Chapter 56 - A Wall is a Wall
"Think of it as stretching your muscles, Brother," Audin said.
Audin's barehanded training method was all about isolating and stretching each muscle in the body.
"Ugh..."
A groan involuntarily escaped Enkrid's lips as the muscles at the back of his thighs felt like they were about to snap.
To make matters worse, Audin climbed onto Enkrid's bent back, adding more pressure.
In a seated position, Enkrid stretched his hands down to his toes and muttered, "Just die."
"Is that a treath?"
"I'm saying I'm going to die."
His voice was barely above a whisper, as though the strain on his body would genuinely tear his muscles apart.
Just as he felt he might pass out, Audin finally got off his back.
"This is just the basics," Audin repeated multiple times.
He bent one leg inward, pressed against his hip muscles, and used a nearby column to twist his body as he leaned halfway down.
He twisted, stretched, and wrung his body.
Yes, wrung was the perfect word.
Like wringing out laundry, every movement squeezed his body. Afterward, sweat drenched him completely.
Wasn't this some form of torture?
If this was just the basics, would the advanced training involve dismantling a person entirely?
Such thoughts briefly crossed his mind, but the results were undeniable.
The exercises Audin taught were incredibly effective.
Though painful during the process, his body felt significantly lighter afterward.
Not just lighter—his entire body felt energized.
His heart pounded, circulating warmth throughout him.
Even the cold became bearable.
"Eat well, rest well, and move well. That's how you endure the cold, Brother squad leader," Audin said with a smile.
Enkrid nodded.
Physical training was just another part of his daily life.
And enduring physical strain sharpened his mind.
A clearer mind brought focus, leading him back to the thought of the assassin who had come to kill him in the repeated day.
'That technique…'
He hadn't even seen how the throwing knife was launched.
Enkrid considered himself skilled at throwing knives, but...
'Not even close.'
The assassin's skill was exceptional.
But it was still manageable.
Their first pattern involved approaching and stabbing.
If that failed, they threw knives.
'For a wall, it's thin and low,' he thought.
The ferryman of the Black River often said that walls will keep appearing in Enkrid's path.
'If it's this much...'
It seemed easy.
That confidence was why he could take his time.
"Look at this! Difficult? This?"
Suddenly, Rem leapt off his bed and perfectly replicated one of Enkrid's movements.
With smooth, unhindered motions, his body extended effortlessly.
His flexibility was remarkable.
"Learn some flexibility, will you?"
That bastard was insufferable, as usual.
"This is hard for you? Really?"
Rem kept mocking him, but Enkrid chose to ignore him entirely.
Half-lidded, he observed Rem's antics when Ragna, who had been silently watching, finally moved.
Ragna was also a natural when it came to using his body.
Mastering swordsmanship beyond a certain level required a complete understanding of one's body, and Ragna demonstrated that mastery perfectly.
He deliberately performed the same movements Enkrid struggled with, adding a touch of arrogance to his flawless execution.
"Have you developed a hobby of twisting your body?"
Jaxen, who had just returned from outside, entered and commented.
From his perspective, this was a den of madmen.
Enkrid, drenched in sweat, caught his breath.
In front of him, a mad savage was bending over and touching their toes with a grinning face, while a slacker sat casually with their legs split open.
Had they all lost their minds together?
"We're learning exercises to endure the cold, Brother," Audin explained.
Jaxen showed no interest, sidestepping them to reach his spot.
As it was time for Enkrid's shift, he stood up and asked a question purely out of curiosity.
The dagger the assassin used had an unusual design.
"Have you ever used a throwing dagger shaped like this?"
"What's that?"
"Nope."
"Never, Brother."
As he described the dagger without a handle, meant for throwing, Rem, Ragna, and Audin voiced their ignorance.
Naturally, Big Eyes said nothing, while Jaxen frowned slightly.
"Where did you see that? The dagger?"
Jaxen asked, still standing.
He hadn't even taken off his coat yet.
"I didn't see it exactly," Enkrid replied.
He was about to see it again soon.
"Did it have a round groove near the hilt?" Jaxen inquired further, coat still in hand.
"Yeah."
He didn't have to think hard; the image was vivid in his mind after being struck by the blade in the repeated day.
A round groove at the end—it had been there.
"Why do you ask?" Rem questioned as he crawled back into bed.
"Just something I heard about," Jaxen said, turning away.
At that moment, a black panther with striking blue eyes emerged from Enkrid's bed.
The creature had spent the night curled up beside him, finally waking.
It was a creature that seemed to adore both beds and sleep.
Still shivering from the cold, it stretched out its body from head to tail.
Enkrid ran his hand along its back, from its head to the tip of its tail, when Jaxen spoke up.
"Avoid it if possible. That's called a Whistle Blade."
"A Whistle Blade?"
The name was unfamiliar.
"It's nicknamed for the sound it makes when thrown. Assassins favor it. Hard to wield, but if you meet someone skilled with it... well, run."
Jaxen's tone, as always, was cold but considerate.
The problem was the content.
Run?
It's just a dagger, after all.
The panther let out a pleased purring sound as Enkrid scratched it.
When Big Eyes tried to pet it, the panther immediately bared its fangs in a vicious snarl.
"Fine, fine! I get it," Big Eyes said, backing off.
Any closer, and the panther would have bitten him for sure.
Initially, Enkrid had worried the panther might harm his squad, but those fears quickly dissipated.
No matter how agile the panther was, it couldn't possibly handle someone like Rem or the others.
Big Eyes just needed to be cautious, though the panther seemed unusually intelligent.
After spending a few days with it, there were no issues.
Enkrid gently stroked its head and said, "Don't hate him too much. I'll be back after my shift."
Enkrid rose from his seat.
"Continue your unarmed training exercises. They'll be helpful, brother."
He didn't specify what they would help with, but it wasn't hard to figure out.
What was Enkrid always immersed in?
The sword.
It was clear he meant it would benefit swordsmanship.
"Not wrong," Rem nodded.
Ragna and Jaxen also followed with subtle nods.
When it came to Enkrid, their reactions were always earnest.
It was a curious thing.
They usually didn't care about much else.
Enkrid stepped out of the barracks for his duties.
He thought it would be the same routine as usual and relatively easy, but Jaxen's words complicated his thoughts.
'Evade? Run away?'
With his current abilities?
Even if he fought head-on?
He should've asked more questions.
No, he would find out soon enough by trying.
The cost would be his life and the day itself.
But there would be gains as well.
It wouldn't be a waste.
Even after facing death countless times, Enkrid never let any day pass meaninglessly.
Even on days sacrificed out of necessity.
In such situations, he always aimed to gain something, no matter how small.
This repeated resolve had shaped an instinct within him.
That instinct whispered now.
That strange-looking half-blood fairy assassin would not be an easy opponent.
"Ah, High-ranked Soldier, the Spell breaker!"
Jack always brought a lightheartedness to the atmosphere, making the mood more relaxed.
If he hadn't known better, it might've worked.
But knowing the intention behind it, it was clear.
It was a calculated move.
Excessive flattery to inflate egos and disarm vigilance.
'When I see it this way, he's rather meticulous.'
An assassin targeting an ordinary soldier like this?
Was he a perfectionist?
As thoughts of the half-blood fairy's face swirled in his mind, trying to gauge his personality, Enkrid arrived at the market.
"Wow, it's disgustingly crowded," Jack quipped as he approached from one side, closing the distance.
"Yeah, it is," Enkrid replied, spotting a ragged figure moving toward them from the front.
Suddenly, Enkrid spread his arms wide.
Thud!
Once again, Jack took the blow, while Bo dodged.
Enkrid deftly twisted his body aside.
His muscles were stiff from the cold, but Audin's exercises had helped.
He wasn't as rigid as he was on his "first day."
Without even drawing his sword, Enkrid grabbed Bo by the collar.
Bo reflexively threw a punch.
With the boldness granted by the Heart of the Beast, Enkrid predicted its trajectory by following it to the end and tilted his head to dodge.
Tick.
The fist grazed his earlobe.
Then it was Enkrid's turn.
Strengthening his grip on Bo's collar, he twisted, choking off his breath.
"Urk!"
Bo groaned.
Hup.
Enkrid inhaled sharply, spinning Bo to use him as a human shield.
Despite his light frame, the weight of an armed adult man bore down on his arms.
He lifted and twisted his waist, utilizing centrifugal force to swing Bo.
As he pulled Bo halfway around, Enkrid's eyes caught the half-blood fairy throwing off his rags.
The moment their gazes locked, the fairy seemed to smirk.
Why in this situation?
Enkrid had just secured a human shield, after all.
The fairy should've been alarmed.
The target had anticipated and reacted to the assassin's setup.
Yet, the half-blood fairy remained composed.
Smirking, he merely waved his hand.
The instant his dangling hand reached his chest, it happened.
A flash of light.
Lightning.
A dagger flew with speed invisible to the naked eye.
The assassin's hand had barely touched his chest before the blade launched forward.
Before Enkrid could even position Bo as a shield, the dagger struck near his heart.
Fweeeet!
The delayed sound of the whistle pierced his ears.
A thud followed by intense pain conveyed what had just transpired.
The assassin had thrown a dagger, and it had pierced his heart.
"So, that's how it is."
His instincts had been right.
The enemy wasn't ordinary.
Just the skill in throwing that dagger was enough to say so.
But what if he prevented the enemy from throwing more daggers?
Even with a dagger lodged in his body, the only thing bystanders perceived was two soldiers fighting.
"Let go of me!"
Bo shouted, kicking Enkrid in the stomach.
The grip on his collar loosened.
Enkrid had taken a hit to the abdomen and released Bo.
A dagger lodged in his heart—it was strange he could still move.
Blood welled up and spilled from his mouth.
As he fell to one knee, barely holding himself upright, the half-blood fairy approached.
"You expected this, didn't you? Was their acting that bad?"
Even as screams erupted around them, the half-blood fairy paid no mind.
To him, the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of them.
"…Why?"
Enkrid asked, saving his last breath.
Despite the chaos, the assassin heard him clearly.
"Why ask? Because I'm curious. It seemed like you knew and reacted accordingly."
Enkrid nodded faintly, gathering his last strength.
"The acting was awful. Even a stray dog would've laughed."
The fairy nodded and flicked his hands sideways.
Thunk.
Two daggers flew at close range.
Enkrid caught sight of their blades embedded in Jack and Bo's foreheads.
Two grooves, whistling blades—whistle daggers.
"Wha…"
"They…what…"
Neither could finish their sentences as they collapsed backward.
The half-blood fairy stopped there, sparing any further action.
Enkrid knew Rotten was nearby.
But Rotten didn't rush in during such situations.
He was probably hiding somewhere.
The half-blood fairy didn't bother with Rotten—for now.
Perhaps he'd chase him down once this was over.
Either way, it didn't concern Enkrid anymore.
"The persistent lover never lets prey escape."
At those words, Enkrid nodded.
"True."
"Aren't you surprised?"
"Should I be?"
"Well, most would be."
Sorry, but this is my third time already.
Instead of showing surprise, Enkrid grabbed the dagger stuck in his chest and pulled it out.
Schlick.
As the blade left his heart, a wave of excruciating pain followed.
Blood gushed out from the gaping wound.
Enkrid's vision quickly blurred, and the assassin remarked, "You're an interesting one."
Is that so?
'I'll make things even more interesting.'
As he closed his eyes, Enkrid thought to himself.
With darkness came the sight of the ferryman.
"Keekeke."
The ferryman cackled without saying much, seemingly amused. His features—his eyes, nose, and mouth—were indiscernible, as was his form, but the sense he conveyed was unmistakable.
The ferryman's laughter was brief.
Darkness receded, and a new morning dawned.
"Good morning."
Enkrid shot up, grabbed Audin, and quickly learned some exercises before catching sight of Jaxen returning.
Without hesitation, he seized Jaxen's sleeve and dragged him outside.
The moment Jaxen felt his sleeve grabbed, he almost pushed away, but stopped when he realized it was his squad leader.
"Eh? Where are we going?" Rem called from behind.
"I have some questions."
Jaxen, nicknamed the Merchant of Equivalent Exchange, surprisingly knew a lot.
While Big Eyes was knowledgeable about general information, more critical insights often came through Jaxen.
The nickname stemmed from his knack for trading information—always giving and expecting something in return.
"You know Whistle Daggers, right?"
Jaxen furrowed his brow.
"Where did you hear about those?"
Observing Jaxen's reaction, Enkrid concluded the Whistle Daggers weren't ordinary items.
"Tell me about them."
"…Is this a trade?"
This wasn't Jaxen the soldier now, but Jaxen the Merchant of Equivalent Exchange.
"Yes."
The cost didn't matter.
This conversation would vanish when the day repeated.