Chapter 16 - Lack of Skill
The third "today."
Enkrid carried out grip strength training and combat reviews as usual.
He did not waste time.
It was another ordinary day with nothing happening during the day.
At least, on the surface.
"I just didn't notice it."
Today felt different.
Krang skipped breakfast and only returned after lunch.
Even the medic stationed at the infirmary was absent for an unusually long time.
Typically, the soldiers assigned there would never leave their post.
Other than that, everything seemed the same.
The nearby infirmaries had a few patients, which was typical.
Enkrid sat in front of the infirmary, observing the soldiers coming and going.
Being stationed in the rear, the number of combat troops was naturally fewer than at the front lines.
One of the wheels of a supply cart broke, causing the cart to tip over.
From various directions, groans of pain could be heard from injured soldiers.
A harsh wind blew, prompting some soldiers to grumble complaints.
Considering everything, the security was not particularly tight.
"Still, it's not lax enough to let a few assassins slip through."
His objective remained unchanged.
Cause a commotion while confronting the assassins—simple enough.
Enkrid steadied his resolve.
The rest of the day passed just like any other.
"Don't you get bored of this?"
Krang's routine question.
"When we get back..., just wait, you bastards," muttered Vengeance aimlessly.
Night fell deeply.
Lying in bed, Enkrid got up and sat on the edge, his legs dangling.
He reviewed the information he knew.
The assassins' expected time of arrival:
"After the third watch change."
Their weapons: poisoned needles and blades.
Their appearance: resembling women or children in physique.
The most suspicious person: the newly appointed company commander.
Their target: likely Krang.
That was all he knew.
It was enough.
They weren't after him, and all he needed to do was cause a ruckus.
Watching the guards change shifts, Enkrid got up from his bed.
"Yawn—headed to take a leak?"
One of the guards asked, yawning.
"No, just couldn't sleep," Enkrid replied.
"Tomorrow, you're heading back to the main unit, right?"
The guard smiled faintly.
He had freckles, droopy eyes, and a gentle expression.
Enkrid, as a squad leader, outranked the average soldier.
"Yeah."
"Nervous about it?"
"No, just the moon's too bright," Enkrid said.
The freckled soldier tilted his head up.
It was a pitch-black night.
Thick clouds completely obscured the moonlight.
The stars twinkled faintly, but the darkness was so deep one couldn't see a step ahead without a torch.
"The moon?"
"Just kidding."
Enkrid glanced at the nearby tent where another watchman stood guard.
Even with strict discipline, such soldiers inevitably existed.
Leaning against the tent pole, the guard nodded off.
"Haha."
The freckled soldier chuckled dryly.
"Actually, it's the torches. Too bright for me to sleep."
"You're sensitive," the soldier replied.
"I've been like this since I was a kid."
It wasn't an empty remark.
Enkrid was more sensitive than most people.
He could hear better, smell better, and distinguish flavors more sharply.
His senses were sharp.
"And yet, I've already been caught off guard twice."
The opponent was exceptionally skilled at stealth.
Well, what kind of assassin wouldn't excel in stealth and infiltration?
It was dark.
Staring at the starry sky and the torchlight on the posts, Enkrid exchanged a few meaningless words.
He asked about the soldier's hometown, how he ended up in the army—trivial things.
The freckled soldier shared freely, without reservations.
Enkrid didn't listen closely.
While conversing, his attention remained on the back.
And he kept touching his neck.
"The poison worked instantly because it struck my neck."
If it had hit his arm instead, he might have had time to react.
Preparation was key.
As long as he stayed awake, he could at least scream for help.
"Laura's waiting for me back home—"
The freckled soldier was mid-sentence, talking about his girlfriend.
Suddenly, thwack!
Something pierced the soldier's throat.
"A blade!"
A finger-length blade protruded from the front of his neck.
Blood didn't gush out.
Until that blade was removed, it served as a stopper for the bleeding.
The soldier staggered, his mouth muffled as he collapsed silently.
Ping!
Something shot toward Enkrid.
All this happened in a single breath.
Enkrid reacted instinctively, raising his hand to cover his neck.
A sharp prick followed as a poisoned needle lodged in his hand.
It was time to shout.
There's an assassin here!
Attack!
Or even just a simple:
Aaaaah!
But—
Something clamped over his mouth.
No sound.
No warning.
Enkrid felt someone grab his neck and twist.
Crack.
Then, a searing pain in the back of his neck as a blade slid deep.
Having been stabbed so many times, he could now estimate the depth and severity of the wound as if by instinct.
This one would kill him shortly.
Enkrid collapsed, blood pouring from his neck, soaking his chest.
The assassin didn't deliver a final blow.
Enkrid lacked the strength to confirm their situation.
'Krang? What about Vengeance?'
Bleeding out, Enkrid saw two bodies before him.
One was the freckled soldier.
His throat was pierced, and blood pooled on the tent floor.
"What was his name again?"
They'd talked so much, yet Enkrid hadn't paid attention.
Inside the tent, Vengeance also lay sprawled, his eyes wide open.
His neck seemed strangled.
But Krang was nowhere in sight.
Summoning his last ounce of strength, Enkrid raised his head to peer deeper into the tent.
The movement caused the blade in his neck to shift, sending waves of agony.
"Grrrk."
A groan escaped involuntarily, but he persisted, lifting himself.
He saw her—a slender woman.
Through the torn tent, a fairy-like woman blocked the way.
'It's you, isn't it?'
The newly appointed company commander.
No matter how oblivious, this was unmistakable.
"You already—"
Another voice mixed in.
That was the last thing he remembered.
***
"Cypress!Cypress!"
And just like that, today began again.
"Damn it."
A hollow laugh escaped his lips.
The opponent was an assassin.
What good were things like the Heart of the Beast or Valah techniques?
There was nothing he could do.
He had to face them to even attempt anything.
But without a word, they went straight for the neck and launched poisoned needles.
Kicking off his blanket, he stood.
"You've gone crazy first thing in the morning?"
Vengeance, half-covered by the flying blanket, asked.
"No, sir."
That wasn't the point.
"Fine, you'll die for this. Mutiny, right?"
Ignoring Vengeance, who was struggling to rise, Enkrid stepped outside.
"Hey! Running away? You'll die if you get caught!"
Vengeance's shouts followed him.
"What's with all the noise this early?"
Krang's voice joined in as he woke up.
Once again, the same day repeated itself.
"Come on, then, assassin."
***
Enkrid prepared for the fourth night.
This time, he brought a few daggers as well.
He also convinced the freckled soldier to come into the tent with him.
"Everyone you need to protect is right here, aren't they?"
It wasn't hard to persuade him.
This honest rural youth was easily swayed by Enkrid's words.
He brought a torch stand inside and set it up.
The inside of the tent lit up brightly.
'Alright, assassins. Let's see if you can operate in such a well-lit place.'
It turned out they could.
He didn't even notice when they sneaked in.
Nor how they approached so close.
An assassin suddenly dropped from above with a thud.
The shadow that fell landed needles tipped with poison in both the freckled soldier's and Enkrid's necks.
Right before he died, Enkrid saw the tent being sliced open with a clean swipe.
A white blade.
A dark silhouette beyond it.
The light from the torch inside illuminated the face of the figure.
It was the newly appointed company commander.
***
"Cypress!Cypress!"
The fifth repetition of today dawned.
"Alright."
He had seen it coming, and yet he fell for it.
Again.
This was the fourth time.
It was beginning to irk him.
He decided to try the same strategy again, but this time, he would focus all his nerves.
The result was not much different.
The bed in the tent was elevated slightly from the ground.
From beneath it, a dark shadow emerged and hurled a short dart. It was a throwing dart, a type of hidden weapon.
The dart tip was coated in poison.
A deadly venom.
The pain that followed was on a completely different level than being stabbed by a knife.
It felt like ants were gnawing on his heart.
His breathing came to an abrupt halt, cutting off his air.
Thus, he could do nothing before dying.
The sixth repetition of today was much the same.
Occasionally, there were minor changes.
Right before his death, he heard the assassins muttering something.
"You, ho…"
"You're…"
"This is wa…"
"Fair…"
Of course, hearing that didn't change anything.
There was no way to make sense of it.
At best, he caught a few words here and there.
Even when he tried to piece it together, it didn't make any sense.
Frustrated, Enkrid tried all sorts of different approaches.
Stubbornness can be a virtue, but in situations like this, it could also be a disadvantage.
The age-old truth remained: if you're not smart, your body suffers.
Relentless effort isn't always the solution.
Thankfully, Enkrid wasn't an idiot.
After twenty failures.
'Even shouting is pointless.'
The assassins' skills were simply that exceptional.
Once, he tried shouting an alert before they even made a move.
The soldiers from nearby tents rushed to his tent.
He even saw Krang rubbing his eyes as he got up.
This was roughly after the third watch had begun, so his preemptive strike could be considered well-timed.
"An attack? Where?"
In the end, all he got was a kick to the shin from the neighboring squad leader.
If you yell first, nothing happens?
Would that mean he'd just get through today unscathed?
If that were the case, a kick to the shin was a small price to pay.
After the commotion subsided and Enkrid excused himself by claiming it was just a strange dream.
"How did you know?"
For the first time, Enkrid heard the assassin's voice.
It was a man's voice mixed with a metallic rasp.
And then he died.
A blade plunged into his neck.
There had been attempts like this and others.
"Platoon leader Vengeance, are you angry because of me, by any chance?"
"What the hell?"
"It's not me, it's Krang, isn't it? You're upset because Krang keeps talking nonsense, aren't you?"
Enkrid tried light banter to distract and warn them.
"An assassin will come tonight."
"...You've lost your mind, you lunatic."
Vengeance didn't believe him.
"Are you secretly from the royal bloodline? Why would assassins target you?"
Krang didn't believe him either.
They were faithless people.
It was a failure.
No matter the variation in attempts, the root cause of failure was the same.
'Lack of skill.'
It all boiled down to that single reason.
The assassins' skills were simply too superior.
He needed a solution.
Neither the Heart of the Beast nor Valah mercenary swordsmanship was of help now.
'Should I bring Rem in during the night?'
That might be a solution.
If it were Rem or other squad members, they wouldn't fall so easily.
'As long as it's not Big Eyes.'
They wouldn't fall.
But how could he bring them here?
He had no means to do so.
He was merely a squad leader, and they were regular soldiers.
Regardless of skill, their ranks were set.
Could he ask the lieutenant in charge of the medic squad?
'As if they'd agree.'
What excuse could he use?
Some things were possible, and some weren't.
Bringing his squad members was out of the question.
Was there another way?
There was.
The repetition of today.
Enkrid knew the time and place when he could meet Big Eyes.
'Should I ask for advice?'
All his squad members were terrifyingly skilled.
'Even if I can't bring them along.'
He could at least hear their opinions.
That would be better than enduring this out of sheer stubbornness.
Enkrid got up to seek Big Eyes.
"Where are you going?"
Platoon Leader Vengeance called out from behind him.
Krang was also absent from the morning lineup, so perhaps that's why he asked.
Enkrid tilted his head at the question and answered with a question of his own.
"Are you lonely?"
"What the hell?"
"Never mind, then."
"You, you son of a…"
Ignoring him, Enkrid walked out.
"Just you wait until I'm better!"
Vengeance yelled from inside the tent, but Enkrid just rubbed his ears.
Finding Big Eyes wasn't difficult.
His expression was sour as always, but what did that matter?
This was the twenty-first repetition of today.
"Big Eyes."
Big Eyes, who had been walking briskly, turned his head at the call.
He frowned, then recognized Enkrid.
"Squad Leader? You're looking better now."
"Can we talk for a moment?"
"I'm a bit busy. If you need someone to talk to, Jaxen is over there."
Big Eyes seemed genuinely busy, gesturing with his thumb before hurrying off.
There wasn't even a chance to stop him.
Not that Big Eyes was the goal—he'd planned to have someone else from the squad call him instead.
Enkrid followed Big Eyes' gesture to the indicated tent.
It wasn't one of the large ones but a smaller tent.
It was a maintenance tent for broken supplies, not often visited by people.
There, nestled among the repair tents, was a small one.
It looked like it could fit two people at most.
"Squad Leader?"
Jaxen was inside.
Reddish-brown hair and brown eyes tinged with red.
A squad member with an unassuming smile.
And according to Rem's evaluation…
The guy most likely to have a filthy backstory.
One who enjoyed exploiting openings to strike, a total pervert.
Enkrid scratched his head with a finger and asked.
It seemed he might've come at an awkward time.
"Do you have a moment?"
Jaxen casually nodded.
Behind him, a woman with curly blonde hair briefly peeked out of the tent before disappearing.
"Just finished my business."
Jaxen stood up, loosely draping a shirt over his shoulders, its buttons undone.