Chapter 56: A Wall Is a Wall
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 56: A Wall Is a Wall
"Think of it as lengthening your fibers, Brother."
The core of Audin's bare-handed training method was to isolate, break down, and stretch every single muscle in the body.
"Urgh..."
A strangled groan escaped Encrid's lips. The muscles in the back of his thighs were stretched so tight they felt on the verge of snapping, yet Audin went so far as to sit on Encrid's folded lower back to apply even more pressure.
Seated with his hands reaching past his toes, Encrid managed to squeeze out a few words.
"I’m... dying..."
"Is that a threat?"
"I mean I’m the one dying!"
His voice was as faint as a mosquito's buzz. It truly felt like his muscles were about to tear. If he tried to take just a few more breaths like this, he really would!
Only when Encrid reached his absolute limit did Audin finally stand up.
"This is just the basics."
Audin repeated the word "basics" several times as he moved Encrid through the routine.
Folding one leg inward to press down on the hip muscles. Holding onto a pillar with one hand, bending halfway down, and twisting the torso. Twisting, stretching, and squeezing the body.
Yes, squeezing.
No other word fit better. After wringing his body out like wet laundry, Encrid was drenched in sweat.
Is this actually a torture method? he wondered. If the basics are like this, does the advanced course involve dismantling a person limb by limb?
Idle thoughts crossed his mind, but the bottom line was that the exercises Audin taught him were incredibly effective. It was agonizing in the moment, but once it was over, his body felt remarkably lighter.
And it wasn't just lightness.
A fierce heat surged through his body. With his heart pounding and warmth spreading to his extremities, even the biting cold became much more bearable.
"Eating well, resting well, and moving well—that is how you endure the cold, Brother Squad Leader," Audin said with a gentle smile.
Encrid nodded. Training his body was a familiar part of his daily routine, and physical suffering only made his brain spin faster. His hyper-focused mind continued to process his thoughts, leading him back to the assassin who had come to kill him on this repeated day.
That skill.
He hadn't even seen the daggers being thrown. Encrid was fairly confident in his own throwing skills, but...
I can't even compare.
It was an extraordinary level of mastery. Regardless, it was just a matter of preparing for it. Approaching and stabbing was the first pattern. If that failed, the daggers followed.
For a wall, I suppose you could call it thin and low.
The Ferryman of the Black River had said that walls would keep appearing before Encrid, but...
If it's only this much...
It was easy. Or so he thought. That was why he could afford to be so relaxed.
"Look here. Is this really that hard? This?"
Rem, suddenly in high spirits, hopped out of bed and perfectly mimicked the movement Encrid had just struggled with. He moved smoothly, without a single hitch. Seeing his body stretch so effortlessly, it was immediately obvious that his flexibility was extraordinary.
"Let's work on that flexibility, shall we?"
The guy was strangely irritating. No, he had always been an irritating guy.
"You find this hard? This?" Rem continued to sneer, but Encrid coolly ignored him.
Meanwhile, Ragna, who had been watching them with half-closed eyes, began to move. He, too, possessed an extraordinary talent for physical movement. It was only natural; to surpass a certain level in swordsmanship, one had to know how to control their body perfectly.
Ragna replicated the movements flawlessly. Specifically choosing the very exercises Encrid had struggled with—the leg splits and deep forward bends—proved that Ragna was also the irritating type.
"Have you all developed a hobby of twisting yourselves into pretzels?" Sachsen asked as he walked in, returning from his overnight leave. To him, the barracks looked like a madhouse.
Encrid was catching his breath, drenched in sweat. In front of him, a crazy barbarian was folded in half, holding his toes with a beaming grin. And next to him, a lazybones sat in a full split.
Had they all lost their minds together?
"We were learning a training method to overcome the cold, Brother," Audin clarified.
Sachsen, seemingly uninterested, bypassed them and headed to his spot. As it was almost time for his shift, Encrid stood up and spoke out of pure curiosity. The dagger the assassin had thrown was of a shape he had never seen before.
"Have any of you ever used a dagger shaped like this? For throwing?"
"What does it look like?"
"No."
"I haven't, Brother."
Encrid described a throwing blade without a hilt. Rem, Ragna, and Audin spoke up, while Big-Eyes kept his mouth shut since he obviously didn't know. Sachsen, however, frowned before his expression cleared.
"Where did you see that?"
"I didn't exactly see it," Encrid replied. I'm about to go see it now. "By any chance, was there a round groove carved near the base?"
Sachsen asked without even sitting down. He was still holding his coat, about to hang it up.
"Yeah."
Encrid didn't even need to search his memory. He had just come from being struck by that very blade on this repeated day. There was indeed a round groove at the end.
"Why do you ask?" Rem asked, climbing back into bed.
"Just heard about it somewhere."
As Encrid spoke and turned around, the blue-eyed black panther emerged from his bed. The panther, which had snuggled into his arms to sleep last night, was only now waking up. It certainly loved beds and sleeping. Feeling the chill, it shivered and stretched its body fully from front to back.
Watching this, Encrid stroked the panther's back from head to tail, when Sachsen's voice drifted over.
"Avoid it if you can. It's called a Whistling Dagger."
"A Whistling Dagger?" It was a name he had never heard before.
"It's a nickname given because of the sound it makes when thrown. It's a weapon favored primarily for assassinations. It's incredibly difficult to master, but if you encounter someone who can use it properly... well, just run away."
Sachsen's tone was cold as always, yet strangely kind. But the content of his words was the problem.
Run away?
He's just a guy who knows how to throw a few daggers.
Purrrr.
Liking the strokes, the panther let out a pleased purr. Seeing this, Big-Eyes tried to pet it, but the panther instantly bared its fangs viciously.
"Whoa, alright, alright!"
It looked ready to bite him hard if he took another step. At first, Encrid had worried the panther might harm his squad members, but he quickly dismissed those concerns. No matter how fierce the panther was, it couldn't possibly do anything to Rem or the others. He only had to worry about Big-Eyes, but the panther seemed incredibly intelligent. They had spent a few days together, and there hadn't been any issues.
Encrid gently patted the panther's head. "Don't be so mean. I'm off to duty."
Encrid stood up to leave.
"Keep up with the bare-handed training. It will help you, Brother," Audin called out. He didn't specify what it would help with, but Encrid could easily guess. What was the one thing Encrid was always obsessed with? The sword. It would help his swordsmanship.
"He's not wrong," Rem nodded. Ragna and Sachsen nodded as well.
They were all remarkably attentive when it came to Encrid. It was truly strange; these were men who usually didn't spare a glance for anyone.
Encrid stepped out of the barracks for his shift. He had thought it was just a repetition of the same event and relatively easy, but Sachsen's words had tangled his thoughts.
Avoid it? Run away? With my current skills? Even in a head-on fight?
He should have asked for more details. No matter—he would find out soon enough by trying. Though the price would be his life and this day, he would gain just as much in return. It wouldn't be a waste.
Despite having met death countless times, Encrid refused to let any "today" go to waste. Even if there were days that had to be sacrificed for a specific purpose, he strove to gain at least one more thing before moving on.
The instinct that this repeated day had gifted him whispered in his ear.
That bizarre-looking half-elf assassin is no pushover.
"Oh, if it isn't Senior Soldier Sorcery Breaker!"
Jack and Bo were exactly the same. They flattered Encrid and softened the atmosphere. If he hadn't known their true nature, it would be one thing, but now their intentions were transparent. They were trying to inflate his ego and ease the tension to catch him off guard.
Looking at it this way, they're incredibly meticulous.
To go to such lengths when their target was just a mere soldier? Was the assassin a perfectionist?
While deducing the opponent's personality by recalling the half-elf's face, they arrived at the market.
"There are a hell of a lot of people here," Jack chattered beside him, closing the distance. On the other side, Bo narrowed the gap as well.
"Indeed."
He replied, watching a figure clad in rags approach from the front. Then, he suddenly flung his arms out to both sides.
Thud!
Once again, only Jack was hit, while Bo dodged. Encrid boldly twisted his body to the side. Although his body was stiff from the cold, Audin's exercises helped; he was more fluid than he had been on his very first "today."
Before he could even draw his sword, Encrid grabbed Bo by the collar, prompting Bo to throw a reflex punch. With the audacity granted by the Beast's Heart, Encrid tracked the fist's trajectory to the very end, anticipated it, and ducked.
Flick. The fist grazed his earlobe. After that, it was Encrid's turn.
He tightened his grip on the collar and twisted, choking off Bo's windpipe.
"Ack!" the man groaned.
Encrid took a sharp breath and swung Bo around to the side, intending to use him as a shield. Even if Bo was on the lighter side, the weight of an armed adult male strained his arms. He lifted him, twisted his waist, and swung him using centrifugal force.
As he turned halfway and pulled Bo close, Encrid spotted the half-elf, who had thrown off his rags. It was the moment their eyes met. The elf seemed to be sneering at him.
Why?
Encrid had just secured a human shield. The assassin should have been flustered. His target had anticipated and reacted to his carefully laid trap. Yet, the half-elf remained perfectly calm. He merely flicked his hand with a sneer.
The moment the assassin's hand reached into his shirt—it was a flash of light. A bolt of lightning. The dagger flew at a speed literally invisible to the naked eye.
A flash of light synchronized with the speed of the assassin's hand touching his chest and snapping forward. Before Encrid could even swing Bo to block his front, the dagger flew and embedded itself near his heart.
Wheee-sh!
Only afterward did the whistling sound pierce his ears. The pain that arrived with a dull thud made him realize what the assassin had done.
He had thrown a dagger, and it had pierced his heart.
"Damn."
His instinct had been right. The opponent was no pushover. Just looking at that dagger-throwing skill, he was clearly extraordinary.
Then what if I prevent him from throwing the daggers in the first place?
Even though a dagger was lodged in his chest, all the bystanders perceived was Encrid scuffling with the two soldiers.
"Let go of me!" Bo yelled, kicking Encrid in the stomach. The strength drained from Encrid's grip. Struck in the abdomen, he let go of the collar.
A dagger was buried in his heart. It would be stranger if he were fine. Blood welled up and spilled from his mouth. As he fell to one knee, struggling to keep from collapsing entirely, the half-elf approached.
"You expected this, didn't you? Was their acting that bad?"
Screams erupted around them, but the half-elf paid them no mind. It was as if the only thing that mattered was right here, right now—just the two of them.
"...Why?" Encrid asked, conserving his final breath.
"Why do I ask? Because I'm curious. It was as if you already knew and reacted accordingly."
Encrid gave a faint nod, caught his breath, and gathered his remaining strength to speak. "The acting was terrible. Even a passing dog would laugh."
The elf nodded, then flicked both hands outward.
Thud. Thud.
Two daggers flew from his hands at point-blank range. Encrid saw the tips of the blades embedded in Jack's and Bo's foreheads.
Two grooves. Whistling Daggers.
"Wh-what..."
"W-why..."
The two couldn't say another word and collapsed backward with a heavy thud. The half-elf stopped after dealing with them. Encrid knew Rotten was somewhere behind them, but Rotten wouldn't charge in under these circumstances. He was probably hiding.
The half-elf didn't kill Rotten. Though who knew, he might hunt him down after this was over. In any case, that had nothing to do with Encrid.
"The Persistent Lover never lets his prey escape."
Encrid nodded at the assassin's words. "Indeed."
"Aren't you surprised?"
"Should I be?"
"Well, usually people are."
Sorry, but this is already my third time.
Instead of being surprised, Encrid grabbed the dagger embedded in his chest and pulled it out.
Squelch.
As the dagger was pulled from his heart, excruciating pain washed over him. Blood gushed from his punctured chest. As Encrid's vision rapidly blurred, the assassin spoke.
"You're an interesting fellow."
Yeah? Is that so? I'll make it even more interesting for you next time, Encrid thought as he closed his eyes.
Along with the darkness, the Ferryman appeared.
"Hehehe."
He sneered at Encrid without saying a word. He seemed quite amused. Although no features were visible, the feeling the Ferryman conveyed was unmistakable.
The Ferryman's mockery was brief. For after the darkness, a new morning dawned once again.
* * *
"Good morning."
Bolting upright, Encrid grabbed Audin, quickly listened to the exercises, and the moment Sachsen returned, he grabbed him by the sleeve and dragged him outside.
Sachsen was about to push the person away, but stopped upon realizing it was his squad leader.
"Huh? Where are you going?" Rem asked from behind.
"I have something to ask him."
Sachsen of "Equivalent Exchange" was surprisingly knowledgeable. While Big-Eyes was well-versed in common rumors, more critical information had to be obtained through Sachsen. He had earned his nickname because he doubled as an information broker. He would give what the other party wanted, but they had to give him what he wanted in return.
"You know about the Whistling Dagger, right?"
Sachsen frowned. "Where did you hear about that?"
Observing Sachsen's reaction, Encrid concluded that the Whistling Dagger was no ordinary weapon.
"Tell me about it. About the Whistling Dagger."
"...Is this a trade?"
At this moment, he was not a squad member, but Sachsen of Equivalent Exchange.
"Yes."
The price didn't matter. It was a conversation that would vanish once today repeated. Even if he did reach tomorrow, he could simply pay him back then. However, having realized by only his fourth "today" that this was an insurmountable wall, he had a premonition that this conversation would ultimately be forgotten.
A wall is a wall. Nothing can be easily overcome.
It felt as though the Ferryman's mockery had turned into words, echoing in his ears.