Chapter 63: Knock
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 63: Knock
It didn't take long.
As expected of Sachsen, he delivered.
He had left the unit just as the sun passed its zenith and returned before the first hues of sunset could drape themselves over the earth.
"That was fast," Rem said, patting his stomach.
They had just finished a meal of pumpkin soup and tender, steamed pork hind legs. Rem’s tone suggested he was teasing Sachsen for missing out on the feast.
Sachsen didn't even glance in Rem's direction, speaking directly to Encrid.
"I will guide you."
He looked ready to set off immediately.
"Sit," Encrid commanded, remaining in his chair.
Sachsen hesitated.
Even if they had located the target, time was of the essence. The longer they waited, the higher the chance the targets would realize they were being tailed. They could go into hiding or, worse, prepare an ambush. Instead of fleeing, wouldn't they be more inclined to simply sever the tail following them?
It was a distinct possibility. Why take unnecessary risks?
If Sachsen had been alone—if he were the one making the decisions and executing them—these wouldn't even be questions worth agonizing over.
As a whirlwind of tactical concerns swirled through Sachsen's head, the squad leader's voice cut through his thoughts.
"The pumpkin soup here is good."
Sachsen blinked. Who didn't know that?
The inn's very name was 'Vanessa's Pumpkin Soup.' Out of the four inns at the market intersection, this place served the best food, hands down.
"Krais opened his own wallet for this. Let's eat before we go," Encrid said.
Only after Encrid spoke a second time did Sachsen finally take a seat. For some reason, Rem, Ragna, and Audin remained uncharacteristically quiet.
Sachsen brushed the snow clinging to his shoulders and head. Thanks to the cozy warmth radiating from the fireplace, the frost melted quickly, leaving his outer coat slightly damp, though not enough to be uncomfortable.
"One serving of pumpkin soup and the barbecue they had, please."
"Ah, the companion you were waiting for is finally here! Right away!" the waitress replied cheerfully. She was a lively girl, full of energy.
Generally, the soldiers of the unit favored the Pumpkin Inn. Such was the power of good food. With all due respect to the unit's cooks—and to borrow Ragna's phrasing—the meals in the barracks were akin to oral abuse. While they were tolerable on rare occasions, that was the general consensus.
In contrast, the food at Vanessa's Pumpkin Soup was beyond excellent. There was even a persistent rumor that the best chef in the entire Border Guard worked here.
"It's not wise to drag our feet," Sachsen noted as he pulled up his chair.
Encrid nodded in response. "The snow hasn't stopped yet."
It wasn't as if Encrid enjoyed hard labor, especially when it didn't involve swordsmanship or physical training. To him, snow was nothing but the devil's white dung.
In fact, everyone serving in the unit likely felt the same way. If they raided the thieves' guild now and returned, the freshly piled snow would be waiting for them to shovel it. This was why Rem and the others hadn't said a word, and likely why Krais had been so generous with his purse.
Sachsen realized the logic behind the delay. "I see."
After that, he focused entirely on his meal.
By the time twilight began to creep across the sky, the group, led by Encrid, finally stood up.
"Let's go."
"Come again soon!" the lively waitress called out.
Krais gave her a slight nod. The two seemed to know each other; throughout their stay, they had been spotted whispering together more than a few times.
"Do you know her?" Encrid asked.
"Her name is Reisa, seventeen years old. Her father is a shoemaker and her mother is a weaver. Neither has ever joined a guild."
A shoemaker made and sold leather footwear, while a weaver produced fabric—both common enough trades. Since manufacturing and woodworking guilds clearly existed within the territory, the fact that they weren't members suggested their skills weren't particularly outstanding.
"Her dream is to go to the capital someday and open an inn. Right now, her goal is to master the recipes of Vanessa's Pumpkin Soup."
"That's quite an ambitious dream," Rem chimed in.
It was understandable. Running an inn was easier said than done; it wasn't a venture for the faint of heart. Aside from the massive amount of krona required, hiring armed guards was an absolute necessity.
When you sell alcohol and food, brawls and disturbances are daily occurrences. Today was relatively quiet because of the snow, but on a normal day, blood would have likely been spilled already. Even as they walked out the door, the armed guard at the entrance glanced at them. To Encrid, the man looked like a retired soldier.
Having a guard from the Border Guard was convenient. Most minor disturbances could be settled quietly through mutual connections. If a major incident occurred, a single guard couldn't do much anyway, and they would have to call the military guards from the unit. Having connections meant the military would respond much faster. For this reason, employing retired soldiers as guards was practically a prerequisite for businesses in the Border Guard.
On top of that, inns were heavily taxed. By Border Guard standards, an inn had to be equipped with a meeting hall, VIP rooms, a private training ground, a restaurant, and a tavern. Since the Border Guard had no lord and no lord's manor, all major affairs were conducted within these establishments. While the military base had its own meeting rooms, those were restricted facilities. Naturally, this environment forced inns to become highly developed hubs of society.
Opening such an inn in the capital... yes, it was a stretch. But that was no reason for her to give up.
"You certainly know a lot of details," Encrid said, walking behind Sachsen, who was leading the way.
"Because every pretty woman is a potential future customer."
Krais had mentioned his goal was to open a noblewoman's salon—an exclusive establishment for women where all the servers would be handsome men. He was a remarkably creative bastard, planning to empty the pockets of noblewomen using male beauty.
Krais kept talking, perhaps out of a bit of nervous energy. "But is the Lake Panther going to be okay? Isn't it cold? Why wouldn't it budge when I told it to follow us?"
"Are you still after its claws?"
"No way. I feel like I'd die an early death if I tried. There's a reason they're so expensive."
Encrid chuckled. Krais claimed otherwise, but it was obvious he was still eyeing the beast.
"You should give it a name. It looks like you're going to keep bringing it along."
Encrid silently agreed. He couldn't keep calling it "hey you" or "that thing" forever.
As they conversed, they found themselves deep inside a dark alleyway. After turning corner after corner, even Encrid, who had a decent sense of direction, was starting to lose his bearings.
"Hey, did you pocket some krona from the thieves' guild and lead us into a trap on purpose?" Rem sneered playfully.
Sachsen ignored him completely.
"This bastard ignores me every chance he gets," Rem grumbled, but Sachsen maintained his consistency by ignoring that as well.
"Cut it out," Encrid said, stopping Rem before he could escalate.
"Are you playing favorites? It won't be pretty if I get my feelings hurt."
Rem dragging Encrid into the banter was a good sign. It meant he was ready to drop the act.
It was quiet after that. Ragna, looking bored, kicked at the ground with his toes as he walked.
"Winter is cold indeed."
That was all Audin said upon seeing a group of beggars huddled on the ground in the freezing cold.
The snow had stopped, but a thin layer had accumulated over the hard-frozen earth. By tomorrow afternoon, the sunlight would melt it, turning the ground into a muddy mess.
"We're here."
After wandering through the alleys for about half an hour, Sachsen finally spoke. A worn wooden door came into view—the kind of nondescript door seen everywhere in the Border Guard. Although the sun had set, the gentle moonlight provided enough visibility to see the rot in the wood.
Just as Encrid was about to push the door open—
"Do you want to take the left?" Rem asked, standing still with his back to the moonlight.
"I'll take the right. I must earn the meal I was treated to," Audin chimed in.
"Do whatever you want. As long as they don't come at me, I don't care," Ragna added with a yawn.
"Lazy bastard. Squad leader, we've got company."
Encrid turned around. The figures approaching were draped in straw mats and rags. Looking closely, they were the very same beggars they had seen sprawled on the ground earlier.
The image of the half-elf flashed through his mind before quickly vanishing.
‘But these guys are twice as big.’
Encrid casually brushed his hand against the back of his belt. His fingertips touched a knife—not an ordinary blade, but one he had swiped from the corpse of the half-elf. He also had a sturdy throwing dagger sheath strapped to his chest. The Whistling Daggers weren't something easily crafted, so he had gathered every single one he could find, from those embedded in the ground to the ones still on the elf's body.
"You must not have been taught well as kids. You shouldn't wander into places like this after dark," one of the beggars spoke. As he did, his front teeth showed—they were so yellow they looked almost black.
It was hard to tell for sure in the dark, but even from a few paces away, a foul stench wafted from them.
"Bullshit," Rem replied, moving instantly.
He didn't rush. He simply closed the distance with long, deliberate strides. The beggar stepping forward pulled a pocket knife from his sleeve. The blade was barely a span long. Holding it low, he made a stabbing motion.
"You're dead meat."
Those were his last words.
Rem didn't stop. As the man lunged, Rem snatched the beggar's wrist with his left hand. Pulling the man inward, Rem drove his right elbow into the man's skull.
Crack! Snap!
It was a bold, decisive strike. Having taken an elbow directly to the temple, the beggar's neck bent at an unnatural angle.
Crack.
Simultaneously, on the other side, Audin grabbed another beggar's jaw with only his thumb, index, and middle fingers. He twisted. With just three fingers, he exerted enough force to snap the man's neck. It was a feat of sheer, monstrous strength.
"You crazy bastard!"
"Fuck!"
Two of the remaining three yelled in fury, while the last one sized up the situation and immediately tried to bolt.
Rem and Audin's fight was brief. Close the distance, ignore the knife, and deliver a single, lethal blow. That was all. Rem chopped the beggar's windpipe with the edge of his hand, then delivered a snap strike to his temple. The beggar went limp.
Audin was even simpler. He took a step forward with his left foot and thrust his left fist straight out.
Whoosh—bam!
His fist was like a cannonball. It was a strike driven by the twist of his hips, starting from his toes and extending through his shoulder. The punch completely obliterated the target's nose. The man’s face caved inward as he dropped to his knees and collapsed.
Meanwhile, Encrid dealt with the one who had run.
Thud, thunk!
"Ack!"
The fleeing man pitched forward, a dagger now ornamenting the back of his neck.
Rem, who had just tensed his muscles to give chase, turned his head back. Audin blinked in surprise, and even Ragna, who had looked half-asleep, widened his eyes. Sachsen's brow furrowed, then relaxed.
Amidst the heavy, cold air—
"Wow," Krais let out a brief exclamation of admiration.
Encrid lowered his hand and spoke calmly. "What? Chasing him would have been a waste of time."
"Since when did our squad leader get so good at throwing daggers?" Rem asked.
"I’m picking it up as I go."
"Truly fascinating."
"Isn't this a bad time to be focusing on my daggers?"
Encrid was right. Rem nodded. Even though five men had attacked them, not a single person in the squad was rattled. Even Krais remained calm.
"You weren't surprised?" Encrid asked Krais.
Encrid had known they were being watched just by looking at the callouses on the "beggars'" hands as they walked up. He hadn't survived as a mercenary for nothing. What did one need to survive a long time with mediocre skills? Quick wits.
"Huh? Oh, I wasn't surprised. What kind of beggar attacks armed soldiers? Their cover was terrible. It was practically guaranteed that the criminal guild's headquarters was just ahead, or they were hiding something."
Krais was clever. He had witnessed war firsthand; a few thugs in an alley were nothing to him.
"Though it is surprising for a criminal gang."
"What is?"
"Looking at how those guys acted, it seems they were running shifts. That's way too organized for a mere gang. This Gilpin guy must be incredibly capable."
Krais knew how to look at one side of a situation and deduce the structure behind it.
"That's true."
While the two exchanged words, Sachsen stepped toward the door. Seeing him grip the hilt of his sword, it looked like he was planning to slice it open.
At that, Audin stepped forward.
"Let me knock."
This was a criminal organization's hideout. There was no way they would open it just because someone asked nicely.
Crash!
But Audin's knock was a little different.
"Pfft, nice one, our religious fanatic friend," Rem admired.
Encrid was also silently impressed.
Audin pulled back his right shoulder, pivoted on his left foot, and slammed his palm against the wood. The moment he struck, he snapped his hand back—a perfect snap strike.
The door's hinges tore clean off, and the wood buckled inward. The door didn't just open; it was obliterated.
It was a spectacular knock.