Chapter 54 - The Turtle and The Frontier Slaughterer (3)

Chapter 54 - The Turtle and The Frontier Slaughterer (3)

Direction is about having a goal, a purpose, or an objective.

A hawk, flying over the green plains, passed overhead.

The sound of the hawk's cry brushed between the two.

It was a winter afternoon that wasn't too cold.

Leaning against the wall of the camp, Enkrid responded to the suggestion with a question.

Torres hesitated.

He pondered for a moment before speaking.

"The soldier ranking system may seem foolish, but at least it sets one clear standard. What is a special-class soldier?"

His voice was quiet, deep, and resonant, as if he could sing a low-toned chant.

His usual thoughts solidified into an answer.

Torres spoke with sincerity and conviction.

"It refers to someone who has reached the limit of human potential. They split their sleep and swing their swords until their hands bleed, right?"

As Torres spoke, he pulled Enkrid's hand.

Enkrid willingly let his hand fall into Torres's.

Turning Enkrid's palm over, Torres said.

"Look."

The palm was hardened, with calluses so thick they had cracked, evidence of countless days spent swinging a sword.

"There are many who put in this kind of effort. But how many of them have talent to go with it? Very few."

Torres shook his head slightly as he spoke.

His words were true.

Enkrid knew well that he lacked the talent, which is why he had worked tirelessly for so long.

"Soldier who have both effort and talent, who have reached the limit of human potential, come together in this group! That's the Frontier Defense Force. You want to improve your skills? Come join us. It'll fill the gap you're missing."

He was asked about direction, but Torres said the group would fill the missing pieces.

Enkrid had found his answer there.

Looking into Torres's eyes, filled with passion, desire, and belief, Enkrid spoke.

"I'm sorry."

It was a rejection.

It could have been an excellent opportunity.

It was a perfect opportunity on the road to a dream that had been torn but never forgotten, or rather, a dream he couldn't forget.

But Enkrid couldn't go.

The Frontier Defense Force could be a step toward a higher place, but it couldn't lead to the world he was aiming for.

'Stopping at the limit is unacceptable.'

Reaching the limit wasn't enough.

The Frontier Slaughterers, a group stationed in the Border Guard, was the most exceptional in terms of killing ability.

But didn't one of its own members just say it out loud?

The Frontier Defense Force was filled with those who had reached human limits.

Enkrid's dream was higher than that.

Of course, thinking that someone who hadn't reached their limit could surpass it was nothing but arrogance.

But he couldn't leave without first pushing forward, not stopping midway before even reaching the destination.

Enkrid shook his head.

"You know the characteristics of our unit, right?"

They turned regular soldiers into excellent killing machines in no time.

He knew.

There was no point in pointless training.

This group was one that trained soldiers to a level far beyond the ordinary.

But the method was the problem.

In truth, the question Enkrid had been asking was a single one.

Had anyone in the Frontier Defense force become a knight?

No.

They learned the most convenient and efficient methods of killing.

That's why they were called the Frontier Slaughterers.

If one compared it to swordsmanship, their style was all about shortcuts and tricks, not fundamental techniques.

You couldn't become a knight using only tricks and shortcuts.

He knew that, and that was why he couldn't go down this path.

"You're an idiot."

But to others, this might seem like the case.

Torres relaxed his eyes.

"I hear that a lot."

"Ha, I never thought I'd be turned down by a man. Can I ask why?"

Should he say it?

Would it only invite mockery?

He had almost always been laughed at when mentioning his dream.

Oh, wait.

'Krang was serious.'

There was no one else.

Rem had just teased him for fun.

The others hadn't reacted well either.

Some instructors had even given him a look that clearly said "crazy."

"I want to go to a higher place than the Frontier Defense."

But Enkrid said it honestly.

He had nothing to hide or conceal.

"A higher place?"

"I want a cloak."

It didn't have to be a crimson cloak specifically, but it was an appropriate metaphor.

The Order of Knights of Naurilia was the only one of its kind.

They were the king's guard, draped in red cloaks, and they symbolized Naurilia's military might.

They were also the only unit authorized to bear the king's insignia.

On their cloaks was the emblem of the kingdom—three swords crossed, shining brightly.

The crossed swords and the mythological creature, the round-headed sun lion with a flame-like mane, were Naurilia's symbols.

He was saying he wanted to be a knight.

Torres understood this well.

And that's why he was taken aback.

"…That's a bit much."

Torres evaluated Enkrid's abilities.

He was outstanding.

At thirty, he had become quite skilled for someone who had just discovered his talent.

But that was about it.

In fact, his skills were on the edge of being insufficient for the Frontier Defense Force.

Unless he was talking about Enkrid's squad members he had encountered earlier in the barracks.

'They won't make it.'

They were problematic for other reasons.

They were all troublemakers.

No matter how much trouble they caused, they still had to listen to orders to be soldiers.

They weren't up to standard in that regard.

If the blade I wield hurts me too, it's not a good weapon.

It's something that needs to be discarded.

"Are you serious?"

"Of course."

He had been completely rejected.

Torres nodded.

He didn't want to crush the other's hopes with harsh words, but this one had to be said.

"You'll regret it."

"Maybe."

Enkrid replied earnestly.

Not all choices were the right ones, so he might regret it.

Torres, the platoon leader of the Frontier Defense Force, turned away without a military salute.

He looked like he was upset, but his shoulders seemed light.

Enkrid watched Torres walk away, then turned and walked toward the barracks.

As he trudged along, Enkrid recalled the conversation he had with Ragna.

"Are you talking about the member of the Red Cloak Knight Order? Are you wondering how he moved like that?"

The shock he had received from seeing the members of the Red Cloak Order was not small.

What was a knight?

How could they move like that?

If he didn't have questions about that, it would be a lie.

After all, the member was only a squire.

"It's too early to know that now."

Ragna had said that, and Enkrid quietly waited for the next words.

As he expected, Ragna continued.

"Knights don't only handle strength. Their bodies carry a very special power. That power isn't something we should discuss right now. It would only be a hindrance."

"Just point me in the right direction. I want to know if I'm heading down the wrong path."

It might have been an unreasonable request, but as Enkrid's abilities grew, he realized that none of his squad members were ordinary.

Among them, he had learned swordsmanship from Ragna and, in the process, had noticed something.

If he had to pick the person closest to a knight in the squad, it would be Ragna.

"Fundamentals are simple and brutal techniques. If you fight, you'll know. Do you think it's faster to develop your skills based on the mercenary swordsmanship, or to train your fundamentals?"

Why are shortcuts called shortcuts?

Why are tricks called tricks?

If all it takes is to fight well, Valen's mercenary swordsmanship was far better than learning basic techniques of a heavy sword style.

"To advance further, you must take the correct path. That's the right way. I think this answers your question."

It was an overflowing answer.

Through the basics, moving forward.

Overcoming countless walls in front of him and walking the right path.

That was what had to be done now.

Enkrid concluded this.

"Krung."

As he entered the lodging, he was met by a beastly sound.

The place was a mess.

A bed pushed aside, a toppled table, and in the middle of it all, Big Eyes, with scratches on its face, was looking miserable.

"Ah, right on the face."

"Quick."

"Panther meat is awful, but meat is meat."

Behind Big Eyes, Ragna and Rem added their comments.

The beast was a black panther.

A young panther with blue eyes, the same one that had fought alongside them before.

He had suddenly disappeared, and they thought they'd never see it again.

Apparently, it had made its way here.

The panther raised its fur and glared at Ragna and Rem, but as soon as Enkrid walked in, it turned and jumped into his arms.

Rem scratched his head with his thumb, holding the axe in his hand, and asked,

"If you'd been a little late, that axe might've cleaved the panther's neck."

"Was that the squad leader's pet?"

"Hm, was it?"

Ragna, a man who was always serious and heavy when talking about knights, returned to his usual lazy demeanor.

He sheathed the sword he had been holding and collapsed onto the bed that had been pushed aside.

Seeing this, Rem lowered his axe.

"Was it the squad leader's?"

Big Eyes, sneaking a glance at the panther, asked,

"Did it scratch you?"

"I was just trying to pet its head."

Big Eyes gauged the injury with his hand, and Rem, chuckling, replied,

"You tried to check if it was male or female and got that result."

"Kark!"

The clever panther seemed to understand and stuck its head out, baring its fangs.

Seeing this, Big Eyes jumped back, startled, but stepped on a fallen water pouch and slipped.

With a thud, he fell on his backside, and Rem burst into laughter.

"Are you alright? How's your face?"

Enkrid also chuckled and asked.

He used to boast that his face was a blessing brought on the Kingdom of Naurilia.

"It's fine. I'll apply holy treatment or some ointment so it won't scar."

Holy treatment for such a scratch?

It's something only if Krona doesn't rot away.

"Well, yeah," Enkrid replied vaguely, then looked down at the panther nestled in his arms.

The one that had bared its fangs was now quietly lifting its head.

It wasn't light, nor small, but holding it now made it feel lighter and smaller than expected.

"Did you come to play?"

Enkrid asked.

The panther seemed to understand.

It blinked and let out a small purr, rubbing its head against Enkrid's chest.

The silky fur felt quite pleasant.

Seeing Enkrid petting the panther's head, Rem said,

"Are you raising it? Guess you won't be bored."

Surprisingly, Rem was lenient with animals.

Ragna and Jaxen had no interest.

The religious squad member, Audin, had no interest either.

Only Big Eyes was still very interested.

"It's a female."

"Hmm?"

"You think I just got scratched on the face and it ended there?"

Big Eyes crossed his arms and said proudly.

'Oh, really? How impressive.'

"Mm."

Enkrid answered and casually started cleaning up.

Rem raised the fallen table, sat on it, and asked,

"Seems like everyone's looking for you now that you're a stronger soldier. What do you think? Frontier defense doesn't sound bad."

Sometimes, Enkrid wanted to peek inside that scheming man's mind.

Though he was playful all day, he suddenly hit the mark with questions like this.

"I'm not going."

Enkrid answered straight away.

He didn't want to cause any unnecessary noise with this.

"Why?"

It was Jaxen, and his words were brief.

"Sir."

He belatedly added formal language.

"Just because."

No need to elaborate.

He tried to move past it, but Rem interrupted.

"Is that the real reason? Even though the soldier rank system is a stupid system, you're past the acceptable level now. You turned down being directly under the kingdom?"

"Well, I guess that must be why."

Ragna, having inferred from previous conversations, joined in, but it only worsened the situation.

"…What the hell, is this bastard trying to act like he knows something? He seems to be acting like he knows."

"Why?"

Jaxen asked again.

This time, the respectful tone didn't follow.

His gaze was impudent.

"Lord, please grant wisdom to these ignorant ones," Audin said, pouring oil onto the fire, and the atmosphere ignited.

It was a situation that couldn't be ignored.

Leaving it unchecked would lead to a pointless fight.

Enkrid knew this from experience.

Those who throw tantrums in the squad always find solutions through displays of force.

"Frontier defenses end goal is to train to reach human limits. That's what the unit is for."

"Is that a problem?"

It wasn't something to be upset about.

When he had discussed the path to becoming a knight with Ragna, Ragna had added one last comment.

"If you're a born talent, a genius, you don't need to learn the basics and engrave them into your body. It'll just happen on its own."

Being a knight was about being a genius.

Among those who are born with martial talent, only a few are selected.

From those, only those at another level of genius is chosen.

Only those can a small part of them become knights.

So, is it a dream that can't even be dreamed?

Something that should never be wished for?

Even if it gets torn, shredded, and vanishes without a trace.

If you haven't discarded it, that dream still remains in your heart.

That's why Enkrid dreamed.

"It's a problem. My goal is higher."

Everyone stared at him blankly.

Enkrid's lips parted.

In a tone and voice as casual as when saying there would be lamb for breakfast tomorrow.

"I will become a knight."

It had been the subject of mockery before.

In fact, Enkrid's dream had always been a subject of ridicule.

So this reaction felt odd.

"You have to pass through a few walls, but well, if you want to, we can do it."

Rem spoke first.

Ragna showed a fiery look in his eyes.

Jaxen simply asked, "Is that so?"

Big Eyes, mouth agape, couldn't close it.

Audin clasped his hands and prayed,

"Though dreams and hopes may seem in vain and unseen, may grace be granted to the ones that clings to them through effort."

There was no need to be moved by the prayer.

In truth, even if they mocked him, nothing would have changed.

Enkrid was that kind of person.

What was more important than others' mockery and scorn was the dream he held.

High ranking soldier.

A rank that was recognized properly within the soldier ranking system.

In reality, this was just the beginning.

Building up his skill and making his name known to become a knight.

Kyarung.

The panther cried out and poked Enkrid's cheek.

It felt almost like encouragement.

"Smart one."

Rem chuckled upon seeing this.

Even though it didn't matter, Enkrid's heart jolted.

It was the first time he received encouragement instead of mockery.

'Lately, a lot of things are happening for the first time.'

No matter what anyone said, it was a joyful moment.

***

Enkrid spent the next two days as usual, training.

On the third day, he went on a market patrol.

Whoosh.

Then, he was stabbed in the belly with a dagger.

It was a fatal wound.

It felt like a hot metal skewer had pierced his abdomen and shredded his insides.

"Damn."

Enkrid chuckled with blood dripping from his mouth.

It was an utterly unexpected strike.

Ahhh!

A scream from a passing woman echoed in the market.

As Enkrid, dying, heard the scream, he closed his eyes.