Chapter 68: I Dreamed of Holding a Woman (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 68: I Dreamed of Holding a Woman (1)
Swish.
The world spun.
With a dull thud, Encrid slammed back-first onto the ground, the breath knocked clean out of his lungs.
"Any harder, and I would have shattered your ribs and ruptured your organs."
As he grimaced, enduring the white-hot pain, the Company Commander’s melodic voice rang out from above.
"Done?"
"Again."
If he could, Encrid would have repeated this a thousand times, even if it meant having his throat slit by her Naidel. He knew he was no match for her.
Rem had once glanced at the Elf Company Commander and remarked, "That lady is a total monster."
Ragna’s assessment had been equally blunt: "She is the best among the company commanders."
Even Audin had added his own observation: "Her body is perfectly conditioned."
Knowing he was outmatched changed nothing. Encrid gripped his sword with both hands and stood his ground.
"Come," the Elf Company Commander said, her voice as flat and emotionless as ever.
The Naidel arced inward.
The Naidel, a sword crafted by the elves, was a weapon designed to slash in a fluid curve before suddenly condensing into a single, lethal point for a thrust. Just moments ago, Encrid had allowed her to close the distance while trying to evade one of those thrusts.
This time, he stepped back and delivered a powerful upward slash with his longsword. He definitely held the advantage in raw strength. If he could deflect the Naidel upward, an opening would present itself.
He mapped out the flow of the battle in his mind. It was a combat prediction born naturally from countless real battles—battles where his life had been on the line. He anticipated his opponent's reaction and prepared his counter.
While this came as naturally as breathing to the gifted or those who had perfected their martial arts over decades, for Encrid, it was a weapon forged only after dying countless times.
Sssss.
Just before the Company Commander’s Naidel clashed with Encrid’s longsword, the blade bent fluidly. True to its moniker, the Leaf Sword, it behaved as if it were an actual leaf caught in a breeze.
The blade flexed pliantly. It was a trick of the Company Commander’s wrist—a subtle bending and shaking. Even as he watched the blade warp, Encrid poured more strength into his strike, determined to make contact.
In the end, his upward slash slid right past the steel. Encrid cut nothing but empty air. It was "soft" swordsmanship, a technique so fluid it could only be described as a feat of acrobatics.
Then, the elf closed the distance once more.
She lunged deep into his guard. Anticipating this, Encrid drove his knee upward.
Thud.
The Company Commander didn’t dodge. Instead, she overlapped her hands and pressed down firmly on his rising knee. By suppressing his leg before he could fully commit his weight, she threw Encrid completely off balance.
I saw it coming, yet I still fell for it, Encrid thought bitterly.
Even though he knew she would attempt close-quarters combat, he couldn't stop her. Desperate, he attempted a headbutt, but the Company Commander tilted her head to evade, catching Encrid’s forehead with her shoulder.
What followed was a repeat of his previous defeat, only the striking technique differed. Clasping her hands—the ones that had just blocked his knee—together, the Company Commander struck Encrid squarely over his heart.
Thud!
Once again, his breath hitched, and all strength drained from his limbs. If this had been a life-or-death struggle, he would have bitten his tongue and thrashed desperately, but this was a spar. At this point, he had already lost.
"Gah... pant, pant."
Encrid stumbled back a few paces, dropped to one knee to steady himself, and gasped for air. When he looked up, he met the Company Commander’s cool green eyes.
"More?" she asked.
"Whew."
Encrid’s chest ached with a dull throb, but he smiled. He was genuinely glad—glad that his opponent didn't stop just because she had won.
And so, he lunged again and again, countless times. He was beaten, battered, and sent sprawling onto the frozen ground until his body could take no more.
*
"Did you get beaten up for not shoveling snow? Is that it?"
When he returned to the barracks, Rem, wrapped snugly in thermal leather, was the first to react.
"What?"
"Why do you look like a half-dead corpse? Who did this to you?" Rem’s words made it sound like he was ready to storm out and seek vengeance, yet his hands only pulled his thermal leather tighter around himself.
Yeah, that thing is pretty warm, Encrid thought. Today was exceptionally cold.
"What happened?" Ragna asked, looking up.
For some reason, even Sachsen, who was in the barracks today, stared intently at Encrid. His eyes seemed to demand an explanation.
Audin muttered quietly, "Why are you always getting beaten up, brother?"
When you put it like that, it makes me sound incredibly frail. Like a spoiled brat who got thrashed at the slightest provocation.
Encrid took a moment to catch his breath before replying. "I was sparring."
"With whom?"
"The Company Commander."
"Our Company Commander?"
Encrid nodded.
"Why'd you do that? If you wanted a beating, I could've given you one for free," Rem joked.
That bastard really has a way of grating on my nerves.
Encrid didn't even bother replying. He had just washed up, relying on sheer superhuman willpower to move his leaden limbs. Fortunately, there was a bathhouse inside the barracks that provided hot water for a few Krona. Had it not been for that, he might have given up on hygiene altogether.
His entire body ached. He didn't even have the strength to wiggle a finger. But it was fine. He could rest now. A solid two days of recuperation would do wonders. With no duties or training scheduled, he had plenty of time.
"In recognition of your efforts to maintain public order in the territory, you are granted four days of leave. There is no monetary reward."
Those were the words the Company Commander had spoken as she ended the spar around sunset. She had said there was no reward, but Encrid considered the spar itself to be a gift. Besides, he still had the loot he had seized from the criminal guild.
I think I went down over ten times.
That was the number of times he had been sprawled out on the frozen dirt. His body had suffered, but his mind had gained something invaluable.
What I lack right now.
Instead of using words, the Company Commander had spoken through her sword and fists.
Polishing his swordsmanship, Single-Point Focus, the Beast’s Heart, and the Blade’s Sense was a given. Those were his foundations. However, Encrid realized there was a void within his combat style that needed filling.
"You are slow." The Company Commander’s parting words had flown like a dagger, but that level of insult didn't even sting. The teachers who had trained him over the years lived with far harsher words on their tongues.
"Do you absolutely have to learn?"
"Just quit and go back to your hometown to farm."
"I cannot teach someone destined to die as a third-rate hack."
The more competent the teacher, the harsher the venom they spat. The Company Commander had called him slow, but even within that slowness, Encrid had found what he was looking for.
A lack of technique.
Specifically, a lack of physical combat techniques. The Elf Company Commander had repeatedly thrown him down using the same methods. She taught with her body, and Encrid absorbed the lessons with his. He had never let an opportunity to learn slip by, seizing it like a hawk targeting its prey.
What I need...
Combat techniques referred to as wrestling, close-quarters combat, or hand-to-hand martial arts. Just because one wielded a sword didn't mean they only fought with the blade. It involved the tactical use of hands, feet, and the torso. It was a tactic Encrid had used himself, but...
It’s glaringly obvious that I’ve never properly learned it.
The Company Commander’s technique was superb. In particular, there was no obvious counter to how she would discard her sword, charge low to the ground, instantly break his balance, and then seize and twist his knee.
What if he drew a dagger and stabbed downward? No, if it were the Company Commander, she would dislocate and shatter his knee joint before he could even plunge the blade, then slip away like a shadow.
It won't be easy.
In short, it was a difference in technique. There was a gap in proficiency, of course, but fundamentally, their martial foundations were different.
Still, it was fun.
His entire body throbbed, and he felt as though he had sustained deep internal bruising, but he had gained knowledge. Because that learning opened a new path, Encrid was happy.
As he went to lie down on his cot, the panther poked its head out and stared at him with its deep blue eyes.
I did say I’d give it a name.
It would be troublesome not to have a proper name for the creature. As he slid onto the cot, the panther snuggled into his chest. He felt a cozy, radiating warmth. Somehow, that warmth seemed to soothe his battered body.
"Since you're warm, should I name you Heater?"
"You call that a name?" Rem chimed in from the side. This bastard never misses a chance to butt in.
"Is it weird?"
"Do you even have to ask?" Ragna replied from the opposite cot. He was too lazy to even sit up, yet his mouth was perfectly active.
"Do you dislike the panther, brother?" Audin joined in.
"Do you hate it?" Encrid asked the panther.
The creature promptly slapped his cheek with its forepaw.
"I guess it really hates it," Encrid muttered, hugging the panther close as he fell into thought.
What should he name it? He never expected to agonize over something like this.
Blackie? No, that sounds like a dog’s name.
Since its eyes are blue and deep like lakes, maybe Blue-Eyes? That actually sounded decent.
The panther, nestled in his arms, tapped his chest repeatedly, as if it were reading his mind and rejecting every single option.
Do you hate Blue-Eyes too? Then what should I call you? Maybe just Black Panther? That would be simple.
Press.
The panther pressed its paw firmly against his chest. Seeing it rub against him repeatedly, it seemed to thoroughly detest the idea.
By the way, are you reading my mind?
While out on the external mission, he had spent the night alongside the comrades of the very people he had killed. In such a situation, Rem, who had snored, and Ragna, who had slept like the dead, were the abnormal ones. A certain level of tension had been necessary.
Consequently, he hadn't been able to sleep soundly in the thieves' hideout. He had only dozed off fitfully. Upon returning, he had immediately reported in, followed directly by the grueling spar.
He had repeatedly rolled around on the frozen ground, pushing his body to its absolute limits. As a result, he was thoroughly exhausted. After washing with hot water and wrapping himself in thermal leather, warmth seeped deep into his bones. The heat from the panther also played a part. The creature's rhythmic kneading with its paws naturally lulled him toward sleep.
Encrid was half-asleep.
What is your name?
A state where half of one's mind is in a dream and the other half is in reality is called a twilight sleep. The moment he asked the question in that state, Encrid fell into a dream.
In his dream, a beautiful woman with silver-blonde hair and blue eyes appeared. Her eyes were large and clear, and her straight, high-bridged nose reflected a sharp personality. He felt she was an upright, unyielding, and arrogant beauty.
They stood in the middle of a meadow where white, red, yellow, and blue flowers bloomed in profusion. She was like a star shining alone among the blossoms—a star that bestowed light upon every single flower.
"You're beautiful," Encrid said. His voice crossed the meadow and reached her. He knew this because it was a dream.
And then, she spoke.
"My name is Esther."
That voice also transcended distance and space to reach him. Once again, the meadow vanished, and she disappeared with it. Half-asleep, Encrid mumbled in his sleep.
"Esther. Let's call you Esther."
"...Are you dreaming?" Rem replied from beside him, but Encrid, already fast asleep, did not answer.
Watching his sleeping squad leader, Rem tilted his head. No matter how tired he was, Encrid wasn't the type of person to fall asleep so deeply that he lost all awareness.
"He must be exhausted," Rem muttered. It seemed the Company Commander had intentionally run the squad leader ragged. He didn't particularly like that. That elven woman was the type whose inner thoughts were impossible to read. Besides, why was she running his squad leader ragged like that without permission?
Purr.
As if reacting to the name "Esther," the panther let out a contented purr in the squad leader’s arms.
"Fine, you be Esther then," Rem spoke jokingly and closed his own eyes. He was satisfied with the current warmth. He hated the cold. Absolutely detested it.
Did she say there were no duties for four days? Rem had no intention of leaving his thermal leather during that time, except to eat and relieve himself.
*
The Lake Panther, Esther, caught a familiar scent from the man named Encrid. It was a scent associated with spells, mysteries, and secret arts. Though if one were to delve deeper, it was closer to a curse.
It only lingered on the surface.
The mystery known as a curse had failed to exert any power around Encrid, leaving behind nothing but a trace. Based on her experience, it seemed a spell trap set by someone had been triggered. It had been triggered, but it hadn't worked.
She had a hunch as to why the curse only lingered. Of course, it was merely a hunch. With her current body, she couldn't prove anything. She wanted to know more, to delve deeper, but now was not the time to investigate. To be precise, it wasn't something she could afford to question.
Inhaling the scent of the spell, she absorbed the energy that lingered on the surface of the man named Encrid. Since the intent and will that could be called a curse had already vanished, only pure energy—mana—remained.
Esther savored it to her heart's content. It was a sweet fragrance. It had been a very long time since she had tasted a piece of the Spell World.
Meanwhile, she projected herself into the dream of the man who was trying to arbitrarily name her.
"My name is Esther."
She conveyed her name properly. She couldn't just let it slide. In the Spell World, a name held a special significance—especially given her current, less-than-ideal state. If she were to receive a new name in her current form, the curse would only deepen. Thus, she had to make her original name known. That was why she had gone to the trouble of appearing in the man's dream.
Was it thanks to the mana remaining on Encrid’s body and her projecting her image into his dream? For a brief moment, Esther regained her original form.
Naked, in the arms of the man she had chosen.
"Mmh."
The man pulled her close. Having never allowed a member of the opposite sex into her embrace, Esther’s face instantly flushed crimson. But there was no one to see it. The man’s firm chest muscles were right before her eyes.
Esther let out only a faint breath and remained absolutely still. She was in no position to make a fuss. Her return to her true form lasted only a fleeting moment.
The man’s eyelids fluttered open. His eyes were heavy with sleep, lacking any sharp focus. The moment she met his gaze, Esther was so startled she forgot to breathe.
"Huh?"
The man stared blankly, closed his eyes tightly, and then opened them again. His eyes were still hazy with sleep. In that brief interval, Esther reverted to her panther form. It was the mystery of magic.
The man, who had opened his eyes again, closed them and drifted back into deep sleep.
"Esther... Esther..." he mumbled in his sleep.
He won't remember, right?
She felt relieved that she had turned back into a panther. To think she had been held naked in the arms of a man she had just met—well, strictly speaking, he wasn't a complete stranger, but still. She didn't even want to imagine it.
And then, Esther regretted her thoughts.
To think I'm glad for the curse.
It was something she wouldn't have even thought of by mistake. But since it was her first time being held in a man’s arms like this...
The panther made a half-hearted attempt to push the man away, but then stayed still. The scent of mana still lingering on the man’s chest tempted her. Convincing herself it was solely because of the mana, she snuggled deeper into his embrace.
Just as Encrid felt the warmth of the panther, the panther also felt Encrid’s warmth.
Having recovered enough energy to briefly regain her true form, she would now be able to move around to some extent, even in her panther form. Though she would still need time to fully recover her original self.
Soon.
It was literally just a matter of time. As long as she remained by the side of this human named Encrid, it would happen. If not, she wouldn't have sought this fellow out in the first place.
I do quite like his face.
Even to her eyes, Encrid was an uncommonly handsome man. Of course, Esther told herself that such things didn't matter.