Chapter 75: The Charming Squad Leader
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 75: The Charming Squad Leader
The candles mounted along the tavern walls flickered, burned down to stubs.
With no other customers around, the owner was likely trying to save on the cost of wax. The dim light cast deep, dancing shadows across the floor, where Encrid’s own shadow stretched long and thin.
He had spent the hours before dawn honing his Blade of Senses.
The quiet interior, the steady breathing of the soldier standing guard outside, the soft clink of his charge tipping her cup—he focused his mind, sharpening his perception to catch every vibration.
He mapped the presences around him, counting the heartbeats nearby. He even estimated the distance of a night bird crying out in the far-off darkness. As he did, Encrid traced the boundaries of his awareness.
Within five paces...
Inside that radius, he could read even the faintest shift in the air. He could hear the rustle of a sleeve as if it were a shout.
Then, a thought occurred to him.
Is it possible to do that solely by listening?
Recalling the conversation between the Elf Company Commander and Sachsen just before the ambush, the two had clearly anticipated the surprise attack. How had they known? It couldn't have been by relying on their ears alone. He made a mental note to ask Sachsen about it later. If it was a skill that could be learned, he wanted it.
This time, I didn't hit a wall.
At his current level, he might not have to repeat "today" unless something truly extreme happened. However, he had no intention of dying on purpose just to trap himself in a loop. Encrid remained steadfast.
For the sake of tomorrow.
He always ran forward, eyes fixed on the horizon. That was the driving force that kept him from being swallowed by the repetition of the present.
Crackle, snap.
The firewood in the hearth popped, sending a small shower of sparks into the air.
Aside from reviewing the battle, idle thoughts drifted through his mind. Encrid sat with his chin resting on his hand, recalling the man he had killed.
“For the glory of the motherland,” was it?
Was he part of an Azpen spy unit? What was the person who mobilized such a force thinking? What did they plan to achieve by causing such a massive incident within the Border Guard? Would there be another attack? Would they send two whole squads next time, or perhaps a team of elite assassins?
Thinking along those lines, he realized that catching the runner might be easier than he’d initially thought.
Right then, Leona came downstairs.
"You're up early," she remarked.
"I was on duty. We just rotated shifts."
"Ah, I see."
Leona nodded and approached him. The floor still bore the faint traces of the previous night’s violence. She seemed to be trying her best to remain unfazed, but Encrid knew that only made one dwell on things more. It was easier to focus on something else entirely—he knew that from bitter experience.
"Is this your first time at the Border Guard?"
"Pardon? Yes, it is."
Encrid recalled Big-Eyes mentioning that this woman had a peculiar personality. She certainly had resolve, but she didn't show any of the manic intensity possessed by someone like Rem.
No, I shouldn't compare her to Rem. That would be rude.
"They say there are many legends about the Pen-Hanil River. Do you happen to know the story of the sword forged from its waters?"
A bard's tale always stirred the heart. Encrid had memorized a few of them over the years. They were good for breaking the ice and helped pass the time during long guard shifts. Essentially, he was just making idle small talk to kill time. Still, to someone hearing it for the first time, it was a welcome distraction.
"Please, tell me," Leona said, nodding with a smile as her interest piqued.
Even though it was a trivial story, Leona listened with sparkling eyes. She smiled and reacted at all the right moments, clearly engrossed.
"So, for a time, there was a trend of smiths trying to forge swords from the river water, but no one ever managed to create a blade that could summon the river spirits like the one in the legend."
"You're quite the storyteller."
"I suppose so."
Even Rem had admitted that when it came to provoking opponents—or charming them—with words, no one could beat his squad leader. And since he was the squad leader here...
As he nodded, Leona suddenly spoke up.
"Would you like to come with me?"
Encrid tilted his head. "Pardon? Where?"
She was still his charge. Even though the inn was empty because two squads had locked it down following the attack, his mission wasn't over. The request she had commissioned still had two days left. It was only natural that he would follow wherever she went.
"I'm proposing that you join me when I leave the Border Guard."
She spoke abruptly, yet her words felt rehearsed. They carried the distinct weight of someone accustomed to commanding others. Sitting quietly, she parted her red lips.
"Come with me."
Her voice carried the absolute confidence of someone certain that the position she was offering was far superior to his current life.
And Leona truly believed that.
What kind of power did the Lockfried Merchant Guild hold? Though it trailed slightly behind the Rengadis Merchant Guild and other titans, it was still a dominant force in the region. They had established trade relations with the 'Shepherds of the Wilderness' in the far north, the 'Black Leather Guild'—a band of hunters said to be capable of slaying dragons—and the 'Glacier Rangers' who lived in harmony with the mountain peaks.
Those three were their core partners. On top of that, they possessed a map infused with the life's work of the previous leader, who had traveled the entire Pen-Hanil continent.
It was the Lockfried Trade Route Map.
A masterpiece detailing every merchant route, cataloging regional specialties, and outlining the fastest paths through dangerous terrain. It was a treasure so valuable that if someone were to steal and sell it, they would never have to work another day in their life. Such was the scale of the Lockfried Merchant Guild. It was only natural for anyone to covet it.
Especially those who shared the bloodline of the previous leader. They likely considered it their birthright. That very thought must have driven yesterday's daring ambush.
To draw a blade here, of all places...
It infuriated her. Why did their greed have to manifest now? Though she didn't share a single drop of blood with the late leader, she was striving with everything she had to uphold his last wishes. Why did her opponent disregard all of it?
Granted, if not for those last wishes, she wouldn't have come all this way in the first place.
What exactly were the previous leader's last wishes?
"Try to reach an agreement before resorting to killing each other. Will you do that for me, Leona?"
The previous leader was the man who had raised her like his own daughter, yet he was also someone she could not easily call "Father."
Neither the guild nor his bloodline.
It was a final wish made because he could abandon neither his legacy nor his family. Leona understood his heart. He had raised Leona to grow the Lockfried Merchant Guild, yet he could not bring himself to completely cast aside his own flesh and blood.
That was why she was standing here today. The Border Guard of Naurilia—the place chosen as the final bastion where they could speak without drawing swords.
Had it not been for those last wishes, this succession struggle would have ended long ago. And yet, an ambush? Drawing blood in the Border Guard?
Fool.
She cut off her stray thoughts. Her gaze fell upon the man who had saved her.
The first thing that caught her attention was his eyes—striking blue eyes that resembled a deep, clear lake. They were captivating, almost as if they were infused with magic. Black hair, blue eyes, and a well-trained physique. On top of that, he was undeniably handsome.
It was only natural to be intrigued.
He really is remarkably good-looking.
Moreover, his skills were peerless. The way he had burst into the room and subdued the enemy in an instant... and what of his character? After saving her, his simple remark that it was just "his job" had made Leona's heart skip a beat. It had started then.
She wanted him. She wanted to take him with her.
"I promise you a better position and better treatment than anything you have now."
Encrid didn't need to ponder. Had he considered working as a merchant guild guard? If his sole objective were Krona... it wouldn't be a bad option. Living as the elite sword of a growing merchant guild would be a comfortable life.
But he had a dream. He had seen the path forward, and even if his progress was slow, he was currently walking it. He had no time to look away.
"No, thank you."
He sat with his hands resting on his thighs, his back perfectly straight. It was a firm answer delivered with an upright posture. It was best to be clear when refusing.
Leona's pupils trembled.
"Clinging to someone who has already refused you is unsightly," Sachsen's voice drifted from behind. He had come downstairs at some point.
"Indeed. Quite unsightly," the Elf Company Commander chimed in as well.
"Is that so?"
Leona did not fly into a rage or show irritation. She merely nodded calmly. "You must be satisfied with your current position."
That wasn't exactly true, but staying here was the only way Encrid could see a path to climb higher.
"Sigh, my business..."
The innkeeper, who had slipped out during the chaos, let out a heavy sigh. The blue light of dawn was gradually shifting into the golden hues of morning.
"The merchant guild will compensate you for your losses," Leona said. It seemed she had only been waiting for a definitive answer from Encrid before moving on.
"Oh, if you would do that..." The innkeeper rubbed his hands together eagerly.
Leona nodded. "Do not worry. A guest will arrive around noon, so please have things ready."
"Yes, of course!"
She seemed perfectly accustomed to issuing orders while remaining seated. Soon, her nanny came downstairs, and Leona announced she would rest, excusing herself from the hall.
Sachsen approached Encrid and leaned in. "There are plenty of pretty women in the territory, kid. No need to go messing with the heir of a merchant guild."
"I didn't mess with her. I rejected her."
Encrid was no stranger to women pursuing him. His face wasn't exactly a curse, and a well-toned body was an excellent tool for exuding charm.
"Senior Soldier Encrid."
It was the Company Commander. Without even approaching, standing in her usual rigid posture, she called out to him.
"Do you have a history of womanizing?"
"...No."
"Are you in the habit of flirting with every passing woman?"
"I am not."
"Is that so?"
"Yes."
It had to be a joke. Surely. Yet her expression was deadpan and her gaze was utterly calm, making her impossible to read.
I wish they'd drop it already.
"I see," the Company Commander nodded.
Hoping to catch his breath, Encrid stepped outside. Immediately, one of the squad members from the 3rd Platoon called out to him.
"If you go around seducing every woman you see, what are guys like me supposed to do?"
"Who did that?"
"First the Company Commander, and now the Lockfried lady. Damn, you're a charming squad leader, a truly charming squad leader."
The one marveling was the Platoon Leader. Encrid was somewhat acquainted with him; having been dispatched to various missions, he knew quite a few people in the unit.
"It's not like that."
"Ah, so it's not."
"He says it's not."
"The man says it's not," several soldiers echoed, repeating the words like a military chant.
Having been suddenly dispatched to surround an inn, they clearly had nothing better to do. It was understandable that they were bored, but Encrid didn't appreciate them passing the time by teasing him.
Rumors always spread with terrifying speed. Sure enough, it didn't take long for the story to morph. When Krais visited the inn later, he couldn't help but grin.
"Wait, Squad Leader, I heard you bedded the merchant guild master in a single day? How did you pull that off? Even I'd find that tough, and the Lockfried lady is famous for being incredibly proud. Her personality is supposed to be prickly, too."
"She's not prickly."
"Come on, yes she is."
"Since you're here, do some work."
"Huh?"
Instead of engaging in pointless banter, Encrid put Krais to work. He didn't even bother trying to clear up the misunderstanding; he knew Krais was just teasing him despite knowing the truth.
"One of the attackers got away. Find him."
The runner. Encrid was curious about his whereabouts. The Azpen spy who had died by his blade had perished shouting about the glory of his motherland. It would be no fun if the man who actually plotted the massacre got to live.
He must pay the price.
That was only natural. It was the kind of outcome that let people believe justice still existed. Besides, the unit would likely issue an order to find him soon anyway.
"Understood."
With Krais’s connections to the underworld, they could find out almost anything that happened in the territory. Finding one man wouldn't be difficult.
And I'll be earning Krona along the way.
He thought about saving up to purchase a decent shortsword or a guard sword as a sidearm. He had liked the weight of the guard sword he’d used earlier. Ragna had recommended carrying a shield, but a shield never felt natural in his hands.
"In that case, it would be better to grip the sword with both hands and swing. Still, it is always better to have a shield on the battlefield," Ragna had told him.
As a light infantryman, Encrid knew how to handle a shield. An army valued the standardized strength of the collective over a single exceptional individual. A ten-man squad trained in the exact same manner was objectively stronger than a squad with two "heroes" and eight weak links.
As part of that training, Encrid had diligently learned shield formations, even when his subordinates slacked off. But it never clicked. Just as Ragna said, gripping the sword with both hands felt like a much better fit.
If he were to become an existence that shattered the laws of the standardized collective, perhaps a shield wasn't something he needed to worry about.
Not long after Krais left, a man with a spiteful expression arrived, accompanied by about a dozen soldiers.
One of the guards with him caught Encrid's eye. He was a man with sharp, slit-like eyes and arms that hung loosely at his sides. At his waist, he wore a rapier—a slender, lethal blade.
He looks fast.
That was Encrid's immediate impression. The man made no effort to hide his presence, a sign of supreme confidence.
I use a fast sword. Even if you see it coming, you won't be able to block it.
His posture screamed it.
The spiteful man was named Polid. He was the rival competing with Leona for the succession. As soon as he entered, he claimed a table, sat down, and barked an order.
"Hey. Go call Leona."
The one he addressed as "Hey" was Sachsen.
Sachsen, naturally, ignored him.