Ragna was bewildered but soon gave up thinking.
‘He was a strange person to begin with.’
From his perspective, Encrid was not normal either.
“So, from now on?”
Encrid asked.
“Yes, let’s do it.”
Ragna replied.
Under the clear sky, they began anew by gripping their swords. No, they started by finding the right weapon.
“You have great strength, so there’s no reason to use a light weapon. It would be better to switch to a heavier longsword. Let’s trade.”
Ragna said as he handed over the sword at his waist. Encrid found it shocking.Do people usually hand over weapons they’re used to so easily?
“I haven’t used it enough to get accustomed to it either.”
Ragna continued.
Upon receiving it, it didn’t seem like a very good sword.
The one he had been using seemed better, but he accepted it.
The person teaching him now was Ragna.
He decided to follow his words.
“Got it.”
From an arming sword to a longsword.
The handle was longer, allowing it to be wielded with both hands.
The blade was also a span longer, and it weighed more.
However, it wasn’t a terrible sword.
Though it wasn’t made of the best steel, the balance and finish seemed decent.
“Right hand in front, left hand behind.”
After changing the sword, they started anew with the grip.
Encrid was deeply absorbed in that moment.
And so was Ragna.
Just the presence of the Squad Leader was stimulating. Teaching directly, his enthusiasm soared, and he was engrossed in the moment.
They spent time like that until past noon.
They were so focused they didn’t notice the time passing, even skipping a meal.
“What are you doing, skipping meals and playing around like children?”
Only when Rem came by did Encrid notice the passage of time.
“Come to think of it, I’m hungry.”
Ragna muttered.
“You bastard, did you bother our Squad Leader?”
“Get lost. Barbarian.”
“You get lost. Lazy bastard.”
The two bickered. Encrid, drenched in sweat, let his sword hang low.
He was quite exhausted.
He had resolved to start anew, but it wasn’t something that could happen immediately.
‘It’s not enough.’
Time was woefully insufficient.
Initially, he thought he’d just pick up the techniques with some sense.
He expected that repeating today would improve his skills.
‘It’s the opposite.’
He hadn’t realized how lacking his fundamentals were.
It was something he never considered.
And he realized one more thing anew.
Building fundamentals while being watched by someone skilled in swordsmanship was vastly different from doing it alone.
“What was the intention behind the direction of your toes?”
“Your grip is too loose.”
“Were you trying to thrust or slash?”
“What do you want to do right now?”
“This won’t do. You need to learn how to walk properly first.”
Critiques rained down on him.
Each one became an asset.
Ragna, who had been bickering with Rem, suddenly asked Encrid.
“By the way, do you want to show off your sword skills or something?”
Ragna asked, recalling why he had picked up a sword when he was young.
It would be a lie to say there was no desire to reveal and stand out.
Naturally, Encrid also had ambition, competitiveness, and desires.
Among his fantasies was standing guard in front of a lady and receiving a handkerchief from her.
How could he not?
The desire for recognition is something everyone has.
“I have a lot of that. I really want to show off.”
Encrid replied. He wanted to be cheered by someone and become the protagonist of a bard’s song. Naturally, he had such desires.
Ragna nodded at his words. It seemed like an answer.
“What are you talking about? Anyway, we’ve been summoned. The order to gather has been given because the enemy has started to appear.”
It was time for battle again.
Encrid nodded.
Ragna, looking at Encrid, thought he had done something unnecessary.
‘Will he make it through today?’
What would happen if Encrid went out to the battlefield like this?
An unfamiliar sword, clumsy and awkward skills.
That was what he had built up today.
So he predicted that Encrid would die.
‘He has no talent.’
Throughout the rebuilding of the basics, he realized Encrid’s skills were insignificant.
It wasn’t something that could be achieved overnight.
Ragna briefly blamed himself.
‘Did I push him towards his death?’
Regret. His mouth was the problem.
Nothing good had come from him stepping in.
And he did it again today.
Ragna sighed with regret and made a decision.
‘I’ll stay nearby.’
He wanted to protect him for at least today.
“Enemy!”
The time for battle approached quickly.
Before they could even tidy up the temporary fortifications, the enemy infantry began striding through the tall grass and from the front.
Their march was remarkably fast.
As each unit gathered to see the enemy, the way the enemy troops were forming was peculiar.
Clusters were spread out, and each unit carried long banners.
Flap, flap, flap!
Flags fluttered on the banners they held.
Suddenly, a strong wind blew from the enemy’s side towards them.
As Encrid squinted against the wind hitting his eyelids and looked at the banners and enemy soldiers, he realized this battlefield would be far from easy.
It was an instinct born from the survival instinct that had kept him alive for years.
And it didn’t take long to confirm that his instinct was correct.
“What is this?”
At the front of the lined-up infantry, a platoon leader muttered.
It was a familiar face. The Vengeance Platoon Leader.
The same platoon leader who had given a rather awkward infantry-style farewell when they parted at the medical tent.
And then, a thick fog began to form between the platoon leader ahead and Encrid.
* * *
“We’ve been hit!”
The Fairy Company Commander understood the situation even before her lieutenant spoke.
The keen senses of a fairy allowed her to feel the flow of the battlefield in her skin.
‘Magic? Sorcery?’
A thick fog started to blanket the battlefield. It wasn’t a natural phenomenon. The senses of the fairies, who were friends of nature and the forest, detected something unnatural.
The artificial fog thickened rapidly, soon making it impossible to see even an inch ahead.
“Commander!”
In the voice of her panicked lieutenant, the Fairy Company Commander realized an important fact.
‘No one was prepared for this.’
Suddenly, visibility was gone. Everyone must be panicking.
It wasn’t just a problem for the 4th Company.
If this fog was artificially created, it wouldn’t end here.
That ominous feeling soon became reality.
Thud, thud, thud!
Quarrels and arrows began to fly.
Invisible arrows. A sudden shower of death’s summons from beyond the fog.
With a thud, quarrels embedded themselves into the soldiers around her.
The lieutenant was struck in the head by an arrow and fell.
The Fairy Company Commander sharpened her senses and swiftly retreated.
Arrows landed where she had just been standing.
As she moved back, she drew her sword and swung it.
Ting, ting!
Two arrows hit her sword and deflected. The commander then grabbed the corpse of her fallen lieutenant to shield herself.
If she didn’t, she would die from the blind arrows.
Fog and arrows.
‘A premeditated strategy.’
They had been thoroughly caught off guard.
* * *
“It worked!”
A look of exhilaration appeared in the eyes of the commander of the Duchy of Aspen.
Soon, this battlefield would be adorned with the name of victory.
The resources expended for this were significant.
Failure was not an option.
As soon as the fog thickened, the commander shouted.
“Fire!”
The command, mixed with joy and excitement, was given, and the prepared arrows and quarrels rained down on the enemy.
What Aspen had prepared was sorcery.
The spell was called the ‘Fog of Annihilation’, which blinded the enemy!
The sorcerer smiled with satisfaction at the commander’s cry.
The spell had succeeded.
It was a spell created with the blood of a hundred newborn lambs, calves, and foals, and water from a lake untouched by human hands.
Not only were ordinary materials used.
Much had been sacrificed for the spell. The commander didn’t know the full extent.
In any case, the sorcerer had put his heart and soul into it.
The terrain, the climate, and even the rain-summoning spells performed in the past were all for this.
The ground needed to be wet for the spell to activate.
The blood-soaked flags and banners were the spell’s medium.
The troops protected by the banners were unaffected by the fog. This was the entirety of the sorcerer’s craft.
However, calling it simple would be an understatement.
While the enemy couldn’t see, this side could.
Even a fool would know how effective that is on a large battlefield.
The sorcerer didn’t care about the direction of the fight or its outcome. He was simply pleased with the spell’s success.
“Are you happy because it worked?”
The commander guarding the banner asked.
It was the same commander who had previously cornered Encrid with his excellent swordsmanship.
“We almost failed, so of course I’m happy.”
The sorcerer said, recalling the time the enemy had launched a night raid.
The negative energy from that incident almost wiped out all the prepared magical power.
Thinking back on it still gave him chills.
The commander, listening to the sorcerer, remembered the one who had carried out the night raid.
‘That bastard.’
As a member of the ‘Gray Hound’, the persistent lover, he had always wanted to kill that guy with his own hands.
Somewhere in the enemy lines, that man must be there.
The Aspen commander had not forgotten the face illuminated by the torchlight. The delicate face of the enemy.
He wanted to meet him again.
* * *
As the spreading fog approached, the smell of water became noticeable.
At the same time, visibility vanished.
The Vengeance Platoon Leader, who had been visible until a moment ago, disappeared.
And it wasn’t just him.
Ragna, who had been right next to him, was also out of sight.
“Magic!”
Someone shouted. No, it wasn’t just someone. It was Rem’s voice, filled with irritation.
“Which damned bastard is it?”
Sorcery? What kind of sorcery?
Encrid ducked as he thought.
Suddenly, arrows and quarrels flew overhead.
“Well done. Don’t raise your head.”
A voice came from right next to him. It was Ragna.
Ting! Thud!
Such sounds came from above his head.
The ominous premonition had become reality.
Encrid, with his head lowered, thought.
‘Sorcery.’
Why would a sorcerer be here?
Even among the indigenous peoples of the western frontier, sorcerers were extremely rare. Why would one be here?
The question of why was practically meaningless now.
Encrid dismissed the thought.
Suddenly, a spearhead thrust towards him.
Thump.
The Heart of the Beast responded. Boldness surfaced.
Without it, his body would have frozen, leading to his death.
Encrid instinctively twisted his body to the left and swung his sword upward from below.
Crack!
He couldn’t cut through the oiled spear shaft with his clumsy swing.
The shaft deflected away.
The spearhead had suddenly emerged from the fog.
Encrid tried to gauge the position from which the spearhead had come and moved forward.
Then another spearhead flew at him.
Crack!
He barely blocked it again.
As he blocked it, he thought. His stance was off, and his weight distribution was a mess.
The only thing he did right was gripping his sword tightly.
He had forgotten all the nagging lessons Ragna had drilled into him.
‘What a mess.’
Of course, he didn’t expect to master it after just one lesson.
So, what should he do?
“Move back.”
Ragna said. Encrid moved in the opposite direction of his words.
Thanks to Jaxon, his hearing had become more sensitive.
He couldn’t see, but he could hear.
“Aagh!”
“Ugh!”
“Die!”
“Damn it!”
Amidst the screams and curses coming from all directions, Encrid threw himself forward.
“…Squad Leader!”
He heard Ragna’s startled cry behind him.
And then,
Thud!
A spearhead pierced his neck.
‘Precise.’
Rather than making a clumsy hole in his body, this was better.
A horrible pain spread from his neck to his entire body.
His vision started to go dark.
“Crazy bastard.”
The soldier who had stabbed Encrid muttered. He was startled by Encrid suddenly thrusting his neck forward.
“Die.”
The soldier kicked Encrid. The spearhead slid out, bringing a second wave of excruciating pain.
Encrid felt death approaching.
He knew that in just a few breaths, the darkness would fully envelop him.
He was satisfied with death approaching.
What was terrible, the pain and the fear of death that never became easier to endure, no matter how many times it was repeated?
‘Because of this…’
The ‘today’ where he could learn the basics from Ragna had begun.
And it was so enjoyable.
“Heh.”
Encrid laughed, blood gushing out. The enemy soldier, seeing this, clicked his tongue. He had encountered a madman, completely deranged.
Darkness enveloped him. When he opened his eyes, today had begun again.
* * *
“Why do you go to such lengths?”
Ragna asked. This time, instead of scratching his forehead, Encrid answered immediately.
“Because I want to be good with a sword.”
It was a different answer from before, but the goal remained the same.
“Do you want to learn the sword?”
Of course.
Ragna made the offer again, and Encrid accepted.
The second day of basic training began, the second ‘today’ started.
They stood on the battlefield once more.
The fog spread out.
“What the…? Damn it!”
Rem cursed again. This time, Encrid parried the spear shaft three times before letting the spearhead pierce his neck again.
By bad luck, it only grazed him. His neck skin was torn, spilling blood onto the ground.
‘Damn it.’
The thought of dying from excessive bleeding was excruciating.
Before he could dwell on it, another enemy soldier thrust a spearhead into him. He was grateful.
Thud.
He died once more.
And the third ‘today’ began.
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