Chapter 99: Even If Luck Isn't on My Side (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 99: Even If Luck Isn't on My Side (1)
Waking at dawn, Encrid faced the exact same "today" once again.
He began by tempering his body with the Isolation Technique. It was the start of the cycle, a complete reset. For the most part, the morning unfolded identically to the previous one. He trained under the watchful eyes of the scouts and Torres.
Once his dawn routine was finished and his swordsmanship drills were complete, Encrid began inspecting his gear. In the previous loop, he had forgotten to check his equipment after the battle with the ghouls.
Starting again from here.
This was the true beginning of a new today. It was the moment to decide his direction. Should he crawl through that dog hole again, or should he forge a different path?
He raised his sword, holding it parallel to the ground before tilting it slightly to eye level. He scanned the blade for chips; it was pristine. As he stared at the steel, his thoughts sharpened.
The highest priority in this repeating day was clear.
First, assess the situation.
There were three potential paths to break through. He wanted to know what lay at the end of each one. Since the three options were laid out before him as if waiting, he needed to scout them all. How he would eventually reach tomorrow was a question for later.
He wiped the blade with a piece of leather, checked the rest of his kit, and then did something deliberate: he unwrapped the leather strap around his hilt and rewrapped it.
This was his marker—a sign that he was starting a different version of today. Since he couldn't keep a physical tally of the mounting loops, he had devised this method during his very first repetition. Rewrapping the grip marked this as the second distinct attempt of this cycle. Encrid committed the action to memory.
"If we're moving out this morning, shouldn't we get a move on?" Torres asked, chewing on breakfast jerky. Ever since he’d tasted the seasoned variety, he had been sticking to Encrid’s side every morning.
Encrid was about to respond when he saw Finn approaching.
She carried a hand axe on her left hip and a shortsword on her right, her feet clad in thick-soled boots. She wore thin, well-tanned leather armor that Encrid had previously noted moved fluidly with her body.
It must be light.
Her gear was the hallmark of a scout. Even among the light infantry, the scouts moved with the bare minimum.
"Rangers go first."
That was their slogan. Because they walked at the very front of the vanguard, they traveled as light as possible. Compared to heavy infantry, Encrid was also considered light, but his gear was a burden compared to theirs. Even a single longsword could be an encumbrance in their line of work.
He wondered how skilled she actually was in a life-or-death struggle. He had been curious for days. Judging by the physical conditioning she had achieved through the Isolation Technique, she didn't look like she would lose easily, even to someone like Torres.
As it happened, he would have time to spare today. The first step to a different today was simple: eliminate the option of shoving his head into that hole first thing in the morning.
"How about we scale the wall at night instead?" Encrid said abruptly as Finn drew near.
Beating around the bush only wasted time. Sometimes, laying one's intentions bare was the most effective way to seize control of a conversation. Encrid was highly adept at this.
"All of a sudden?" Finn asked, tilting her head in confusion.
"I have a bad feeling," Encrid replied without missing a beat.
He knew exactly what the men in the unit called him. Aside from "Charming Squad Leader" or "Sorcery Breaker," the most common description of him was: The man loved by the Goddess of Fortune.
If any other soldier or commander claimed to have an ominous feeling, it might be ignored. But when Encrid said it, people listened.
"A bad feeling?"
Finn didn't know his reputation, so her skepticism was natural, but Torres was different. Torres stared at Encrid for a moment, stroked his chin, and spoke up.
"If all three methods are the same to you anyway, isn't scaling the wall fine?"
He agreed immediately. He didn't even ask for a reason, accepting Encrid’s "feeling" as gospel.
Finn stopped tilting her head and looked at them both. "You do realize climbing that wall is no easy task, right?"
"Nothing in this world is easy," Encrid countered.
When two out of three people on a journey are in agreement, the decision is made. In truth, Finn didn't particularly care which path they took; that was why she had offered all three options in the first place.
Finn nodded. "Sure, why not."
There was no need for a battle of nerves. Finn also had a subtle, growing respect for Encrid.
"How about a round?" Encrid asked, fastening his sword—its grip newly wrapped—to his waist.
"Oho," Torres chimed in, grinning.
The challenge was, of course, directed at Finn.
"With me? Combat isn't exactly my specialty," she demurred.
As if. There was no way someone with her level of conditioning wasn't a fighter.
"And swordsmanship isn't my specialty either," Finn added, shrugging and showing her palms.
"Bare-handed, then," Encrid suggested. "We shouldn't risk getting hurt before an important mission."
He didn't know if it would be a "valuable" experience in the grand scheme of the loop, but seeing her well-trained frame made his competitive spirit flare. He wanted to clash with her.
Just as Torres had before, Finn suddenly felt a spark of desire to spar, her favorable impression of Encrid turning into martial curiosity.
It’s been a while.
She, too, had once burned with a passion for training, though she had stepped back after hitting her perceived limits. Still, she wasn't someone who would be easily toppled—even by the man who had slain ghouls.
If we're doing this without blades... She didn't think she would lose. Everyone had a specialty, and Finn’s was one-on-one, bare-handed combat.
"Oh, it's been a while since we've seen the Captain do this," one of the scouts said. He was a man who looked like a bandit but spoke with surprising gentleness—the same one who had dried Encrid’s clothes for him.
The fact that he said it had "been a while" confirmed that Finn’s skills were well-known among her crew.
"Cut the nonsense," Finn said, her eyes gleaming. She was already shifting into a combat stance. "We have until nightfall, after all."
Consent given, Encrid unfastened his scabbard. He stripped off his gambeson and leather armor, standing in only a thin shirt secured tightly across his chest with leather straps.
The scouts and Torres formed a wide circle, clearing a space in the dirt. Torres took a spot near the center, chuckling. "Somehow, this feels like a scene I've witnessed before."
He was thinking of their promotion sparring. He looked at the Encrid standing before him now.
He’s changed so much.
The progress was staggering. To Torres, it felt like Encrid had taken a massive leap forward in a matter of days.
"Let's begin."
The match started instantly. Finn’s specialty was close-quarters grappling, and she made no effort to hide it. She shifted her weight, dancing left and right as she closed the distance.
Encrid had learned striking from Audin. He spread his feet and stepped forward, thrusting his left hand out in a straight line. A straight punch has a shorter trajectory than a swing; it was fast, resembling the piercing thrust of a sword.
Finn’s reaction was almost acrobatic. With her eyes locked on his, she dropped her center of gravity to dodge. Moving only as much as was strictly necessary, she let Encrid’s fist graze her hair.
This movement...
It reminded him of his mission escorting Leona Lockfried. Back then, he had dodged a thrown dagger with a mere tilt of his head. Finn moved with that same terrifying efficiency.
His concentration deepened. As he tracked her body, his gaze met hers. A fierce, predatory light emanated from her eyes. They plunged into the clinch.
A tackle?
His hesitation was a mere heartbeat; his judgment was swift.
Whoosh!
Instead of retracting his left fist, he drove his right elbow downward. It was a violent strike intended to hammer into her back if she didn't move.
Finn dodged that, too. Her movements were serpentine. Her waist flexed fluidly, and through a series of mysterious steps, she suddenly took Encrid’s right flank. Before he could pivot, her hands had already clamped onto his wrist and forearm.
Encrid reflexively surged with power to wrench his arm free. Simultaneously, Finn hooked the inside of her calf around his shin.
The fight devolved into a frantic struggle for leverage. Dodging, blocking, grappling, and rolling—they tumbled across the clearing, their heads occasionally knocking together with a dull thud. In the heat of the scramble, limbs ended up in awkward places, but neither cared.
Eilkaraz-style.
Encrid recognized the technique. It was another piece of lore Audin had shared. Eilkaraz was one of the most infamous prisons on the continent. Generations ago, a prison guard there had developed a style designed to subdue violent inmates without leaving permanent wounds while inflicting excruciating pain.
It focused on joint locks over strikes. Its practitioners were nicknamed the "Kings of the Dirt Floor," a title earned by rolling through the filth of the prison yards to prove their dominance. It was as notorious as it was effective.
Encrid countered with the Valaf-style joint locks Audin had taught him—techniques his mentor had jokingly referred to as "bed combat"—but Finn’s proficiency was on another level.
"Do you yield?"
Just as he thought he had secured a defense, his neck was trapped between Finn’s legs. A sharp twist could snap his spine. Caught in the hold, he couldn't help but notice how incredibly firm her thigh muscles were.
"I lose," Encrid grunted, his airway constricted.
"I don't know how it would go with swords, but this is my domain," Finn said, releasing him.
Both were coated in thick dust. Ocher-colored powder drifted from their hair as they stood.
"I need to wash up. Want to join?" Finn asked.
"I'll go later," Encrid replied bluntly. It was a proposal that was essentially an invitation to strip down together.
"Tch." Finn clicked her tongue playfully and stood up. She patted the dirt off her backside. "See you tonight, then."
After she departed, Torres walked over with a smirk. "If you're going to hold each other like that, why don't you two just go find a cave?"
Encrid stared at him, confused. Torres just kept grinning.
"You lasted the longest out of anyone who's rolled with the Captain," the scout next to him added.
Encrid realized they were right. Our bodies were pressed together the whole time. He had been too focused on the technique to notice the intimacy of the struggle.
However, he had gained something valuable. She’s an incredible sparring partner. She wasn't Audin—Audin would talk nonsense while keeping him pinned effortlessly—but in his current situation, she was the best teacher he could ask for. He could use these loops to hone his Valaf-style arts.
Of course, that didn't mean he intended to waste the day. He would still struggle desperately to break the cycle. But having faced this situation so many times now, he felt it instinctively. It was as if the ferryman from his dreams was whispering: How will you escape this time?
Another wall had appeared. He didn't know if he could clear it in a few tries; it wouldn't be easy. But he didn't despair. Encrid remained calm. He wasn't manic, nor was he suffering. He simply accepted the reality.
Understanding the situation came first. Discovering Finn’s hidden strength was merely a bonus.
For the rest of the day, Encrid practiced Torres’s Hidden Knife technique.
"Are you still at it? I've tried teaching that to plenty of people, and trust me, some just don't have the knack for it," Torres advised from the shade of a tree. His previous dismissals had been jokes, but now he sounded genuinely sincere.
Encrid looked up from his training. "Is that so?"
He had heard such things many times before.
"Fine, do what you want," Torres muttered, giving up. He had learned over the last few days that Encrid was pathologically stubborn. "Why did you suggest the wall, anyway?"
"I thought it would be better."
"And your 'feelings' have been right so far?"
"For the most part."
In truth, his "intuition" was the result of repeating the day like a madman. But Torres wouldn't understand that.
"I'll trust you, then," Torres nodded.
Encrid continued his relentless practice. He eventually took time to wash, then caught a brief nap.
"We’re working at night, so get some shut-eye," Torres said, following suit. Finn also took the time to rest.
When Encrid woke, the sun was dipping below the horizon.
"You guys head to the rendezvous. We're clearing out of here," the remaining scouts said. To prepare for the worst, they were abandoning the current camp and relocating.
The three of them set out toward the wall. The path was brutal. Instead of pushing through bushes, they had to scale a rocky mountain in total darkness.
"Aren't we lucky? Two moons are out tonight," Finn remarked, leading the way.
"You call this luck? This path is a nightmare," Torres grumbled.
"I told you. This way is twice as hard as the others," Finn said with a smile.
Finn had attached something to the soles of her boots that made her footsteps nearly silent. Encrid followed her lead, moving as quietly as possible. After crossing the mountain, they pushed through a canopy of thick foliage until the massive walls of Cross Guard finally came into view.
"We're lucky," Finn whispered, staring at the fortifications.
Torres, drenched in sweat, looked up. "You're saying that again?"
"Of course. We didn't run into a single demonic beast or monster on the way."
Encrid was also soaked. Simply keeping pace with a professional ranger was an exhausting feat. And they weren't even finished.
"This is where the real work begins, gentlemen," Finn said, her bright smile signaling the start of a new hell.
Scaling the wall would be far more difficult than the mountain. More importantly, simply approaching the base without being detected was the real challenge.
Encrid looked up, measuring the height of the stone wall against the night sky. This is going to be a massive pain.
But there was no turning back.
"Let's go," he said, following silently behind Finn.