Chapter 77: When Bored, Spar
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 77: When Bored, Spar
"We’ll remain here for two days. If the issue isn't resolved by then, I’ll have both of them escorted back to the unit. Once they are in custody, we will address the matter as witnesses or evidence are gathered."
Torres finalized the arrangement. Polid tried to stand up in protest, but the ridiculous bastard at his side grabbed his shoulder and whispered something in his ear to settle him down.
Leona remained calm.
"Fine."
She nodded readily, as if this was exactly what she wanted.
Watching the situation unfold, Encrid nudged Sachsen in the ribs. The sensitive Sachsen blocked Encrid's finger with his palm.
"What is it?"
"Since when did you have a hobby of collecting swords?"
Encrid hadn't known. He had never seen Sachsen show such an interest before. Moreover, all of Sachsen's belongings in the barracks were standard issue; he was a man who didn't seem to care for personal possessions.
"It's Carmen's Stiletto," Sachsen replied, as if that explained everything.
Encrid didn't know much about it. He had only overheard that the Carmen Collection was famous and expensive. Seeing Encrid's clueless reaction, Sachsen spoke again.
"You couldn't buy it with dozens of gold coins even if you wanted to. Do you know who Carmen is? He isn't called a master craftsman for nothing. If just one of his blades appears on the black market, people will kill each other for it. In fact, a few years ago, there was a massive uproar among the assassin guilds when the Katar, the third piece of the Carmen Collection, surfaced."
Encrid didn't know this either, but it hadn't been just an "uproar"—many who made a living by assassination had died for it. Only the rumor remained that the Dagger of Geor, the continent's greatest assassination group, had eventually recovered it.
"The Stiletto is Carmen's fourth work."
The first was a pocket knife. Because it was the first blade he used to kill a person, it was named 'First Murder,' though it was rumored to have been broken and lost long ago.
The second was a thin, long cane sword—the Stick Sword.
The third was the Katar, and the fourth was the Stiletto.
For the fifth, he made a single-edged hunting dagger, and for the sixth, a Sword Breaker.
For the seventh, he crafted the Invisible Blade, whose edge could not be seen even when drawn in broad daylight.
Seven daggers, and seven stories. That was the reason Carmen's name had endured to this day. He had made exactly seven weapons for seven targets, and every single one was for the sake of revenge.
With 'First Murder,' he killed the slave trader who had been his master.
With the second, the 'Stick Sword,' he stabbed the back of the soldier who had violated his sister.
With the third, the 'Katar,' he killed the squire of the noble who led that soldier.
With the fourth, the 'Stiletto,' he pierced the heart of the noble himself—the squire's master.
With the fifth, the 'hunting dagger,' he slit the throats of those who lived off the noble's payroll, one by one.
And with the sixth, the 'Sword Breaker,' he shattered the sword that the noble cherished, completing his revenge.
Rumors circulated that the final, seventh weapon, the 'Invisible Blade,' ultimately failed to fulfill its purpose. Others whispered that because the final target of his revenge was actually himself, he had plunged it into his own heart to die.
But the truth would remain forever unknown. After all, it was a story from decades ago.
"Do you walk around with that entire story memorized?"
Sachsen had poured out the whole tale in a quiet, steady stream. Encrid hadn't been able to interrupt him. Though Sachsen's tone was calm, a strange heat had flared in his eyes the entire time he spoke. It was a passion bordering on madness.
Sachsen replied nonchalantly, "I just know it. I didn't memorize it."
Only then did he return to his usual self.
"It seems we'll be stuck here for another two days."
He wanted to rush out immediately, but their escort duty held him back. Duty had to be fulfilled, after all. However, to Encrid, this sudden shift in attitude looked like an attempt to change the subject.
No way.
A strange thought crossed Encrid's mind as he looked at Sachsen.
Is he... embarrassed?
Sachsen's face hadn't turned red, nor was there any sign of panic, but the intent to change the subject was glaringly obvious.
"I'd like to go catch them myself, but we can't just abandon our escort duty."
It was as if Sachsen was urging him to move on to this topic quickly.
"If you get the Carmen Collection piece, are you going to sell it?" Encrid nudged him, finding it fascinating.
"Why would I sell it?" Sachsen retorted, his eyes widening more than usual.
He really seemed to love it. It wasn't even because of the Krona; he purely wanted that stiletto. What a unique taste. Well, yes, to someone, it could be an incredible item. Especially Krais—he would probably drool over it, knowing how fat his pockets would get if he sold it.
But if one looked at it purely for its collectible value, wasn't his taste a bit too peculiar? It was a dagger an assassin used to kill people. Setting aside its fame, what on earth was he thinking, wanting to keep such a thing? It wasn't like he was an idle noble with a morbid hobby.
Still, Encrid didn't press or ask further. He simply maintained his usual attitude. He made it a rule not to pry too deeply into his squad members' personal lives. That was the secret to how he had maintained his position as squad leader until now.
Leaving Sachsen be, Encrid shifted his gaze toward Polid's side. In one corner, he saw the plainly dressed man—the ridiculous bastard—and the swordsman with drooping arms talking. The two were whispering, and Encrid's eyes met those of the man wearing a rapier.
The man's gaze swept past Encrid. Encrid stared back at him. He still felt the urge to have a match with him.
*
"Things have gotten complicated."
"Guess we chose poorly."
"It was an unavoidable choice, though."
"Is that so?" the swordsman asked back. His tone was bored. He didn't really care. His eyes swept over the elf and the opposing party. They're an interesting bunch.
The elven wench, in particular, piqued his interest. Their 'Naidel' was said to be a sword of speed. He felt a desire to test himself against her. Even before that, the ones beside her looked quite decent. What would it have been like if they were under his command?
They would have been worth raising.
Neither of them was bad. He especially liked the way the guy with reddish-brown hair walked. He was quiet, and always ready to draw his sword at any moment.
"What do we do now?"
"What have we always done when things got complicated?" At the swordsman's question, the man grinned. It was a grin hard to hate. "We solve it with brute force."
"Then let's do that."
The swordsman looked at the opponent who had briefly met his gaze. It was a soldier with a rather handsome face. He didn't seem that young, yet looking at him felt like watching a kid who had just picked up a sword and gotten excited. Showing his competitive spirit so openly like that...
It would be a lie to say he wasn't drawn to it. Isn't it a swordsman's destiny to want to clash when an opponent shows such bravado?
"I'll leave it to you."
The brown-haired man bowed his head slightly, then went over to Polid and began to soothe him.
"Don't get worked up. There's nothing to worry about. After all, if there's no evidence, that's the end of it. More than anything, once we return to the territory, whose side do you think the merchant guild's people will take?"
"But, but, what if they catch them?"
"Even then, it's fine." The brown-haired man smiled with his eyes. Polid was still anxious, but having no other choice, he forced a smile. "Trust me."
At his words, Polid squeezed out some courage and added, "Once we get back, it's over. They're all my father's people, so they'll all back me up. Then, that whore is as good as dead. Though that's a bit of a waste, so maybe I'll take her in as a concubine."
Would it really go that way? The brown-haired man thought Polid was an idiot, but he didn't let it show on his face.
Leona watched the two of them in silence. They weren't within earshot. The brown-haired man trusted the brute force the swordsman spoke of. Meanwhile, the swordsman was wondering if beating down the soldier who had shown him such competitive spirit would allow him to fight the elf.
*
Sachsen heard their conversation, but he didn't care. It looked like a mere performance to reassure the idiot Polid. He only wanted Carmen's Stiletto.
Krais.
He inwardly hoped Krais had thoroughly worked over the guild members by now. He also trusted him to some extent. Though Krais was terrible at physical labor, his resourcefulness was outstanding. Sachsen had seen enough of him while serving in the same squad. There was no need to worry.
And if things go south...
He could always obtain the dagger through other means.
As Encrid stepped back, respecting Sachsen's hobby, Torres, having wrapped up the situation, approached.
"Have you been well?"
"No reason not to be."
"True enough. Looks like we'll be killing time at the inn for two days."
It was just as Torres said. But did they really have to spend that time doing nothing? Encrid believed Krais would do his part. The underworld had its own rules, and work was best left to the experts.
What kind of guy was Krais? He was someone who had gone out of his way to join the Troublemaker Squad. The reason? There were probably many, but the clearest one was that in the Troublemaker Squad, he didn't have to fight himself. The atmosphere was entirely different from other squads. He knew exactly how to find his place.
When Krais said he would take over the guild, he must have had his own plans. Encrid trusted that. Sure enough, around that evening, a messenger sent by Krais arrived.
"Is there someone named Encrid here?"
It was a boy who looked to be about thirteen or fourteen, his voice just beginning to crack. Looking terrified, he rolled his eyes, glancing left and right as he asked. The soldier guarding the inn gestured toward the inside.
Encrid, who had already been training his body in the hall using chairs and tables for the Isolation Technique, heard this and stepped forward. Since he had been shirtless, he had simply draped a large cloth over his upper body. As he stepped outside, the cold wind instantly cooled the sweat dripping from his forehead. The weather was incredibly cold.
"I am."
The boy, wearing a coat made of thin, layered cloth, stared blankly at Encrid and said, "I'm here on an errand."
The boy's tone was surprisingly sharp. Encrid pulled a few copper coins from his pocket. Seeing the boy trembling with fear and looking around anxiously, Encrid figured he could use a few coins. He also liked the boy's sharp attitude.
However, the boy unexpectedly refused the Krona.
"No, thank you. I get paid by the guild."
Having refused, the boy handed over a small note. It was quite impressive. It made it seem as though Krais had perfect control over the guild. For a mere errand boy to refuse Krona...
"Who is that?" One of the soldiers surrounding the inn approached and asked.
Encrid honestly replied that it was a kid sent by Krais.
"What is he up to out there now?"
Krais was a resourceful man who dabbled in various affairs, dealing in information, selling tobacco, and calling in prostitutes. Hiring a kid to run errands was a perfectly ordinary thing for him to do.
Encrid went back inside and unfolded the note.
—By the morning of the second day.
It was a brief message, but the meaning was clear. It meant they would catch them soon.
"Can I ask what you're doing all day?" Torres asked from behind as Encrid tossed the note into the fireplace.
"Training."
"During an escort mission?"
"It doesn't look like anyone's going to ambush us right this second."
"Still, doesn't the client say anything?"
"As you can see."
"It's a good sight to see," Leona chimed in, also watching.
Encrid didn't care who was watching. Hadn't Audin said so?
"The Isolation Technique is about adding one day to another. Think of it as painstakingly building a fortress wall of your body, using today as your foundation."
Encrid had thought it was a wonderfully poetic way of telling him not to skip a single day. He had resolved to keep those words as much as possible. Encrid was a man who followed through once he made up his mind. He integrated the Isolation Technique into his daily sword training.
"Aren't you bored of that?"
No way. It was nothing but fun. The joy of watching himself change day by day. While training, he maintained his Blade's Sense and utilized Single-Point Focus. Only the Beast's Heart was a technique that couldn't be easily used during training. And so, he was performing the technique shirtless once again.
"Perhaps because you're the daughter of a merchant guild, you don't seem to mind the lack of modesty," Torres said with a chuckle, sitting backward on a chair.
Instead of answering, Leona responded with a light smile. As she did, she admired Encrid. That face, that body. Even the sweat dripping from him as he trained. He was exactly her type.
Encrid continued to move, still ignoring the gazes of everyone around him. Watching this, the Elf Company Commander sat on the inn's stairs and asked Sachsen, "Does he usually enjoy being stared at? The soldier's squad leader?"
"I don't know," Sachsen replied curtly.
The commander didn't press or ask further. She, too, was closely observing Encrid. After all, a handsome face and a well-trained body were always welcome sights.
Encrid pressed his palms against the chair, extending his legs straight forward and shifting his weight onto his forearms. Every time his body lowered beneath the chair and rose back up, the outer muscles of his forearms twitched.
As Torres watched this, two more members of the Border Guard joined him.
"Is that guy the one?"
"The Sorcery Breaker who looked down on us? Yeah, that's him."
The two spoke loud enough for him to hear. Since Encrid had just finished a round of his technique, he made a proposal to Torres.
"If you're bored, how about a spar?"
It was time they had to kill anyway. There was a large empty lot behind the inn. It was a facility meant for the inn's guests—a space for mercenaries or swordsmen guarding merchant caravans. A place where fights would break out whenever tempers flared. Thus, it was a perfect spot for a spar.
"The lady is quite generous," Torres said, looking back at Leona.
Without a moment's hesitation, Leona nodded. "I'll get to see a good show."
Torres had asked indirectly if it was alright, and Leona had granted permission immediately. Torres's own body was itching for some action as well. Above all, the two Border Guard soldiers behind him were even more thrilled.
"They say he's a Senior Soldier."
"Are you going first, Captain Torres? Shouldn't we work our way up from the bottom for something like this?"
Everyone seemed highly interested in Encrid. Encrid, for his part, was delighted to have more opponents.
"Let's all do it."
From that moment on, an untimely craze for sparring swept through. Since drawing real swords might turn a spar into something more, they broke off suitable tree branches to use as substitutes, but everyone was dead serious.
"Count me in too," the Elf Company Commander joined, and everyone inside the inn became spectators.
"They're insane."
Only Leona's guards shook their heads in disbelief. These people were all crazy. Sparring in the middle of an escort mission? Of course, they couldn't stop it. It was a stage permitted by their master, Leona.