Chapter 120 - Doing Well
Chapter 120 - Doing Well
'Looks like we can move on to the next step.'
"Whi-woo-wee-hee."
Rem whistled as he walked.
'If I really push him hard…'
It was thanks to the squad leader's return that he felt this pleased.
He was already looking forward to going back and putting Enkrid through the wringer.
Would it be possible to advance to the next stage of Heart of the Beast?
He was even willing to pass down a secret technique that not even a mountain of gold could buy from him if it were a mainlander asking.
And yet, he was excited about it.
'How strange, how strange.'
Enkrid was truly an odd man.
He didn't particularly do anything, and yet, Rem didn't find him annoying.
Not at all.
He was the kind of person you naturally wanted to take care of.
Was it because of his unwavering dedication, swinging his sword every single day?
Or was it because he silently took on the menial tasks without a single complaint?
If he had to name a reason, it would be difficult to pinpoint.
Sure, those things played a part.
'But I just like the guy, plain and simple.'
There were people like that in life—people you just liked for no reason.
'Didn't expect to feel this way about a mainlander, though.'
As he walked, Rem suddenly stopped and called out to Audin, who was blocking his way.
"Hey, big guy. You pray all the time, but can't you use any of that divine power? Can't you do something about the squad leader's wrist?"
"Shall I split your mouth open, Brother?"
"Huh? You wanna match your height with my axe?"
Enkrid wasn't here.
Audin turned his head, locking eyes with Rem.
A cold tension filled the space between them.
Then, Ragna dragged his feet and walked right between them with a lazy stride.
"…Brother, you really think you can just cut through here because you're feeling lazy?"
"What a lunatic."
The moment Ragna cut through their standoff, the tension fizzled out.
This kind of bickering wasn't new.
Everyone was used to it and didn't bother interfering.
Jaxen was walking off to the side, keeping to himself.
And Ragna—if you took your eyes off him for a second—would veer off in a diagonal direction instead of walking straight.
No one could understand his sense of direction.
Then again, it wasn't a direction issue.
It was closer to him not caring enough to walk properly.
Everyone was doing their own thing, but whether they admitted it or not, including Rem, each of them was thinking about Enkrid, their squad leader.
'I guess I should train him to keep his sword attached to his body at all times.'
Ragna was no different.
Even if he seemed unmotivated without the squad leader around,
he was steadily piling up ideas in his head for when they reunited.
Audin, too.
'Now that the muscle restructuring is complete…'
It was time to move on to the joints.
With adjustments to his muscles and joints, his posture would change, and his physique would transform.
Strengthening his weaknesses.
'Bend, then bend again. Carve, then carve some more.'
There was even a way to make his body impervious to grapples and strikes.
But if he went that far, there'd be nothing left of the squad leader's body.
'I'll take it one step at a time, Lord.'
Audin ended his thoughts with a prayer.
Jaxen wasn't much different.
'He really needs to fix his gait.'
Not necessarily to the level of an assassin's silent footwork,
but loud steps often came with unnecessary movements.
'Minimal movement, maximum efficiency.'
Jaxen reflected on his own training, searching for anything useful.
It wasn't swordsmanship, but—
'It'll still help.'
Jaxen had a keen eye.
He knew that what he taught would become part of Enkrid's foundation.
Still, he occasionally questioned himself.
'Do I really need to?'
It wasn't like he had to teach him anything.
Unless Enkrid asked first.
Until then, he'd stay put.
That was his decision.
Of course, even if he decided that, if those other fools—the barbarian, the religious zealot, or the slacker—started teaching, he might just get swept up in the moment.
But he'd try to hold back.
The idea of being lumped in with them was revolting.
To an outsider, they all looked the same.
One was whistling an annoying tune and picking fights.
Another wandered aimlessly, barely paying attention to his surroundings.
A giant soldier mumbled prayers to himself.
And the last one, as if to prove he wasn't part of them, kept his distance, lost in thought.
Was this what a proper unit looked like?
Of course not.
Even as a troublemaker squad, they had always stood out.
But now that they'd been reorganized into an independent platoon, it was more obvious than ever.
It was hard to call them well-trained soldiers.
Even their march was disorderly.
They were supposed to be under the 4th Company's command, yet they weren't marching with the rest of the company.
With fewer than ten men, the term "independent platoon" was laughable.
And yet, no other soldiers dared to mess with them.
'Leave them be.'
'Bother them, and we'll be the ones suffering.'
'If you want to die, go ahead and provoke them.'
After countless experiences, everyone had learned their lesson. These guys weren't just troublemakers—they were crazy.
A squad with strength bordering on madness.
As they continued marching, the distance from the rear camp to the forward base was about half a day on foot.
If a full unit was moving, that's how long it would take.
As individuals, they could go faster, but—they had set the march's pace carefully, since they'd be heading straight into battle upon arrival.
It wasn't a long enough journey to warrant resting along the way.
If they kept moving, they'd reach the base before noon.
In other words, unless there was an issue, no one had any reason to stop the march.
"Stop."
A soldier in the lead relayed a signal from the front.
The march came to a halt.
At the very front, the fairy company commander raised a fist.
"What's going on?"
The 3rd Company Commander, Rayon, asked from the side. The 3rd and 4th Companies had rejoined after temporarily splitting.
"There's something off over there."
The fairy company commander pointed.
What was it?
Rayon frowned.
He didn't see anything.
The fairy company commander's finger pointed toward the riverbank.
The Pen-Hanil River.
The lifeblood of Naurilia and the primary water source for nearby kingdoms.
"Something's hiding."
Several large rocks lined the riverbank, providing good cover.
Sometimes, ghouls would pop out from behind them.
A little further ahead, the Forest lay to the right, filled with magical beasts.
But this was a battlefield.
Any common beasts or monsters had long been cleared out.
It was rare for anything to attack an army.
So, if something was lying in wait—
'It's the enemy.'
The fairy company commander's instincts were sharp.
"Shit, there's a fairy with them."
A man peeked out from behind a rock, muttering to himself.
He had short hair, a thick jaw, and wore the uniform of an Aspen soldier, with a helmet that covered his forehead and ears.
They were well within bow range.
The man only revealed half his body behind the rock.
The fairy commander's sharp eyes caught something behind him.
Floating on the river was one of Aspen's famed fast boats.
A long, narrow vessel that could hold up to eight people.
Its oars were hidden beneath the water, designed to propel it at terrifying speeds when rowed.
It seemed they had an escape route planned in case things went south.
Once they hit the water, there'd be no way to chase them.
'That boat is ridiculously fast.'
It was too sloppy to be an ambush.
There were barely ten of them.
'A provocation.'
Rayon followed the fairy commander's train of thought and reached the same conclusion.
"They're trying everything, huh?"
"Shaking morale is a basic tactic."
As they talked, one of the enemy soldiers stepped out from behind the rock.
"I am Lowell, a soldier of the Aspen Principality. Is there no one here to fight me? Let's have a fair duel!"
It was a trick they had fallen for multiple times.
Not a battle of troops, but a duel challenge.
Not a knight, but a mere soldier picking a fight.
"A commander stepping forward to face a single soldier? Don't you think that's disgraceful? Or is it that none of you actually know how to fight?"
The man named Lowell cackled as he added fuel to the fire.
'Should I just put an arrow through his head?'
The Fairy Company Commander considered it but held back.
At first, they had sent out soldiers and lost.
Then, they sent squad leaders, but they still lost.
The enemy soldier's individual skill was overwhelming.
Yet, having a company commander step in was a blow to their dignity.
It was a strategy that targeted a subtle gap.
'Wasn't there talk of some genius strategist in Aspen?'
The strategy itself didn't significantly reduce their numbers.
However, morale was plummeting.
Why did the enemy have such skilled fighters while their own side had none?
'If I step in…'
Whenever a company commander got involved, the enemy would taunt them.
They didn't lose every single duel.
The 2nd Company Commander, Palto, once smashed an opponent's head in with his mace out of sheer fury.
Yet, even after that, morale still dropped.
"A commander interfering in a soldier's fight? Shame on you!"
Such words fanned the flames of the battlefield.
At first, it hadn't affected them much.
But after continuous losses in both battle and duels, their morale was scraping the bottom.
The difference in individual soldier skill and training was this severe, yet their numbers were similar.
It felt like the outcome was already decided before the battle even began.
That's why they kept using this tactic.
She wanted to kill them, but they were always prepared to flee.
If they ignored the duel challenges and just charged in with their forces?
Had they done so from the start, maybe. But doing it now would further crush morale.
And simply letting it continue?
That would be like opening the gates of purgatory with their own hands.
"What the hell, they've come all the way here?"
Just as the commander was weighing her options, a soldier swaggered in from behind.
No formation, no proper ranks.
It was hard to even call it a unit.
It was Rem from the Independent Platoon.
"Should I just kill that one?"
He asked on a whim.
Hadn't Big Eyes given her some advice before leaving?
'For today, he'll actually listen to orders. So use him as much as you can. The mood's already grim, anyway.'
If it didn't work, no loss.
But if it did, all the better.
"Let's do it."
Rem grinned and nodded enthusiastically.
He seemed to be in a good mood.
"Hey, what was your name again?"
"What? Are you here to fight?"
Rem casually strolled forward, and Ragna followed without much thought—until Audin grabbed his arm.
"Hm?"
"Brother, that's the enemy side."
"Oh, right."
Jaxen was already sitting on a smooth rock, settling in as a spectator.
There was no sense of urgency among them.
The same went for the Fairy Company Commander.
And within their own troops, a subtle anticipation flickered in their eyes.
Because Rem was—
A madman.
A bastard of a comrade, but an absolute menace to the enemy.
The anticipation ignited into heat.
A thick-jawed soldier peeked out from behind a boulder, snickered, and stepped forward.
"So there was no one else to step up, huh? A filthy outsider, no less. You're not going to lure me in and shoot arrows, are you?"
Idiot.
Jaxen thought as he observed the opponent.
They weren't within axe range.
But for that mad barbarian, this distance was more than enough.
Swish.
The moment the enemy peeked out, Rem threw his axe.
His movements were like the wind.
To ordinary soldiers, his hand was a blur, as if he had simply flicked his wrist.
It was so fast that it left an afterimage.
To them, it seemed like phantom wings had sprouted near Rem's right hand.
Swoosh—Whoosh!
The sound of fabric flapping in the wind, followed by something cutting through the air.
The axe spun through the air and embedded itself in Lowell's forehead.
Thunk!
With a crisp impact, his feet left the ground.
He flew.
Even without wings, his body soared briefly before crashing onto his back.
Thud—grrrrrrk.
Pebbles skittered as they were kicked up by his falling body.
"Guhh…"
His head was split open, and he died instantly.
An axe lodged between his brows, his eyes wide open in shock.
A death he never saw coming.
Meanwhile, Rem had already drawn another axe in his left hand and dashed forward.
Tap, tap.
He sprinted, closing the distance, and vanished behind a boulder.
Thud!
A heavy impact followed.
Blood sprayed from the opposite side of the rock.
Crunch!
Without pause, Rem slipped to another boulder.
With another sickening noise, an enemy's severed head rolled onto the ground.
Then—
"Aaagh!"
One of the enemy soldiers bolted for the river.
Rem chased him down, grabbed his head, and slammed it into the ground.
Boom!
"Guhhh…"
A groan, or perhaps a scream.
Rem smashed his face into the dirt again.
And again.
The rhythmic repetition made him look more like a craftsman at work than a warrior.
Except Rem wasn't making boots or farming tools—he was crafting death.
Boom, boom, boom.
After confirming the enemy was dead, he stood up.
With four dead, the remaining enemies turned tail and fled without hesitation.
They ran toward the prepared boats, jumped in, and started rowing frantically.
Rem didn't chase.
His allies didn't bother wasting arrows, either.
"Idiots."
Instead, he made a crude hand gesture.
A universal obscene sign, implying something very rude about their mothers.
The enemies saw it but continued rowing for their lives.
"Let's go."
Rem yanked his axe from a corpse and returned.
The Fairy Company Commander smirked.
Yet, in the end, this did nothing to raise their morale.
An overwhelming show of skill?
That was fine.
But—
'Ugh.'
'I don't want to die like that.'
'Why the face…?'
His killing methods and prior reputation were the problem.
'Wanna have your face ground off?'
The soldiers had heard Rem say this countless times.
Now, seeing him actually do it left them shuddering.
Ironically, Rem's intervention lowered both their own and the enemy's morale.
"Move out."
After hastily collecting the bodies, the company resumed marching.
***
'They're handling it well, right?'
In the rear, Enkrid was busy tending to his injuries.
None were fatal, but they needed treatment to avoid complications.
For now, he couldn't rejoin them.
Additional infantry reinforcements were on the way.
He planned to join them and move forward in a few days.
Two to four days, at most.
'They'll manage.'
He briefly worried about his platoon but let it go.
Right now, he needed to take care of himself.
His men? They weren't the type to die easily.
If anything—
They were the ones who would do the killing.