Chapter 20 - Squad Leader Enkrid
Between the tents stood a torch stand.
The supply tent had oil, of course.
They had been training for days, repeatedly listening to sounds and honing their awareness.
By now, Enkrid could identify everything around him and its location even with his eyes closed.
"Let's take care of this quickly," he murmured.
It was a simple task: locate the patrol soldiers by sound, sneak into the supply tent to grab some oil, and spread it haphazardly around the tents.
The next part was even easier.
He kicked the torch stand, toppling it.
Avoiding watchful eyes, Enkrid crawled stealthily in the shadows, pulling the stand inward until it fell over.
The embers at the tip eagerly embraced the oil, flaring up with a fiery greeting.
"Well, aren't you talented," the company commander commented nonchalantly.
Was that a compliment?
Enkrid took it as such and set the tent ablaze.
Naturally, the flames started where the oil had been spread.
Enkrid dodged the spreading fire, smudging soot on his face and inhaling some smoke.
It was far easier to genuinely react to the situation than to feign it poorly.
"Cough, cough!"
He hacked and carried a freckled soldier who had collapsed to the ripped side of the tent, exiting the same way the company commander had entered.
Looping around the tent, he dropped to the ground near the medical station.
That was enough for now.
"Fire!"
The timing was deliberate, ensuring the flames erupted as the patrol soldiers approached.
The sentry at the neighboring tent, though, was a master of standing asleep and didn't stir.
Enkrid almost suspected the assassin had shot him with a poison dart too.
This didn't require much preparation.
He merely stole oil from a supply tent he already knew well and knocked over the torch stand.
However, both Krang and the company commander, who witnessed it all, seemed rather impressed.
"If you'd joined a band of thieves, you'd probably be their leader by now," Krang had said just before they parted ways.
Enkrid wasn't sure if that was meant as praise.
Running a hand through his hair, his fingers snagged on a curl.
"Guess I should trim my hair too," he thought, lying down without even bothering to wipe the soot off his face.
It wasn't a big fire, and no one had died.
He had even come up with a decent excuse for the sentry's negligence.
"I'll deal with it tomorrow. Tomorrow."
For now, he just wanted to sleep right there and then.
It had been a long night.
A truly exhausting day.
His headache had dulled his thoughts into a hazy fog.
He wanted nothing more than to stop thinking altogether.
"Survivors?"
"There. Though, hmm, looks like he just fainted."
He knew the words were about him but chose to ignore them, closing his eyes.
Fatigue enveloped him.
It wasn't anything particular about the freckled sentry, but Enkrid felt an inexplicable fondness for him.
"He wouldn't know but...." he mused.
Enkrid had spoken with him, learning about his hometown, the girlfriend he left behind, and why he joined the military.
Today, at least for Enkrid, was another day they lived through.
That alone forged a sense of camaraderie.
And none of the fire or ambush was the sentry's fault.
So, Enkrid fabricated an excuse.
The soldier had shouted when the fire broke out and tried to rescue those inside before succumbing to the smoke and fainting.
He was a newly trained recruit, after all, and they hadn't exactly trained him for tent fires.
It was a plausible enough story for everyone to accept without question.
"Did I really do that?"
The soldier, lacking any memory of the event, was understandably confused.
"Looks like the smoke got to your head," the supply company commander remarked casually.
Enkrid had worried someone might suspect him, but no one did.
Perhaps his explanation was too perfectly timed.
The supply commander seemed more relieved that the fire hadn't spread to the supply tent than concerned about anything else.
Since the situation had played out as planned, Enkrid considered it a success.
The next morning brought a new day.
It wasn't a repeat of yesterday.
Although he woke with lingering headaches, Enkrid felt a sense of satisfaction.
At least he had survived 'today' once more.
"You saved me?"
Having washed his face, changed out of his smoke-stained clothes, and trimmed his hair with a dagger, Enkrid met Vengeance.
Vengeance sat atop a supply crate, staring at him.
"I couldn't just let you burn to death before my eyes," Enkrid replied.
Vengeance muttered under his breath before asking, "…Why?"
Did this really require an explanation?
With his pounding headache, Enkrid wasn't in the mood for a lengthy discussion.
"We're comrades."
Vengeance's expression hardened.
A sharp inhale followed.
Noticing this, Enkrid added, "The flower of the battlefield…"
"…is the infantry," Vengeance finished.
It was the infantry unit's creed.
With that, Enkrid turned away, recalling the order to return.
"You are nothing but trouble," Vengeance grumbled faintly behind him.
Normally, such mutterings wouldn't have reached his ears.
'Hearing training.'
Enkrid reflected on the skill he had honed and thought about the fairy company commander deflecting his blade last night.
He also recalled dodging the assassin's thrusts and stabs.
A curious thought emerged.
"Am I still standing in the same place?"
It wasn't a deep concern, just a passing curiosity.
How much had he changed between yesterday and today?
A sudden urge to spar with Rem struck him.
"But first…"
He decided to return to the main camp and rest.
His headache hadn't subsided.
"The weather's beautiful."
Noticing his long shadow stretching to his right, Enkrid looked up.
The sky was a brilliant blue canvas dotted with fluffy white clouds. The breeze was cool, and the sunlight warm.
Today was an exceptionally clear day.
Walking under such a sky felt as if it might chase away his headache.
***
Krais outwardly remained calm, but internally, he let out deep sighs.
Enkrid had been gone for exactly a week.
"What on earth did we do back then?"
Faced with the current situation, Krais's mind sought refuge in past memories.
He thought back to the time when Enkrid wasn't around.
"So, I'm the squad leader here, which means you all have to listen to me. That's why I'm telling you to gather in front of the tent now."
The squad leader, who repeatedly stammered "Well, you see…," had once displayed a commanding presence. He met an untimely death on his first battlefield.
"Follow me!"
It was evident he had bought into some strange rumor.
Something about how, though the squad of troublemakers might be small in number, their skills were exceptional.
Did he genuinely believe such individuals would meekly follow his lead?
He charged ahead alone, only to have his head skewered by a spear.
When his helmet flew back toward them, Rem kicked it away with a casual backward swing.
The next squad leader.
"I hear some of you are quite skilled. Care to prove it? Anyone up for a duel with me?"
This one was reportedly a noble's child.
Rumor had it he was serving in the military as punishment for some crime, though no one knew the details.
He claimed he'd only be here for a few months before returning to his previous life.
The noble was confident, but he had no experience.
"Is it really okay to spar with the squad leader?" Rem asked, scratching his head.
"Hmm, not you. Let's see… you there, the one with the reddish-brown hair."
He picked Jaxen.
Rem, with his rough demeanor, looked like trouble incarnate.
Clearly someone who could fight.
Calling on Krais, however, would've been too much, so the noble must've thought Jaxen seemed manageable.
Of course, it was a grave mistake.
"Me, sir?"
"Yes, you. Come here. Let's spar. Ha! I've never lost before."
"What happens if someone gets hurt during the duel?"
"A man shouldn't fear such things! It'll be water under the bridge."
The arrogant, cocky noble faced his challenge.
"AAAGH!"
And promptly broke his forearm.
"I figured he'd dodge," Jaxen said flatly.
Usually laid-back, Jaxen could turn into a complete maniac on occasion.
The squad's teasing didn't help.
"You should've stepped forward with your left foot back there."
"Ridiculous. Just trip him outright and end it."
"He's gripping his sword too lightly. Hold it tighter, or you'll get hurt."
"Pathetic. Can't even knock someone off their feet? I'd have finished this ages ago. What a bore."
Jaxen's calm demeanor shifted dangerously, and the noble squad leader paid for his arrogance with a broken arm.
The company commander exploded in anger.
"You attacked your superior?"
"He insisted on the duel and promised it'd be water under the bridge."
"Exactly! A man's word is his bond!"
"Though his word changes with every sentence. I beg forgiveness for my sins."
With every remark from the squad, the commander found himself unable to retort.
Facts were facts.
Unsurprisingly, the noble squad leader slunk away with his tail between his legs.
Back in his family's domain, he probably had plenty of well-paid swordsmen willing to lose to him.
But this was the battlefield.
The company commander hadn't intended to drag him into combat anyway—his "squad leader" title was purely ceremonial.
Subsequent squad leaders weren't much better.
One particularly hot-headed leader had a quiet talk with Rem outside the barracks and requested a transfer shortly after.
The others left for similar reasons.
The ones who stayed got along no better than strangers passing on the street.
Krais turned at the sound of a sigh behind him.
"Finally."
He saw the face and muttered with relief, "What's with the state you're in?"
It was Enkrid, massaging his temples as he approached.
Enkrid glanced at the two squaring off in front of the barracks.
"This is what happens when there's no squad leader. I'm the de facto leader, so do as I say. Got it, Ragna?"
"Don't call me by name. Use my family name and add 'sir,' you barbarian."
"Hah, since when did you start pretending to be a noble?"
"I simply find it offensive for an uncivilized beast to address me by name."
"Oh, really? You need a savage beast to knock some sense into you?"
Rem's hands flexed, veins bulging, as if he might split a skull with his axe at any moment.
Ragna, however, stood casually, his arms at his sides.
This was his usual stance.
Jaxen watched with disinterest, while another squadmate quietly prayed for peace.
"Brothers, violence solves nothing," the praying soldier said.
"Step aside, preacher."
"Stand back. Blades don't discriminate," said both Rem and Ragna simultaneously.
"The squad's a disaster," Krais muttered.
It had only been a week, yet chaos reigned.
"Got any spare meds, Krais?" asked Enkrid nonchalantly, ignoring the escalating tension.
"Nope. Busy as I am, you'll have to deal with it," Krais replied before addressing Enkrid.
"Wait a second," Enkrid said, stepping between the two combatants.
Stopping a fight here required more than words.
It required action.
Enkrid moved directly between them.
"What kind of idiot steps into this mess?" Rem muttered, though the tension in his hands dissipated.
With visible annoyance, both Rem and Ragna stepped back, but not without trading parting shots.
"Don't die on the battlefield. I want to kill you myself."
"What's that? Tomorrow? You're dying tomorrow? Can't wait to split your skull."
"Enough," Enkrid muttered, shaking his head.
Why were these two always at each other's throats?
No one knew.
It had always been this way.
"Honestly, so much happened while you were gone," Krais said from behind.
"Clearly," Enkrid replied, observing the disarray.
Krais wasn't kidding when he called the barracks a mess.
Though he had expected it, Enkrid sighed inwardly.
Nothing he hadn't survived before.
A little chaos was nothing compared to what he'd been through.
Missing meal duties.
A punch-up with a neighboring squad.
Ignoring orders to report to the platoon leader.
"Isn't this a bit much, even for just one week?"
Krais continued to chatter.
Enkrid nodded absentmindedly, until something Krais said caught his attention.
"A curse?"
"Yes. They say the entire camp is cursed."
What nonsense is this?
The absurdity of it made even his headache seem trivial.