Rumors also circulated that the path had become much rougher for traveling merchants.
"Hah!"
The soldiers' spirited shouts rang out. Without a single scratch on the men, the three ghouls collapsed to the ground.
They decapitated the first and second ghouls, severed the legs of the third, and then crushed its skull by throwing stones from a distance. The third ghoul was nimbler than the other two. Not all monsters were the same; individual differences existed.
The squad's tactics, which took this into account, were impressive. Two relatively outstanding soldiers bought time by thrusting their spears at the nimble ghoul. Their short spear and shield armaments proved effective.
Encrid assessed that the squad's combat capability wasn't bad.
If only they master the basics a bit more.
Since the "basics" in his mind started with running alongside the River of Death... Though they would actually be running on the plains of Greenpearl, it was the kind of training where they would eventually see the River of Death if they kept running.
This was certainly not good news for them.
After sleeping for the night and detouring for a few days, they approached the Land of the Gray Ghouls. Everyone, including the squad members, marched well.
"We will head back now, sir."
Encrid nodded at the commander who offered a military salute.
After sending the troops back, Encrid surveyed the surroundings. They settled in a clearing in front of the forest, which exuded a gloomy, eerie aura.
"Let's head in tomorrow morning."
Fighting monsters at night was foolish.
"Agreed," Rem replied.
No matter how confident they were in their skills, why take unnecessary risks? Just for the sake of a single night's camp? Encrid did no such thing.
The next day, as soon as the sun rose, Encrid, Rem, Audin, Dunchabel, Teresa, and Sinar stepped into the Land of the Gray Ghouls.
*
A thin layer of fog obscured their vision, and the grayish trees narrowed their line of sight once more. Beyond that, a sour, musty odor and damp air drifted through the fog.
"This place looks like you'd catch a disease just by breathing," Rem said, stepping on the gray fallen leaves with a rustle.
He was right.
The breath inhaled through the nose traveled down the airway and reached the lungs. In the process, their sensitivity, honed by sensory techniques, caught something turbid mixed in the air. It was a place where poison would accumulate in the body if one stayed too long.
A ghoul that uses its head, indeed.
There had to be a reason it chose this place as its stronghold. If not, it might have transformed the environment after making it its base. Naturally, they had already known this before coming. They wouldn't have come without at least that much information.
However, the poison was thicker than expected. A sickly person would likely contract a lung disease in less than two days.
Of course, the exceptionally healthy Encrid and the rest of the company members could camp here for an entire month and, at worst, feel some discomfort, but they would never fall ill. Backed by their immense stamina and physical strength, their health was far beyond the realm of ordinary humans.
"Grrrraaaah!"
They had barely inhaled the ominous air a few times before ghouls burst out.
Using his sound-based sixth sense, Encrid knew there were six opponents. They lunged through the trees, kicking off the ground with force. Since Encrid was at the front, he naturally took a step forward.
Ting.
With his left thumb, he pushed up the latch securing the sword to its scabbard. Then, gripping the hilt with his right hand, he opened his senses even wider.
Nostrils that looked like two flat holes, dark gray skin, well-developed leg muscles, and long arms. The claws at the ends of those arms curved forward; if allowed to dig into flesh, they would surely tear away a significant chunk of meat. Pitch-black eyes—eyes without pupils—drew black lines through the gray forest.
Seeing all of this and hearing the sound of their charge, he calculated the speed of the rushing ghouls within the domain of his sixth sense.
He didn't need the fastest sword, a flowing sword, or even a heavy sword. Encrid believed the silver weapon in his hand would do its job perfectly. Moreover, since he had come to hunt the king of the gray ghouls, he intended to conserve his strength.
Optimal movement and minimal trajectory. What was needed for that was thought acceleration.
With the quickness of his thoughts—the speed of his thinking—increasing, Encrid's orthodox sword forms had advanced to another level. No, it didn't stop at mere advancement. Rem's beast-like instinct, which surpassed nature, perfectly captured what Encrid lacked and helped him develop it through sparring.
Encrid, too, was well aware of his own shortcomings.
"You only improve when you recognize your own deficiencies."
Those were the words of a mercenary he had met in the city. Though the man wasn't a swordsmanship instructor, he had offered plenty of practical advice on real combat, which had proven highly beneficial.
Encrid had tested and experimented with the fragments of combat and life wisdom he gathered, turning them into experience. He had always done so. This time was no different. It was the same when he experienced the sword of a knight and sparred with Rem and the others. Encrid focused heavily on filling in his gaps.
It was time to show the results.
Three from the left, two from the right, and one kicked off the ground to leap upward.
Crack!
The sound of the ghouls snapping the thin branches blocking their path echoed, and in an instant, their claws and grayish bodies filled his vision.
Encrid's hands and feet moved.
As always, it started with the feet. Pivoting on his left foot, he drew his sword with his right hand. The one pouncing from above was first.
He marked point after point. Then, he smoothly connected all those points into lines.
Thud! Slash, rip, stab, thud!
After splitting the pouncing ghoul vertically, he added strength to his left hand while pushing his right hand to the left. Retrieving his extended right hand, he swung his sword to his left.
The extending blade caught the heads of two ghouls, slicing them diagonally. For the first one caught, the cut went from its right eye through its skull; for the second, the top of its head was sheared off. Black blood and brains splattered into the air.
Meanwhile, Encrid shifted his pivot to his right foot, twisted his body slightly, drew his gladius with his right hand, thrust twice in rapid succession to the right, and then twisted his wrist to strike the remaining ghoul's head with the flat of the blade.
It was a sequence of complex movements, yet every single action occurred within a single breath. As if prearranged, the precise movements, honed through repetitive training, flowed seamlessly without a single pause.
Sparring so much has been a huge help.
Among the ways to train orthodox sword forms, experience was prioritized above all else. And experience was the one thing he did not lack. On top of that, he had piled sparring and relentless effort.
It was thanks to this that Encrid was able to display his fourth swordsmanship style here.
The first was the Sword of the Snake. The second was the Lightning Thrust. The third was the Crushing Sword. And now was the fourth.
In a way, the battle just now made the ghouls look utterly foolish. It looked as if these stupid bastards were throwing themselves onto his blade.
It was only possible because he had forced his opponents' movements. The timing of his steps, the angle of his body, the position of his hands—everything compelled the ghouls to rush in a single direction.
Encrid named this the Capturing Sword. It was an orthodox sword form that restricted the opponent's movements.
Normally, one had to learn swordsmanship by modifying it slightly to fit their own body, but Encrid had gone far beyond that. He was continuously creating entirely new sword styles. What Encrid did naturally was, in fact, the most ideal path. For that was the path to becoming a knight, and the way to master true swordsmanship.
Watching Encrid, Rem knew that his own contribution was by no means small. Furthermore, knowing all too well how helpful these actions would be, he offered a brief word of congratulation.
"Are you performing tricks with ghouls?"
Encrid nodded at Rem's "blessing."
"Let's do more."
It was a sword style that had only just sprouted. No matter what Rem said, his desire to swing it a bit more and train it further came first.
"Leave some for me too," Dunchabel grumbled, but over the next six times ghoul hordes pounced on them, none of the other companions had any occasion to swing their weapons.