Purpose, some objective, or goal, does it exist?
Beep.
A hawk that was roaming the green plains flew overhead.
The hawkâs cry brushed past between them.
It was a not-so-cold winter day. By the fence within the camp, Encrid responded to the proposal with a question.
Torres hesitated. He thought it over and then spoke.
âThe soldier grading system is crap, but it does set one clear standard. What is an elite soldier?â
His voice was quiet, low, and deep. It seemed to match well with a bass hymn.
His usual thoughts were aligned with the question. Torresâ words were mixed with sincerity and conviction.
âIt means reaching the limits of human capability. They say you cut down on sleep and swing your sword until your hands are calloused even on the battlefield, right?â
As Torres spoke, he grabbed Encridâs hand. Encrid willingly let his hand be held by him.
Turning over Encridâs palm, Torres spoke.
âLook.â
The palm was hard with several calluses that had burst. The evidence of effort, countless days of swinging a sword, was left on his hand.
âThere are many who put in this much effort. But those with talent to back it up are rare. Truly rare.â
Torres spoke while slightly shaking his head. He was right. Knowing too well that he had crawled and crawled because he lacked talent.
âA unit of soldiers who have combined effort and talent, reaching the limits of human capability! Thatâs the Border Guard. Want to improve your skills? Join our unit. It will fill the gap in you.â
He asked about his purpose but was told it would fill his gap.
Encrid got his answer from that.
Seeing his eyes full of passion, desire, and conviction, Encrid spoke.
âIâm sorry.â
It was a refusal.
It could have been an exceptionally good opportunity.
A path to the dream that, though torn, he hadnât forgottenâno, couldnât forgetâan exceptionally good opportunity.
But Encrid couldnât go.
The Border Guard could be a stairway to higher places, but the end of those stairs couldnât be the world he wanted.
âStopping at the limit is out of the question.â
Reaching the limit is not enough.
The Border Guard, the unit stationed at the border, is the most exceptional killing force.
But didnât the member of the Border Guard, whoâs glaring at him now, just say it himself?
The Border Guard is composed of those who have reached the limits of human capability.
Encridâs dream was higher than that.
Of course, for someone who hasnât reached the limit to think they can surpass it is mere arrogance.
But you canât set off expecting to stop halfway before reaching your destination.
Encrid shook his head.
âYou know the characteristics of our unit, right?â
They turn ordinary soldiers into excellent killing machines in a short time.
He knows. There is no half-hearted training. It is a group that trains soldiers to a much higher standard than ordinary soldiers.
Itâs just the method thatâs the problem.
In fact, the question implied in Encridâs question was simple.
Are there any who became knights after being in the Border Guard?
No.
They learn and master the most convenient and efficient ways to kill.
Itâs not for nothing they have the nickname âThe Slaughterers of the Frontier.â
If you compare it to swordsmanship, itâs swordsmanship that prioritizes tricks and irregular methods over basics.
You canât become a knight with just tricks and irregular methods.
Knowing that, it was a path he couldnât take.
âYouâre an idiot.â
But to others, it might look like this.
Torres relaxed his gaze.
âI hear that a lot.â
âHa, never thought Iâd get rejected by a man instead of a woman. Can I ask why?â
Should he tell? Would he be ridiculed again?
Whenever he talked about his dream, it seemed like all he heard was ridicule.
Oh, maybe not.
âKrang was serious.â
None of the others were like that. Rem was excited to find an excuse to tease him.
The rest didnât seem to have such a positive reaction either.
Some instructors, in particular, showed what it meant to look at someone like they were crazy.
âI want to go higher than the Border Guard.â
Even so, Encrid spoke frankly. He had nothing to hide.
âHigher?â
âI want the Red Cape.â
It didnât have to be the Red Cape specifically, but it was an appropriate metaphor.
Naurillia had only one order of knights.
They were the Kingâs guard, wearing capes as red as blood, the symbol of Naurilliaâs military might.
They were also the only unit permitted to bear the Kingâs emblem.
On their capes was clearly emblazoned the symbol of three crossed swords, the kingdomâs emblem.
Three crossed swords and the mythic beast, the sun lion with a round head and fiery mane.
These two were the symbols of Naurillia.
It meant he wanted to become a knight. Torres understood well enough.
So he was taken aback.
ââŠThatâs a bit much.â
Torres assessed Encridâs skill. He was exceptional.
For someone who discovered their talent at thirty, he was exceptional.
But that was it.
In fact, his skill was borderline for even being accepted into the Border Guard.
Maybe if it were one of Encridâs squad members they met earlier in the barracks.
âThey wouldnât make it.â
That side is impossible for another reason.
They all have too many issues. No matter how much trouble they cause, they must listen to be considered soldiers.
In that aspect, they were below standard.
If the blade I wield can also harm me, it canât be called a good weapon.
Such a thing should be discarded.
âAre you serious?â
âOf course.â
Rejected cleanly. Torres nodded. He didnât want to discourage the otherâs aspirations.
But there was one thing he had to say.
âYou will regret it.â
âMaybe.â
Encrid replied sincerely.
Not every choice is always the right one, so he might regret it.
Torres, the platoon leader of the Border Guard, turned away without saluting.
He might have looked sulky, but his shoulders seemed lighter.
Watching Torres walk away, Encrid turned around.
As he walked back to the barracks, he recalled his conversation with Ragna.
âAre you talking about the Red Cape Knights? Are you curious about how they move like that?â
The impact of seeing the Red Cape Knights was not small.
What is a Knight?
How can they move like that?
It would be a lie to say he wasnât curious.
Moreover, the squires were only semi-knights.
âItâs a bit early for you to know.â
Ragna had said, and Encrid silently waited for his next words. As expected, Ragna continued.
âKnights donât just deal with physical strength. Their bodies contain a very special power. Handling that power is not something to discuss now. Knowing about it would only hinder you.â
âJust point me in the right direction. I want to know if Iâm on the wrong path or not.â
It might be an unreasonable request. But as Encridâs skills grew, he increasingly realized that his squad members were anything but ordinary.
Among them, he learned the basics of swordsmanship from Ragna and noticed something.
If there was someone in the squad closest to being a knight, it was Ragna.
âBasic skills are a simple and brute display of technique. Youâll know if you fight, but would you improve faster by building on the mercenary swordsmanship the Squad Leader learned? Or by honing basic skills?â
Why are shortcuts called shortcuts?
Why are irregular methods irregular?
If it was just about fighting well, Valenâs Mercenary Swordsmanship was several times better than learning the basics of heavy swordsmanship.
âFor further advancement, itâs the right path. You must walk the proper path. I think that answers your question.â
It was an overwhelming answer.
Advancing through fundamental swordsmanship.
Overcoming countless obstacles in front and walking the right path through it.
That was the task at hand.
Encrid came to that conclusion.
âGrowl.â
As he entered the barracks, this time he was greeted by the sound of a beast. The barracks were a mess.
Beds pushed to one side, a table turned over, and in the middle, Big Eyes had a scratched face and looked distressed.
âOh, why the face?â
âYou are quick.â
âLeopard meat isnât tasty, but meat is meat.â
Behind Big Eyes, Ragna and Rem each added a comment.
The beast was a black panther. A young panther with blue eyes, like the one they fought alongside before.
It had suddenly disappeared, and Encrid thought he would never see it again.
Somehow it had made its way here.
The panther bristled and glared at Ragna and Rem, but when Encrid entered, it turned and jumped into his arms.
Rem, with a thumb scratching his head while holding an axe, asked,
âIf I had been a bit later, that axe might have cut the pantherâs neck.â
âWas that the squad leaderâs pet?â
âHmm, is that so?â
Ragna, who was endlessly serious and heavy when talking about knights, returned to his usual lazy self.
He put away the sword he had held in its scabbard and lay down on the bed that was pushed to one side.
Seeing this, Rem also lowered his axe.
âWas it yours, Squad Leader? That thing is quite fierce.â
Big Eyes asked, cautiously eyeing the panther.
âYou got scratched?â
âI tried to pet its head.â
Big Eyes, gauging his wound with his hand, spoke while Rem snickered beside him.
âHe tried to check if it was a male or female and got his hand bitten.â
âKaak!â
The intelligent panther seemed to understand, extending its head and baring its fangs.
Seeing this, Big Eyes jumped back in fright, only to slip on a discarded leather canteen and fall.
With a thud, he landed on his butt, making Rem burst out laughing.
âYou alright? Howâs your face?â
Encrid asked with a chuckle.
Big Eyes was always boasting that his face was a blessing from the Kingdom of Naurillia.
âIâm fine. I need some holy healing or medicine to prevent a scar.â
Holy healing for a scratch like that? Only someone with an abundance of Krona would think of that.
âUh, sure.â
Encrid responded dismissively and looked at the panther in his arms.
The creature, which had been baring its fangs, was now quietly looking up at him.
It didnât seem light or small, but holding it made it feel light and small.
âDid you come to play?â
Encrid asked. The panther understood.
It blinked and let out a small purr, rubbing its head against Encridâs chest.
Its fur, smoother than silk, felt quite nice.
Seeing Encrid petting the panther, Rem spoke.
âAre you going to keep it? You wonât be bored, thatâs for sure.â
Rem was surprisingly tolerant of animals. Ragna and Jaxon showed no interest.
Audin, the religious squad member who had returned from his duty, also had no interest.
Big Eyes and Krais were the only ones still keenly interested.
âItâs a female.â
âHuh?â
âDo you think it would have ended with just my face scratched?â
Big Eyes crossed his arms and spoke triumphantly.
Really? Impressive.
âSure.â
Encrid replied and started tidying up the area. Rem set up the overturned table, sat on it, and asked,
âNow that youâre a high-ranking soldier, it seems like everyone is after you. How do you feel about it? The Border Guard doesnât seem like a bad option.â
Encrid sometimes wanted to look inside this sly manâs mind.
Though he seemed to joke around all day, he would hit the nail on the head like this.
âIâm not going.â
Encrid stated his conclusion first.
He didnât want this to become a noisy issue.
âWhy?â
It was Jaxon. His speech was short.
âSir.â
He added a respectful term belatedly.
âJust because.â
Was there really a need to explain in detail? He was about to leave it at that, but Rem interrupted.
âAre you serious? Even if the soldier grading system is idiotic, from the upper ranks onwards, itâs quite decent. And youâre rejecting a direct unit of the kingdom?â
âHe must have a good reason.â
Ragna, perhaps having inferred the situation from their previous conversation, interjected, which made things worse.
ââŠDamn it, is that guy pretending to know something? He seems to know something, doesnât he?â
âWhy?â
Jaxon asked again.
This time, the respectful term didnât follow.
His gaze was quite insolent.
âLord, grant wisdom to these ignorant ones.â
Audin fanned the flames, and the atmosphere heated up.
It was a situation that couldnât be ignored.
If left alone, it would lead to meaningless violence. Encrid knew this kind of situation all too well from his past experiences.
The temperamental squad members always sought solutions through force.
âThe Border Guard ends once you reach the limits of human capability. Itâs a unit for that purpose.â
âAnd thatâs a problem?â
Realizing that this was a problem was not something to be heartbroken about.
When talking with Ragna about the path to becoming a knight, Ragna had added this at the end:
âIf you are a natural talent, a prodigy blessed by the heavens, then you donât really need to learn and internalize the basics. It will happen on its own.â
Being a knight is a game for geniuses.
Among those born with martial talent, only a select few are chosen.
They seek out the geniuses among the talented.
Only such individuals can become knights.
So, should one not even dream of it?
Is it something that shouldnât even be desired?
Even if itâs been torn apart and left without a trace.
If it hasnât been abandoned, that dream still resides in the heart.
Thatâs why Encrid dreamt.
âIt is a problem. My goal is higher.â
Everyone stared at him blankly. Encrid opened his mouth.
Very plainly and casually.
In the same tone and voice as if he were saying lamb stew would be served for breakfast tomorrow.
âIâm going to become a Knight.â
In the past, this statement had been met with ridicule.
In fact, Encridâs dream had always been a subject of mockery.
So this reaction felt unfamiliar.
âYouâll have to overcome several obstacles, but if you want to do it, then do it.â
Rem spoke first.
Ragna showed the occasional fiery look in his eyes.
Jaxon responded with, âIs that so?â
Big Eyes gaped and exclaimed, âWow.â unable to close his mouth.
Audin clasped his hands in prayer.
âEven if dreams and hopes seem futile and invisible, grant your grace upon the effort to hold onto them without giving up.â
There was no need to be moved by the prayer.
Even if they had ridiculed him, nothing would have changed.
Encrid was that kind of person.
What mattered more than othersâ ridicule or disdain was the dream he held.
High-ranking soldier.
A recognized rank in the soldier grading system.
In fact, this was just the beginning.
Building his skills and making a name for himself to become a knight.
Growl.
The panther purred and nudged Encridâs cheek.
It felt like encouragement.
âSmart one.â
Rem laughed heartily at the sight.
Even though it didnât matter, Encridâs heart tingled.
It was the first time he received encouragement instead of ridicule.
âThere are a lot of things that are new to me these days.â
No matter what anyone said, it was a joyful moment.
* * *
Encrid spent the next two days training as usual.
On the third day, he went on market patrol duty.
Thump.
Then he was stabbed in the stomach with a dagger. It was a fatal wound. It felt like a hot iron skewer was tearing his guts apart.
âDamn it.â
Encrid laughed in disbelief, blood dripping from his mouth.
It was a completely unexpected blow.
Screams!
In the middle of the market, a passing waitressâs scream echoed. The dying Encrid closed his eyes, the scream the last thing he heard.
[T/L: Please support me here: /revengerscans ]