Chapter 100 - When Luck Does Not Follow (2)
"Do you really need to take that longsword?"
It was just before their departure from the campsite and makeshift garrison.
Finn was pointing out the equipment Enkrid and Torres carried.
"Can't I?"
"You've never climbed over a wall, have you?"
Of course, they hadn't.
Climbing a wall wasn't exactly a common experience.
"Let me say this again: travel as lightly as possible. If you wear that thick gambeson, you'll collapse before even reaching the wall."
Finn was right.
Even crossing the rocky mountain ahead was a significant task.
When they finally crossed the mountain and arrived at the wall, Enkrid was grateful he had followed Finn's advice.
"Travel as lightly as possible."
That was the key.
Finn crouched low and approached the wall, sticking close.
Enkrid and Torres followed her lead, keeping their profiles low.
The flames of torches flared vividly in the defensive towers built between the sections of the wall.
"Can we really sneak in unnoticed?"
A chill ran down Enkrid's spine.
The grass underfoot barely reached their shins, offering no real cover.
And it wasn't even a particularly dark night.
If rain obscured the view, it might have been different.
But the surroundings were clear.
Even without the torches, spotting someone moving across the open plain would have been all too easy.
His heart raced.
The idea of scaling the wall seemed distant; they might be shot down by arrows before they even got close.
If not for the Heart of the Beast, his legs might have buckled under the tension.
Enkrid's gaze caught Finn, who led at the front.
She moved without hesitation, low and steady, her steps sure and purposeful.
"Does she have some kind of assurance?"
He had no idea.
Finally, they reached the base of the wall after a nerve-wracking crawl.
The distance they had covered wasn't far if they had sprinted, but the looming shadows of the guards on the tower made such an attempt unthinkable.
"Was this path planned to avoid the sentries' line of sight?"
Torres whispered as soon as they pressed themselves against the wall.
Finn's response was as absurd as it was straightforward.
"Nope. If we got spotted, we'd just run for it."
"...What?"
"We didn't get spotted, though, so it worked out. I've noticed that the guards tend to slack off on bright nights. If it were our people, no chance. But them? Totally different."
It wasn't some grand strategy—it was sheer luck.
"This is insane," Torres muttered.
Enkrid shared the sentiment.
But when he thought about it differently, it made a certain amount of sense.
'Run if you get caught.'
To keep up with a ranger's speed, they'd need cavalry.
But this land?
It was a domain of monsters and beasts.
Terrible terrain for cavalry to maneuver.
If a griffon—a beast known to relish horse meat—were to show up, they'd be doomed.
Griffons required a minimum of a squad of well-trained soldiers to handle, unless a knight was present.
Whether or not griffons were here, cavalry simply wasn't an option.
So the answer was simple.
On a night when the odds were low, move swiftly to the wall.
If they were unlucky, an arrow might fly their way.
But what archer could accurately hit a shadowy figure on a bright night?
It was a bold plan, leveraging the guards' complacency.
"Did you plan your whole day around scaling the wall at night?"
Surely, the timing of their arrival under the dual moons was no coincidence.
When Enkrid mumbled this aloud, Finn turned her head toward him.
The moonlight illuminated one side of her face, leaving the other in shadow, giving her an almost ethereal glow.
With a smirk, she replied, "Sharp, aren't you? Yeah, on dual-moon nights like this, they slack off. You saw the shadows lingering near the guard tower, didn't you? Only two of them. Not many, right?"
Enkrid nodded and glanced up.
Four guard towers rose along the wall, with two sentries per tower.
Not a lot.
"If we climb up, there'll be a walkway, likely narrow."
The structure of the wall was probably similar to other fortifications like the Border Guard's.
He mapped it out in his mind, predicting what they'd face after scaling the wall.
Planning ahead was crucial.
Moving without forethought led to disaster.
And Enkrid wasn't the only one strategizing.
"I just hope we don't exhaust ourselves climbing the wall," Torres murmured, sharing his concerns.
Finn shrugged lightly.
"We've come this far. Just trust in your strength and grip."
Enkrid looked up to gauge the wall's height again.
It was roughly three to four times his own height.
"This way."
Finn led them again.
They reached a section of the wall cast in deep shadow by the moonlight and the towering guard towers.
Pressing against the wall, the surroundings seemed pitch black.
In the distance, torches burned atop the guard towers.
Close by, he could feel Torres and Finn's presence.
A distant, mournful sound of a night bird broke the silence.
Beyond that, the only contrast was between the moonlit ground ten paces away and the encroaching darkness around them.
Finn's eyes gleamed faintly in the darkness.
Though her eyes appeared brown during the day, now they seemed to reflect the faintest light.
"Walls like this aren't as heavily guarded as you'd think. It's rare to find anyone whose job is strictly to prevent wall scaling. You just have to avoid the patrols."
"Do you know their patrol schedules or have someone bribed?"
"Do I look like I'd have that?"
"So, back to relying on luck again."
Finn and Torres whispered to each other.
For Enkrid, it didn't seem entirely reliant on luck.
"Moonlight."
They just needed to slip past the patrols and hide in the city once they crossed.
"Beyond this wall is the slum area. We can blend in if we're careful."
Patrols in that area would likely be minimal.
Why wouldn't they be?
Even the Border Guard neglected such areas.
No soldier enjoyed the stench or the constant begging from the residents.
And at night?
Wandering drunks or desperate vagrants might pose a threat.
In other words, this infiltration wasn't just a gamble but a maneuver built on experience.
"You've done this before," Enkrid remarked.
"You're pretty sharp," Finn replied with a grin.
Scaling walls wasn't something most would consider lightly.
Which made it unexpectedly easier.
Who'd bother scaling the wall when a tunnel or other means might suffice?
It was precisely because it was unconventional that it worked.
Of course, it was far from easy.
From traversing the rocky mountain to preparing to climb the wall, nothing had been simple.
Finn spat into her hands, rubbing them together, and then reached for a small leather pouch at her waist.
The pouch was filled with powdered chalk.
She sprinkled it onto her hands, rubbed them, and began climbing the wall.
Finding gaps to grip, she pressed her fingers into the stone and pushed off with her feet, clinging to the wall.
Despite its solid construction, the wall had plenty of cracks between its stones.
Finn began climbing the wall, pausing periodically to drive the stakes she had tucked into her belt into the crevices at a diagonal angle.
From top to bottom, the stakes formed a slanted path.
She hooked a rope onto each stake and let it dangle, then continued scaling the wall with her bare hands.
"Do you think you could do that?"
"Me? Not a chance."
Enkrid and Torres, hidden in the shadows cast by the moonlit wall, exchanged words as they watched Finn climb.
She moved like a monkey—or perhaps a nimble squirrel—efficiently dropping ropes as she ascended.
Enkrid and Torres grabbed the ropes and began their climb.
The stakes, driven diagonally into the wall, creaked and shed bits of stone dust, but they held firm.
They didn't rely solely on the ropes.
When gaps appeared among the interwoven stones, they wedged their toes or fingers into them for support.
Both men had covered their hands in powdered chalk they had prepared, gripping the ropes or pressing fingers and toes into the crevices to steady themselves when they paused for breath.
At first glance, the climb seemed manageable, but once started...
I might die here.
It was far harder than expected.
Even Enkrid, honed by the Isolation technique, felt his muscles burning.
His forearm muscles, in particular, throbbed sharply.
This was despite years of wielding and swinging a sword, which had strengthened them significantly.
"Different movements activate different muscles," Audin's words resurfaced in his mind.
Viewed in that light, climbing the wall was a perfect exercise to complement the Isolation technique.
Looking up, he saw Finn scaling the wall briskly, her movements sure and steady.
If there's a start, there's an end.
After much effort and exertion, they finally reached the top of the wall, roughly three to four times the height of an average man.
Carefully hooking their hands and feet onto the edge, they pulled themselves over and dropped down on the other side.
When Enkrid set foot on the ground, he sensed no one nearby.
His instincts and sixth sense told him it was safe, offering a moment of relief.
"You worked hard climbing up in the middle of the night."
A clear, melodic voice shattered the silence.
It was a woman's voice.
Then came a sharp snap—crack!—followed by the sound of multiple torches flaring to life.
Flames ignited between the torch stands, illuminating the moonlit area with a brilliant glow.
Some trick had been performed to light the torches with a mere snap of her fingers.
It was a surprising feat, the kind you'd see in a circus.
But surprise wouldn't freeze their actions.
"Haah."
As his eyes adjusted to the torchlight, Enkrid took a deep breath, inhaling the air that had been burning his lungs during the climb.
His hands moved swiftly.
A dagger slipped from his belt and flew from his hand.
It wasn't the silent Whistle Dagger but a standard throwing knife.
The technique he had learned made it as precise as it was sharp.
Thud!
Another dagger followed Enkrid's, slicing through the air.
But both daggers deflected, not blocked by a shield but repelled in midair as if hitting an invisible barrier.
The sound they made was akin to someone striking a poorly made drum.
"Well, that's just rotten luck," Torres muttered, his voice full of frustration.
"Why?" Enkrid asked without turning, gripping another pair of daggers in his hands.
"A mage," Torres replied grimly.
A mage?
Here?
That was Enkrid's first thought.
It was then he finally saw her, standing between the torches.
A woman silhouetted by moonlight and firelight, her long, wavy hair falling over her shoulders.
Her slit, snake-like eyes gleamed in the dim light.
The distance was barely ten steps.
The soldiers around her numbered fewer than ten, each armed with crossbows aimed steadily at them.
This is bad.
It was the only conclusion he could reach.
The mage was about to speak when Finn's voice rang out.
"Get down!"
Enkrid instinctively crouched low, pressing himself against the narrow wall behind him.
Then—
Whoosh!
A heavy object tore through the air, brushing past Enkrid's face and displacing the air with a palpable force.
He felt it against his cheek.
A thrown axe.
Realizing it immediately, Enkrid looked forward and finally saw the transparent barrier reflecting the moonlight—a defensive shield barely visible upon close observation.
Crack!
The spinning axe struck the shield with a sharp noise, sending cracks spidering across its surface.
The axe halted in midair as if lodged in the barrier.
"Jump down!" Finn shouted again.
Torres was the first to respond, moving swiftly.
He grabbed the ropes hanging outside the wall and used them to slow his descent.
Finn followed, leaping from the wall without hesitation.
She moved as if she were flying, her descent controlled and deliberate.
Though she wouldn't break her legs if she landed properly, the height was comparable to a five-story building.
A fall from such a height would be fatal if mishandled.
Even so, hesitation wasn't an option.
Enkrid decided.
If we have to escape anyway...
It would be better to deal a blow to the mage before retreating.
Lowering his stance, he gathered strength in his thighs.
Recalling a squire's technique he had once attempted but never mastered...
Thud, boom!
Pushing off the ground with explosive force, he closed the distance in an instant, his blade aimed for the mage's neck.
In his hand was a broad-bladed guard sword.
If the axe could crack the shield, then...
Break it with force and cleave her head.
He remembered how he had killed a mage before.
Get close and strike.
Avoid unseen spells by intuition.
Confidence born of past experience emboldened him.
Though bolts remained, they could wait.
Enkrid saw the mage's slit eyes.
In that moment, meeting her gaze, his limbs nearly went limp.
But his heart—a beast's heart—throbbed powerfully, restoring his strength.
He thought he had her.
But confidence can sometimes be a fatal flaw.
'There are those who deceive your instincts. Be cautious. Mages are such foes,' Jaxen's words echoed in his mind.
Pierce.
The sound of flesh being penetrated.
Followed by searing pain.
"You idiot!"
Finn's voice, shouting from above, confirmed he hadn't fallen to his death.
Cough!
Enkrid's sharpened senses caught the sound of Torres coughing, as if in warning.
When Jaxen had spoken about mages, Enkrid had dismissed it.
After all, he'd killed one before.
He'd evaded spells with his instincts before.
But this time, he had made a grave mistake.
Not all soldiers are equal.
Not all knights are the same.
So, what about mages?
Each one is unique.
Enkrid looked down at his arm, where thorny vines had ensnared him.
A spiked vine pierced his neck.
"I am Lesha of the Thorned Rose," the mage declared.
Her words were the last thing he heard before he closed his eyes.
It was the second end to his day.
When the third day began, Enkrid practiced his swordsmanship, trained his body, and rehearsed Torres's Hide Knife technique using slim stones as substitutes.
It was his way of marking the third day.
And then—
"Can we disguise ourselves as merchants at dawn?"
He inquired about the third method to scale the wall.