Chapter 623: Realized Too Late
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 623: Realized Too Late
No matter how generous one’s perspective, Ragna simply wasn't cut out for leadership. But Krais wasn't about to let his talent go to waste.
"Let's start by assigning ten men to him," Krais decided.
And so, they formed the Ten-Man Swordsman Squad. Ragna was appointed captain, with Ropode serving as his vice-captain. Needless to say, the lion's share of the actual labor and administrative duties fell squarely on Ropode’s shoulders.
On top of that, Ropode initially took charge of training the new recruits, though this was later changed to a rotating duty shared by members from every unit.
The ten men selected for the squad possessed outstanding talent in their own right, but every single one of them had fallen into despair at least once after witnessing the sheer gap between themselves and the duo of Ragna and Ropode.
"I'm not even a genius," one of them would often mutter with a hollow expression.
After a bit of teasing from Pel, Ropode would offer a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, and they would naturally drift back into training. Although they couldn't all be granted emblems, they possessed a fierce, burning sense of belonging to their unit.
In particular, the Ten-Man Swordsman Squad under Ragna's command earned prestigious nicknames like "the elite few" and "the miniature order of knights."
Since fostering such pride was never a bad thing, the leadership left them to it. Perhaps because of this pride, they occasionally brawled amongst themselves, but it never escalated into a serious issue.
"You're fighting? If you lose, kill yourselves."
Ragna told them that if they were going to fight, they had better win. None of the squad members took it as a joke.
In truth, Ragna had meant it as a joke. After all, he had come to believe that a moderate amount of defeat was essential for honing one's skills. In the past, he would never have entertained such a thought, but he had learned and realized a great deal from watching Encrid.
"If you want to fight, come at me."
Thanks to that attitude, he occasionally sparred with them. All ten swordsmen set Ragna as their ultimate target. Naturally, their standards skyrocketed, and the fervor for training sparked by Encrid became the catalyst for their rapid, unrecognizable improvement.
Previously, the most prestigious unit within the Border Guard Standing Army had been the Frontier Guard, but that unit was now active as Martai's security force. Due to various circumstances, the Frontier Guard could no longer maintain its former monopoly on prestige.
One reason was that the overall level of the Border Guard soldiers had risen across the board. Additionally, the quality of forces held by other armed groups across the continent had begun to reveal their true strength, shifting the balance of power significantly. Thus, this restructuring was a direct response to the countless armed factions rising throughout the continent.
The next unit Krais overhauled was Audin's Divine Infantry.
Audin became the captain, with Teresa as his vice-captain. This was the unit Krais had to worry about the least. Perhaps because Audin had prior experience in such matters, he skillfully led the hundred-man unit in perfect accordance with the new structure.
Luagarne remained as Encrid's closest personal guard, while Esther demonstrated the remarkable talent of turning the twenty soldiers under her command into mages.
Having drawn the blueprint this far, Krais and Abnayor set about shifting the atmosphere of the Border Guard once more. In truth, they had reorganized the structure specifically to cultivate this environment. To be precise, they capitalized on the fire Encrid had lit—the spark that had ignited a passion for training.
They ensured that a culture of rigorous training and self-discipline took deep root.
"Are you just going to let this fervor go to waste?"
It was a collaborative effort born from Abnayor's suggestion and Krais's execution. The two shaped the environment to stimulate the desire for self-improvement among the soldiers who had completed basic training.
First, they granted special privileges and benefits to each unit to elevate their pride. Second, these unit members received a higher monthly salary compared to regular soldiers.
Of course, some of those who attempted the training dropped out—this happened frequently in Rem's unit—but it caused no issues. This was because the unit leader in charge of public security handled all matters with absolute fairness.
That security captain was currently Vengeance.
Considering his history with Encrid, this was an astonishing development. Furthermore, Encrid publicly referred to Vengeance as his comrade-in-arms, acknowledging his contributions. In truth, even this was a calculated move orchestrated by Krais.
Krais had foreseen that if anyone dared to question Vengeance's authority, Encrid would be the one to speak up. Encrid seemed to have done it knowingly, but either way, the result was the same.
"I don't take orders from someone weaker than me. That's how I was raised."
When a recruit said this to Vengeance, Encrid simply cut off the man's ear.
Everyone agreed that Encrid was incredibly generous for not taking the man's head instead. The words Encrid spoke next were engraved even deeper into the minds of those present.
"If I wanted someone who was only good at fighting, I would have put Rem in charge. Is that what you want?"
Everyone in the Border Guard—citizens, mercenaries, and the standing army alike—had no desire to experience having their heads split vertically in half over a single word. Rem was simply that kind of existence. Everyone inside the Border Guard knew it.
Only the drifters from the outside remained ignorant, and as it happened, the fool who got his ear cut off was one of those drifters.
"Like I give a shit!" the man shouted defiantly.
"You crazy bastard."
"Just drop dead."
"If you want to die, do it alone."
"Hey, kick him out and throw a bucket of water in front of the shop."
The drifter watched in shock as even the restaurant owner turned away from him. He quickly experienced the weight of the community using physical force to pressure him out. Soon, those who subdued the man—who had committed a sin worse than summoning a demon—shouted:
"Long live Vengeance!"
The security force led by Vengeance was, of course, part of the Border Guard Standing Army, so they were by no means lacking in skill. Maintaining public order itself was not particularly difficult.
"Fuck, I'm basically the neighborhood punching bag," Rem grumbled later upon hearing about the incident, though he wasn't the type to actually care about his reputation.
Around this time, news arrived that a Demon Realm outbreak had occurred, but it was reportedly suppressed by the Red Cloak Knights, who had received aid from the Holy State's Heresy Purging Priests. According to Aisia, it had been a brutal battle; she mentioned that a comrade had lost an arm.
Following that, cultists rose up twice, though no Apostle appeared.
One of the two uprisings was handled by three off-duty soldiers from the Border Guard Standing Army; it had occurred in one of the southern territories. Publicly, it was known that they had sniffed out something suspicious by chance and taken care of it. However, looking closely from the inside, the reality was that the intelligence unit under Sachsen had intervened.
A mercenary unit specializing in covert operations, assassination, and intelligence gathering—completely hidden from the outside world—was the final unit Krais had structured. Its leader was Sachsen.
The other cultist uprising was resolved by the Kingdom Security Force. Apparently, they had attempted a demon-summoning ritual in the capital. It seemed they had targeted a lapse in internal security, which occurred because the force was busy building outposts outside the capital to wipe out monsters and bandits. However, Andrew Gardner, who had recently been appointed as the Kingdom's Security Captain, caught them in time.
Encrid received such news through letters from time to time. Aside from these minor events, Encrid didn't do much. He trained, disciplined himself, occasionally browsed the market, and visited Eitri to share his experiences.
"Give me your sword."
By now, it was only natural for Eitri to maintain his blade. He disassembled the hilt, heated and hammered the steel, applied a specialized compound, and re-oiled it.
"Even with this, you must maintain it frequently on your own. You must never skip oiling True Silver. The metal itself is quite sensitive, so the edge will lose its bite quickly."
"I'll be careful."
Eitri then took back the shortsword he had made, noting that Encrid didn't seem to use it much, and handed him a Guard Sword with a wide blade. An emblem-like pattern was engraved on the broad steel, which looked magical no matter how one viewed it.
"Imbuing magic was still beyond my current capabilities. Instead, Lady Esther lent a hand."
Eitri showed the blade to Encrid, sheathed it in a black leather scabbard, spun the hilt, and handed it over.
"Esther did?"
Their panther witch might have seemed aloof and solitary, but there was nowhere her reach did not extend. This was certainly true, considering Castellan Graham had sent her gifts to thank her for casting protective spells on the castle walls.
"Yes, it was thanks to her that I could make this."
Eitri explained that if he held the hilt of the Guard Sword and tossed it into the air, it would block an attack on its own exactly once. Encrid wondered if it would have been better to make a shield if that was the case, but Eitri's thoughts differed.
"They say that in the past, a certain knight chose a 'Luck Sword' as his imprinted weapon. The Luck Sword would save its master's life from unexpected attacks. I drew inspiration from that when I swung my hammer."
He wasn't just honing his craft; he was also studying history. Eitri was doing his absolute best in every way. Therefore, the reason it was a sword and not a shield was obvious.
It's a stepping stone.
The ultimate goal from the start was an imprinted weapon. This was merely a practice piece made on the path to that goal. Neither Eitri nor Encrid knew what kind of weapon he would forge in the future. There was only the belief that he would make it someday.
Looking into Eitri's shining eyes, Encrid felt a surge of warmth. Encrid's own passion remained unchanged, but it was always a pleasure to look into the eyes of someone like this.
Beside him, Frok, who was crafting accessories, was shedding blood and sweat again today. Encrid struck up a conversation with Frok for no particular reason. In terms of sheer passion, Frok didn't seem like he would lose to anyone either.
"How's it going?"
"I don't know."
Yes, he didn't know. Yet, he did it anyway. Even if he wouldn't improve tomorrow, and even if there was no such guarantee, he did it because it was what he wanted to do.
"Keep up the hard work."
After returning to his unit, Encrid had Krais deliver a gift of well-dried pupae. Eitri later told him that Frok, upon receiving it, had puffed out his cheeks in a rare display of emotion.
Sometime later, he received news of Dunchabel in a letter from the King of the East.
- Does she always go this long without washing?
Dunchabel was doing very well.
Time passed, and on a certain snowy day—about a month after Sinar had left—winter was nearing its end.
"Yo, how have you been? I told you to drop by if you weren't busy, but you made me come all this way."
The King had arrived. To Encrid, he was a friend who happened to be a king.
He claimed he had come to verify that the development of the Stone Road had opened up a major trade route with the west, creating a turning point for trade across the entire continent, and that the western merchant caravans passing through Nauril to the Border Guard had boosted profits in both cities—but it was all an excuse.
The real reason Krang had come was revealed over a cup of tea.
"Aren't you going to ask why Sinar left?"
She had departed without a word of when she would return, and he had even seen her letter telling him not to look for her.
"I thought it was her choice."
"Ah, it was a choice, indeed," Krang agreed.
Encrid felt a premonition, similar to the vague feeling he had once had that he could establish his own swordsmanship. Had Sinar acted of her own free will? The premonition that followed this question was highly ominous.
Krang continued, his tone suggesting he had nothing to hide.
"She said she had to fulfill her duty for the elf clan. I also heard she received a Brand of Duty."
A Brand of Duty was like a shackle forcing one to perform a certain task. Based on the explanation, it was far worse than mere chains, as it would claim the bearer's life if the task was not completed within a set period.
"I understand it's because of a curse placed on the elf clan. She cooperated with me to lift it. I advised her to reject that duty, but Sinar refused."
"A curse?"
"I don't know the details."
The tea in their cups grew cold. Neither of them had taken a single sip.
"One thing is certain: that duty holds her captive. And that duty will ultimately torment the elf named Sinar Kirhais."
A brief silence fell. Encrid took a sip of his tea. The astringency of the cold tea lingered in his mouth. He should have removed the tea leaves after brewing, but he had forgotten, leaving the tea over-steeped. Although it was a tea meant to be enjoyed for its bitter notes, this was far too bitter.
When choosing the tea leaves, he had picked them without hesitation because there were no other options. As a result, the bitter taste spread thick across his palate.
But it was the same now. There were no other options to ponder.
Originally, he had respected Sinar's choice. But what if that respect had actually been a form of turning a blind eye? The thought struck him. Was his realization too late? Was it too late to go after her now?
If you do nothing when you think it's too late, nothing will ever happen. Encrid knew that truth all too well.
"Are you going?" Krang asked. He was as quick-witted as Krais.
"Yeah."
Encrid nodded. Ever since Sinar left, a certain emptiness had lingered. Or perhaps it was closer to a lingering discomfort. The reason? He understood her not returning. But Sinar had never explained why. It was probably because not knowing the reason sat poorly with him. That was why it felt uncomfortable. Now, he understood.
I realized it a bit too late.
Encrid briefly blamed his own foolishness, but doing so changed nothing.
"Why?" Krang asked.
"Because I think my joke-loving big sister is waiting for me."
Krang frowned at the elven-style joke.