Chapter 62 - A Knight's Integrity
"Wait for a moment. I'll send someone."
Even with permission, it wasn't time to depart just yet.
When he returned to the lodging, the squad members were like chicks waiting for their mother bird.
"Get ready."
With a single word, the situation was understood.
"Ah, I knew it! I trusted you, Squad Leader! I knew you'd make it!"
"Good."
Rem and Jaxen added their words, and the rest of the squad began to move.
At least they should prepare their equipment, even if it's just a little.
Anything said now would be warm and encouraging.
For once, all the squad members were in harmony.
Thud.
Even when Ragna and Rem accidentally bumped into each other while moving, neither paid it any mind.
Not a word was exchanged.
"You sly alley cat, don't you have an extra cloak? It's terribly cold."
Rem especially disliked the cold.
In response, Jaxen shook his head.
Normally, this situation would have escalated into a fight, but it passed smoothly.
'They're getting along well.'
How nice it would be if they could live like this, with each of them giving way just enough each day.
Of course, that was just a wish.
Watching the busy squad members, Enkrid sat on the edge of the bed.
Soon, someone sent by the company commander arrived.
"What's going on? The entire squad is being called for a mission?"
It was the 4th platoon leader, a messenger from the company commander.
"We're going to follow the assassin's trail. It's the Thief Guild."
"...Be careful. A dagger in the back, even a knight can't avoid dying. Thieves are dangerous."
The platoon leader added a worried remark, sharing an old story.
A dagger in the back.
Once, a general who ruled the continent was killed by the dagger of a subordinate he trusted deeply.
A story that might not even be a legend, just an old tale from the past.
It might not even be true.
Enkrid nodded, acknowledging it, but then...
"No, a knight can avoid it."
Ragna spoke.
"Even if you're not a knight, you can dodge."
Jaxen agreed.
"If you get stabbed from behind without even resisting, you're an idiot."
Rem finished off.
Before the platoon leader could finish speaking, the three of them cut in.
"Let's not talk about it."
The platoon leader shook his head and left.
'Crazy bastards.'
Anyway, permission had been granted.
"Let's go."
Enkrid stood up.
The weather was colder than yesterday, and the inside of the lodging felt like an icebox.
Their gear was sparse—Rem only had a hand axe.
Ragna had the arming sword he had exchanged with Enkrid before.
Jaxen had only a short sword.
Audin carried two small, oil-soaked and dried clubs, tucked into his belt.
"Stealing is wrong. Let's go send them to the lord, he shall teach them better."
Audin spoke as he stepped forward, and Rem chuckled at his words.
"Exactly. It's wrong."
Though their gear was minimal, Jaxen was bundled in thick furs, making him look bulky.
Ragna wore a patched-up, hole-riddled cloak made from layers of cloth—one that even a beggar would hesitate to covet.
But the most striking was Rem.
"Are you really going like that?"
Jaxen, of course, was within acceptable range, and Ragna's outfit could be deemed generous.
But this was something else.
Rem had wrapped himself completely in a blanket.
He looked like a walking bed.
He didn't even seem to want to stretch his arms, only his toes barely poking out.
"I hate the cold."
Would he listen if I tried to persuade him?
Enkrid decided to take the efficient route.
He ignored Rem.
"Let's go."
The troublemaker squad headed out toward the market.
"It seems dangerous."
Krais mumbled to himself as he followed.
Whether to clear the snow, his arms swollen from shoveling, or to risk danger, he chose the latter.
He really didn't want to clear the snow.
After any fight, Enkrid had the habit of reflecting and reviewing countless times.
It was his old habit, a means of survival.
This time was no different.
The half-elf caught everyone's attention with his whistle and Rotten.
'A trick.'
Simple, but effective concealment.
What he aimed for after that was close combat.
A single strike, a killing blow to end the fight.
For some reason, the half-elf had a fascination with hearts.
This made it easy to predict where he would strike, and through repeated encounters, Enkrid had already experienced his weapon form.
He could calculate and fight accordingly.
'What if I failed?'
Enkrid pondered.
'Did I rely on luck?'
The half-elf might not move as expected.
For him to move as planned, luck had to be involved to some extent.
Enkrid asked himself.
The first time, when he killed the stabbing pervert.
Enkrid had used his stabbing technique as his weapon.
It was a reckless gamble, putting his life on the line without thinking of the aftermath.
He replayed that moment in his mind, reminding himself of the mistake.
Had he made the same mistake this time?
No, not this time.
'I used a different move.'
In the end, he was the one who won.
Even in personal tactics, he had overwhelmed the enemy, and in previous skill, he was confident he could do the same.
Even if the half-elf had decided to fight seriously and Rotten had remained behind.
'My chances of winning are higher.'
Of course, it wouldn't have been as clean as it was now, with no injuries.
Reviewing, reflecting.
He repeated it over and over.
He walked, imagining the scenario and applying it to other situations.
The patrolmen who found Enkrid were taken aback twice.
First, they were shocked by the corpse, and then they were shocked again seeing the troublemaking squad leader, now at the level of a high ranking soldier.
They called him a senior soldier.
How many regular soldiers have demonstrated such skill in reality?
It's even more remarkable considering that his skills were practically nonexistent before this battle.
To cut to the chase, the conclusion is that he is no longer at the bottom of the swordsmanship spectrum—he's no longer scraping the floor like he once was.
Still, Enkrid pondered.
'There might have been an easier way.'
It was hard to believe he had such an attitude, given the repetitiveness of today.
But it was precisely this attitude that might explain why he always faced tomorrow.
His thoughts spiraled as he remembered the dream from the night before.
'Was I doing nothing?'
It was clearly an inexplicable presence.
He was thinking of the ferryman of the Black River.
The ferryman in his dream didn't mock him as before.
He simply stared silently and muttered one thing.
"What are you?"
The voice of one without a mouth.
Yet the emotion carried by the voice was clearly conveyed.
No, it was intentionally conveyed by the ferryman.
Enkrid instinctively sensed this.
The emotion contained in that single phrase was puzzlement.
It was pure curiosity, devoid of any trace of disappointment or anger.
Enkrid couldn't offer any answer.
After all, it had been a dream.
Although, it certainly wasn't an ordinary dream.
"Squad leader."
So lost in thought, Enkrid didn't notice someone gripping his arm from behind and calling his name until he stopped walking.
"Sorry, what did you say?"
He had let the words spoken to him earlier slip by unnoticed.
"You're asking to get stabbed by a thief with that mindset," Rem said. It didn't seem like a very long sentence.
More importantly, Rem, who had spoken, was dressed in a way that made it look like he might get stabbed and wrapped in a blanket if they proceeded like this.
Jaxen ignored Rem and spoke.
"Do we have a plan?"
A plan?
What kind of plan?
Enkrid's eyes narrowed, recalling the same confusion he'd felt from the ferryman in his dream.
"What, are you planning to just track down the thief guild and raid them without any plan? Do you even know where their headquarters is?"
Jaxen asked, folding his arms.
Despite the bulky clothes making his elbows stick out in a comical way, he remained unfazed.
The opponent was a criminal group that dealt with pickpocketing, human trafficking, and more.
The guild's name was Gilpin.
It literally meant the organization led by Gilpin.
It was commonly referred to as a thief guild, but in reality, it was just a criminal organization.
Would such people reveal their base of operations and operate openly?
No.
Like parasites in the city's shadows and alleyways, they kept themselves hidden.
"I don't know."
"I think we need to come up with a plan first."
"Were you really thinking of nothing?"
Rem chimed in again.
Ragna didn't say anything, just blowing out puffs of breath as he stared at the sky.
Audin gave only a small smile.
"Really, no thoughts at all?"
Krais, with his large eyes, asked, looking directly at Enkrid.
"I thought you might know where their base is."
"Even I wouldn't know the location of their guild. If I were to approach to figure it out, I'd get myself killed."
As he spoke, Krais mimicked the motion of slicing a throat with his hand.
A criminal guild killing the standing army?
Was their position that powerful?
They weren't likely to do such a thing.
Honestly, Enkrid didn't care.
He had no time or energy to concern himself with such things.
"Have you never run a small-scale operation before?"
Once again, Jaxen asked.
It seemed he was criticizing the idea of moving in without any strategy, as if they were just winging it.
Enkrid was gradually running out of things to say.
What had his life been like until now?
He had been too busy struggling to survive.
It was a daily battle to carve out time to swing his sword once more.
In all that time, there had been no chance to learn about strategy.
Of course, he had experience as a mercenary.
He had served as a squad leader before.
He had participated in small-scale operations many times.
But small-scale operations on the battlefield and in external settings were entirely different matters.
In the battlefield, like when he led the previous scouting team, small-scale operations were familiar ground, but now, the situation was different.
Not to mention...
'That was...'
Those were the results of struggling to survive, not moves based on careful planning.
Everything had been learned by putting his life on the line.
So, should he do the same this time?
Should he risk his life and repeat today's cycle?
Enkrid stopped walking.
A freezing wind sliced through his cloak and brushed against his side.
It was a chilling wind.
'I don't want that.'
He didn't want to repeat today as a method.
The pain of death was not something he welcomed.
Above all, his instincts told him he didn't need to.
So what should he do?
He hadn't come here with no plan.
He had considered ordinary methods.
"Isn't it easy to find out by asking around? Even if they hide well, the locals know."
There are no secrets in this world. Secrets are only sealed by death.
If the only one who knows the secret dies, no one can learn it.
A criminal organization couldn't hide itself completely.
So, someone must know where they are.
"That won't work. The Gilpin folks are good at cutting off their tracks. They're famous for being ruthless. Even if you capture low-ranking members and try to interrogate them, they won't know anything. And if they accidentally reveal something they know, Gilpin will rip off their limbs and cut out their tongues."
They ruled their organization through fear, punishing any betrayal.
Then what?
Enkrid had no immediate solution.
He could struggle to survive and come up with ways to do that.
But this wasn't a battlefield.
"Squad leader, give the orders."
As he lost himself in thought, Ragna, who had been staring at the sky, spoke.
Enkrid's gaze shifted to Ragna.
A swordsman with genius-level skills—someone who would be a formidable opponent in any fight.
This was Ragna, from Enkrid's perspective.
On a regular day, Ragna was lazy and careless.
He often got lost or dropped things from his pockets.
But occasionally, very rarely, Ragna could pinpoint the heart of the matter, digging deep, just like he would with a sword in hand.
"A squad leader just gives orders. Let those who know how to carry them out handle the rest."
That single sentence.
The words murmured by Ragna were like a heavy weight to Enkrid.
A squad leader, he said.
That had been his position all along.
He was the squad leader, the one who leads the squad.
So, had he been leading the squad all this time?
'Was I really the squad leader?'
No.
A person with no skill, struggling to survive, could never be the leader of a team.
Especially not when every single member of the squad was a top-tier fighter.
But Ragna's words changed the situation.
"Let's do it."
Rem acknowledged it.
Jaxen gave a subtle nod.
"We're doing it. You're right, brother. The captain gives the orders."
Audin supported him with a smile.
"Yeah, you're right. What's the matter?"
Only Krais seemed to be out of sync with the mood.
He had always thought of Enkrid as the squad leader in his heart.
"That's right. You're right. Jaxen, do you have a plan?"
Jaxen was the information merchant, a master of trade in exchange for knowledge.
While Krais's information was shallow and widespread, Jaxen's was narrow but deep.
"I do."
"Tell me."
"If you take the inn at the market and wait there, I'll be back before sunset."
Instead of giving an answer, he suggested stepping away.
"Leave it to me, and I'll find out."
"Alright. Let's head for the inn."
Once a decision was made, there was no turning back.
Enkrid proceeded with determination.
On the way to the inn, still not reaching the market square, with few people around, Enkrid continued speaking his mind.
"We'll find their headquarters and wipe them out in one go."
After all, they were a criminal organization.
There would be no need for further discussion when it came to trampling them by force, even if they had no charges against them.
Of course, it would end up as a matter of nobles or captains pocketing the profits.
'What's it to me?'
A knight, after all, doesn't let shame settle in their heart.
He had seen, heard, and dreamed of it all as a child.
And he had lived accordingly.
Even now, that was how he intended to live.