Chapter 72 - Refined Through Constant Training (1)
It was an obvious choice, so Jaxen was selected.
When it comes to assignments, it's only logical to work with the one most capable.
Jaxen had taken on the most assignments among the Troublemakers Squad.
This meant he had the most experience and, consequently, the most demand.
His heightened senses were invaluable for escort missions—this didn't need repeating.
Compared to the other squad members, the odds of him clashing with the escort target were also significantly lower.
"Understood."
Jaxen nodded naturally, while Rem protested loudly, unable to accept the decision.
Then Ragna chimed in, expressing doubts about the logic of it all.
Audin added his own comment, questioning whether this aligned with divine will.
Predictably, this led to Ragna and Rem bickering.
Jaxen, observing from the side, made a sharp comment aimed at Rem.
Ragna withdrew, leaving Rem and Jaxen to argue instead.
Enkrid tried to mediate repeatedly, but by the end, he simply ordered them to avoid even looking at each other.
"If you're going to spar, do it with me," Enkrid concluded, wrapping up the day with one-on-one training sessions with the squad.
One might expect mental exhaustion from such routines, but for Enkrid, this was standard.
After all, someone who had endured long years wielding a sword despite his lack of talent wouldn't be fazed by this.
If such mental strain had affected him, he'd have abandoned the sword long ago in favor of a plow.
"As expected of the squad leader," Krais remarked, once again giving a thumbs-up.
It was another round of praise for Enkrid's steadfastness.
He nodded slightly in acknowledgment.
The escort mission was set for the following day.
It involved a mid-sized merchant group dealing with a succession dispute, requiring escort within the city.
Three personnel were assigned: the fairy company commander, Enkrid, and Jaxen.
There was no need to move at dawn; the escort target wasn't expected in the city until midday.
***
The next morning, after a good night's sleep, Enkrid woke to find Esther nestled against him.
"Why did you act like that yesterday?"
Half-asleep and groggy, he asked, only for Esther to give his chest a soft tap with her paw.
Although the reason for her anger was unclear, it seemed like her way of making peace.
"Alright, take it easy today."
There wasn't much Esther needed to do.
At night, she'd crawl into bed.
In the morning, she'd laze around until she got up.
Occasionally, she wandered outside, likely hunting mice near the city.
Enkrid didn't usually prepare meals specifically for her but did hand out jerky as a treat.
Surprisingly, the entire squad doted on Esther.
Krais, in particular, was especially attentive.
"Lake Panthers shed their claws when the time comes. You won't mind if I collect them, right?"
Apparently, claw-shedding was akin to molting.
Krais had a practical reason for his affection.
"You little rascal."
"Meow."
Her nonchalant head turn was endearing.
Amused, Enkrid scratched the top of her head a couple of times before getting up.
It was breakfast time.
"Let's see how well you manage without me," Rem quipped.
His glare caught Enkrid's attention, prompting a reflexive punch.
Thud.
Rem blocked it with his palm.
"Do you really think breaking an arm is no issue? Picking a fight first thing in the morning?"
"No, it was reflexive when I saw your face."
"That's even more insulting."
Fair enough.
Despite his words, Rem didn't retaliate.
After all, it was mission day.
No point risking injury beforehand.
Breakfast consisted of flattened, grilled pork tenderloin and boiled potatoes—a bland combination.
"This is good for you. Meat strengthens muscles, brothers," Audin remarked.
Isolation Technique emphasized building the body, and proper nutrition was key.
Though it was unappetizing, Enkrid ate it without complaint, knowing the importance of proper sustenance.
After spending the remaining time conditioning his body through Isolation Technique, it was time to depart.
Enkrid washed at the well and geared up.
He donned the leather armor he'd taken from the raid on the Gilpin Guild.
It was a simple, flexible piece that only covered his torso but wasn't restrictive.
Over the armor, he strapped the knife sheath for his Whistle Daggers.
"That?" Jaxen asked, gesturing toward the sheath.
"I picked it up from an assassin I killed."
"Thrifty, aren't you?"
If that's how it seemed, so be it.
In any case, it was a useful tool, so it had been worth keeping.
Weapons of this sort were always better in surplus.
After layering on a thick gambeson, Enkrid completed his preparations and stepped outside.
He walked alongside Jaxen toward the city's inn district.
Along the way, Jaxen offered tips on observation and listening skills.
And of course, he couldn't resist adding, "You're so dull."
Enkrid remained unfazed.
He was well aware of his limitations.
At the central crossroads, where four inns were located, the company commander was already waiting.
"Has the escort target arrived?"
Enkrid offered a brief military salute and asked.
"Not yet. Should be here soon."
Rumor had it the escort target had quite the personality.
That bit of information had come from Krais, who seemed more attuned to gossip than ever since joining the guild.
"They're here to settle a succession issue, right?"
Though curious about their temperament, Enkrid wasn't overly concerned.
Few could rival Rem in unruliness.
Spending a month with the Troublemakers Squad would make even the most troublesome individuals seem harmless.
Enkrid remained at ease.
Jaxen had no particular thoughts.
To him, a job was just a job.
The task was simple: provide protection for three days.
Once the succession meeting concluded, the mission would end.
Ensuring safety within the city wasn't a complex matter.
The company commander, observing Enkrid's composure, reflected on why he'd been brought along.
The troublemaker squad leader was a target of Aspen's assassins—a testament to his clean record.
Moreover, his handling of the thief guild and subsequent actions had left a strong impression.
He'd kept the bribes flowing and transformed a criminal guild into an information network.
This avoided conflicts with higher-ups, who would've been displeased if the bribes had stopped.
The commander had considered intervening if issues arose, but Enkrid had made that unnecessary.
"Not going as planned, but not bad either," the commander mused.
As they waited for the escort target, the commander spoke.
"Were we involved at some point?"
Enkrid, resting his hand on his sword's hilt, momentarily froze.
He turned his head slowly and asked, "What do you mean?"
"Well, if I can hear the rumors, you probably know them too."
"It's a misunderstanding. Just baseless gossip. Things have been slow lately, so people fill their time with nonsense."
"Is that so?"
"Yes."
"So, what is our relationship?"
"It's the one between a superior and a subordinate."
"I see."
He dismissed the topic lightly.
Rumors certainly spread far and wide.
"Ahem."
Jaxen cleared his throat next to him.
A quick glance revealed his twitching lips, evidence of suppressed laughter.
"You find this funny?"
He mouthed the words silently.
"I didn't laugh."
Jaxen mouthed back.
The company commander, a fairy, caught their silent exchange with a mere sidelong glance.
Lip-reading was no challenge for a fairy.
"You must have been troubled."
"Not at all."
Enkrid answered immediately.
"You seemed troubled."
"I wasn't."
"Then, did you enjoy it?"
Why was she doing this?
"Not... yes."
His reply came out unusually drawn out.
It would have been nice if he'd cracked a smile afterward, but his face remained impassive.
Moreover, he didn't even meet her gaze, instead staring off toward the distant city.
"Fairy humor," he thought.
It was something he never quite got used to.
"They're here," Jaxen's words rescued Enkrid from the awkward situation.
Their escort target had arrived.
Thud, thud.
As the two carriages approached, the ground trembled slightly.
Enkrid figured dealing with the escort target would be far easier than handling the company commander.
"That was amusing," the commander whispered behind him, sending a chill down Enkrid's spine.
Even though he was wearing a cloak lined with heated leather, he felt a shiver.
The carriages stopped, and a figure disembarked.
It wasn't what Enkrid expected.
Rather than the puffed-up cheeks of a greedy toad, the person was a striking woman with long blonde hair and reddish-brown eyes.
Her beauty was immediately striking.
With a sharp click of her boots against the ground, she descended from the carriage, directly meeting the fairy commander's gaze.
"Please take care of me," she said.
No introduction about her being the escort target from the standing army was necessary.
From that moment on, she only conversed with her own entourage.
The middle-aged woman by her side, likely her nanny, relayed the blonde's instructions to the escorts.
She was said to be twenty years old, but her peculiar temperament was still a mystery.
"You'd have to talk to her to know," Enkrid thought.
Having never exchanged even a glance with her, he couldn't say much.
"This job looks easy," Jaxen remarked.
Enkrid nodded in agreement.
They had wondered if she would arrive alone, but five armed escorts accompanied her.
Three carried shields, and two wielded thin rapiers.
Enkrid applied what he had learned.
"Age, posture, positioning, gaze—everything is information, brother," Audin had said.
By observing their stances, he formed an outline of their physical capabilities and made educated guesses.
"Could I be right?"
He wasn't sure.
Frogs were said to instinctively gauge their opponent's strength, but humans required knowledge and experience.
"It comes with practice, brother," Audin had reassured him, though it was clear this wasn't something mastered overnight.
Enkrid wasn't impatient.
He carefully observed the five escorts.
One was left-handed.
When sitting down, their chair creaked under their weight, suggesting they wore heavy equipment.
However, no one wore chainmail armor.
It was winter—the end of the season, often called the harshest cold.
Who would wear metal armor unnecessarily?
Walking alongside the carriage as an escort, a thick gambeson was the more practical choice.
This group had followed that logic.
Experience and common sense, paired with what he learned from Audin, allowed him to deduce much.
Judging by their posture and equipment, they were all less capable than border guard's.
In terms of soldier ranking, they were below high level.
Enkrid reflected on his observations.
"Not bad."
Judging skill from posture and equipment was something he'd never dared to attempt before.
Feeling this growth brought him joy—a feeling that never dulled.
Each time it was new and exhilarating.
Whether in swordsmanship, combat techniques, or martial arts, the progress was a source of relentless satisfaction.
Even if there were no opportunities to draw his sword during this mission, simply applying and refining what he had learned brought immense joy.
"Shall we try a fun little game?"
Jaxen's suggestion piqued his interest.
It wasn't merely a game; it was a training method.
"Sound matching," Jaxen explained.
"Let's do it," Enkrid replied.
Like Audin and the others, Jaxen had an intense passion for teaching.
It was an invisible, cold flame, but it was impossible to miss.
Since Enkrid was the beneficiary of that zeal, he couldn't refuse.
As expected, it wasn't just a game.
Jaxen proposed one of the training methods for sharpening their senses to blade movements.
Of course, it wasn't easy.
"The sound of a tongue clicking," Jaxen said, and Enkrid frowned.
"Too slow."
Escort missions were typically uneventful, especially here at Border Guard.
Calling in reinforcements when private escorts were already present made it clear—they wanted to deter anyone daring enough to attack.
The Border Guard was under direct royal command.
Challenging the royal forces within their own territory?
Even the renowned Rengadis caravan, known for their blank promissory notes, wouldn't dare.
"Third man at the left table," Jaxen noted.
How could he discern that just by listening?
Enkrid was also honing his awareness, almost as if he had eyes in the back of his head.
It was a simple yet challenging game.
Jaxen named a sound, and Enkrid focused on identifying its source.
"The sound of a blade being sharpened."
The kitchen?
No, it's higher up.
Enkrid activated his full concentration.
Sweat dripped from his forehead despite the chill in their corner of the inn.
"Above."
"Direction's correct. Which floor?"
The inn had three floors.
Should he guess?
No, that wouldn't be proper training.
"Room 102, perhaps?"
Jaxen revealed the correct answer.
The key was timing—responding promptly.
After a few rounds, the fairy commander joined them.
"Let me play."
Her participation raised the stakes.
With sharper senses than humans, fairies were a formidable challenge.
"The short blade, sheathing and unsheathing repeatedly."
The question was posed again.
Enkrid missed repeatedly, while the fairy commander answered without pause.
"Outside the inn entrance."
"The sound of concealed breathing."
How did she even notice that?
Although incredulous, Enkrid couldn't deny her accuracy.
"Just beyond the window."
"Someone crouching, holding their breath."
"Under the table to your right."
"Someone sneaking glances."
"Behind you."
At some point, the game turned into something else entirely.
The escort target, heir to a trade caravan, had brought personal guards and occupied part of the inn's main hall.
And then—
"An attack is imminent."
"I agree."
Enkrid finally grasped their conversation's meaning.
Jaxen stood abruptly, pushing his chair back.
Scrape! Thud!
A gasp escaped as the back of the chair struck someone's thigh.
A startled man holding a blackened dagger was revealed.
Thanks to the sound training, Enkrid had been on edge.
He turned swiftly, catching sight of another assailant with a dagger ready to strike.
Startled, the attacker froze momentarily, allowing Enkrid to grab his wrist.
Crunch.
Twisting the wrist outward and pulling, Enkrid brought the man closer and struck his sternum with an elbow.
Thud.
The assailant dropped his dagger as his chest cracked. Enkrid caught the falling weapon and flung it toward a wooden pillar, where it stuck with a solid thunk.
Someone might think he narrowly avoided the attack, but Enkrid had anticipated it all along.
"Everything's a lesson, after all," he thought.