Chapter 77 - Two Days to Resolve
"When bored, practice sparring."
Torres summarized the situation.
"Then, we'll stay here for two days. If the issue isn't resolved by then, both of you will be escorted to the unit. Once witnesses or evidence are collected, we'll address the matter accordingly."
Polid attempted to protest, but a grinning man on his side grabbed his shoulder, whispered something in his ear, and restrained him.
Leona remained indifferent. "Fine."
She nodded, seemingly unbothered, as if this was what she had been hoping for all along.
Enkrid, observing the unfolding situation, nudged Jaxen in the side.
The ever-alert Jaxen intercepted the gesture with his palm. "What is it?"
"You've got a thing for collecting knives?"
This was news to Enkrid.
He'd never seen Jaxen display such behavior before.
All of Jaxen's belongings in the quarters were standard-issue supplies.
The man didn't even bother with personal items.
"It's Carmen's stiletto," Jaxen replied matter-of-factly, as though that explained everything.
Enkrid wasn't well-versed in such things.
He'd only heard in passing that Carmen's collection was both famous and exorbitantly expensive.
Jaxen elaborated when he noticed Enkrid's lack of comprehension.
"Even with dozens of gold coins, it's nearly impossible to acquire. Do you know who Carmen is? The title of 'master craftsman' isn't given lightly. A single blade from Carmen can spark deadly fights on the black market. A few years back, Carmen's third work, the Katar, surfaced and caused chaos among assassin guilds."
Enkrid didn't know the specifics, but the chaos Jaxen referred to wasn't an exaggeration.
Many professional killers lost their lives over that blade.
It was later reclaimed by the continent's top assassination group, rumored to be the Dagger of Geogr.
"The stiletto is Carmen's fourth work," Jaxen continued.
Carmen had crafted seven unique blades, each tied to a story:
First Kill – a pocket knife, used to murder a slave trader, Carmen's master, but was reportedly destroyed.
Stick Sword – a thin and long cane sword, used to stab the soldier who violated Carmen's sister.
Katar – used to kill the squire of the noble who led the soldiers.
Stiletto – used to pierce the noble's heart.
Hunting Dagger – used to slit the throats of the noble's followers.
Sword Breaker – to shatter the noble's treasured blade, symbolizing the completion of Carmen's revenge.
Invisible Blade – a weapon said to vanish in daylight.
Its true purpose remains a mystery.
Some speculate it was meant to kill Carmen himself, while others believe it failed its final purpose.
"That's quite a story to carry around," Enkrid remarked when Jaxen finished recounting it in a calm, deliberate tone.
Jaxen responded with indifference.
"It's not memorization; I simply know it."
Enkrid couldn't help but feel that Jaxen had shifted the topic to avoid lingering on his enthusiasm.
"Are you planning to sell it if you get it?" Enkrid teased.
"Why would I sell it?" Jaxen retorted, his eyes unusually wide.
Clearly, the stiletto wasn't just a treasure to him—it was a genuine desire.
Enkrid found it odd but didn't press further.
He had always kept a respectful distance from the personal lives of his squad members.
It was one of the secrets to his success as a unit leader.
Across the way, Polid's group huddled.
A plain-faced man, a laughing scoundrel, and a swordsman with drooping arms whispered among themselves.
The man with the rapier briefly locked eyes with Enkrid before averting his gaze.
Enkrid's thoughts shifted.
He's someone I'd like to test myself against.
***
"This complicates matters."
"A poor choice, it seems," said the swordsman, his tone dull.
"Perhaps inevitable," replied the plain-faced man with a resigned smile.
"Was it?"
The swordsman's interest seemed minimal.
His gaze wandered to the fairy and her companions.
Interesting people.
The fairy, in particular, caught his attention.
Known for wielding the "Sword of Speed," she seemed a worthy challenge.
The others weren't lacking either.
The red-haired one walked with silent confidence, ready to draw his blade at any moment.
"They're worth cultivating," the swordsman mused, imagining them under his command.
"What now?"
"When things got complicated before, what did we do?"
"We resolved it with brute force."
"Then do so again."
The swordsman's gaze flickered to Enkrid, noting the soldier's fair face and steady demeanor.
Not so young, but interesting nonetheless.
It felt like watching an excited kid gripping a sword for the first time.
Showing such blatant fighting spirit…
To claim it didn't stir something within would be a lie.
When someone flaunts their confidence, isn't it natural for a swordsman to want to answer the challenge?
"Please, I'm counting on you."
The brown-haired man gave a slight bow before turning to Polid, trying to calm him down.
"Don't lose your temper. There's no need to worry. After all, if there's no evidence, it's over. Besides, once we're back in the city, whose side do you think the merchants will take?"
"But… but what if they catch them?"
"It'll still be fine."
The brown-haired man smiled with his eyes, soothing Polid's anxieties.
Polid remained uneasy but had no choice but to force a grin.
"Trust me."
Polid squeezed out some courage and added, "Once we're back, it's over. Everyone is my father's man, so they'll all back me up. That harlot will be done for. If it's a shame to waste her, maybe I'll even take her as a concubine."
Would that really happen?
The brown-haired man thought Polid was an idiot but kept it to himself.
Leona silently observed the two.
She couldn't hear the conversation clearly.
The brown-haired man had faith in the strength of the enforcer.
The enforcer, meanwhile, was entertaining the idea of whether knocking out the soldier flaunting his fighting spirit could lead to a fight with the fairy.
Jaxen overheard their conversation but paid it no mind.
To him, it seemed like an act to put Polid at ease.
His only interest lay in acquiring Carmen's stiletto.
Krais.
He hoped Krais had successfully swayed the guild members.
Jaxen trusted him.
Though Krais was physically inept, his resourcefulness was exceptional.
Having spent time together in the same unit, Jaxen had seen this firsthand.
There was no need for concern.
If it doesn't work out…
The dagger could always be acquired through other means.
As Enkrid stepped aside to respect Jaxen's peculiar hobby, Torres, having wrapped up the situation, approached him.
"How have you been?"
"No reason not to be fine."
"True. Looks like we'll be wasting two days in this inn."
Torres had a point, but was it necessary to idly waste time?
Enkrid trusted Krais to do his part.
In the underworld, rules governed their domain, and it was best to leave matters to experts.
Krais was one of those experts.
Why else would he have chosen to enter the "Madmen" unit directly?
There were many possible reasons, but the clearest one was simple: he didn't have to fight.
The atmosphere in this unit was fundamentally different from others.
Krais had found his place and surely had a plan in mind when he decided to seize control of the guild. Enkrid believed in him.
Sure enough, by evening, someone sent by Krais arrived.
"Is there someone named Enkrid here?"
It was a boy, barely a teenager, his voice just beginning to deepen.
Nervous, he glanced around, wary of his surroundings.
A guard stationed at the inn motioned toward the interior.
At that moment, Enkrid, who had been training in isolation techniques using the tables and chairs in the hall, stepped forward.
Bare-chested, he draped a large cloth over himself as he walked out. The cold wind chilled the sweat on his forehead almost instantly.
The air was biting.
"That's me."
The boy, dressed in a makeshift coat, stared at Enkrid and said firmly, "I have a message for you."
The boy's tone was resolute.
Enkrid pulled out a few coins from his pouch, sensing the boy's nervousness and figuring he could use some spare change.
The boy's determined attitude left a favorable impression.
However, the boy refused the coins.
"No need. I'll receive my payment from the guild."
Instead, he handed over a small note.
It was an impressive gesture, one that suggested Krais had a firm grip on the guild.
A mere errand boy declining coins—remarkable.
"Who is he?"
One of the guards stationed around the inn asked as he approached.
"He's from Krais," Enkrid replied candidly.
"What's he up to now?"
Krais was known for dabbling in various ventures, handling information, selling tobacco, and arranging courtesans.
Hiring a kid for errands was nothing out of the ordinary.
Enkrid returned to his room and unfolded the note.
"Before the morning, two days from now."
Though brief, the message was clear.
Krais would have their target soon.
"What are you up to all day?"
Torres asked as Enkrid tossed the note into the fireplace.
"Training."
"During a guard mission?"
"It's not like anyone will attack us right now."
"And the client doesn't mind?"
"As you can see."
"Fair enough."
Even Leona seemed unbothered, watching him with interest.
Enkrid paid no attention to her or anyone else.
Audin's advice echoed in his mind.
"Isolation techniques build your body like a fortress, one day at a time. Dedicate yourself today to lay the foundation for tomorrow."
He admired how elegantly Audin had phrased it.
Missing even a single day would be a disservice to himself.
Enkrid was a man of resolve.
He incorporated isolation techniques into his daily sword training.
"Don't you ever get bored?"
Not at all.
Watching himself improve day by day was exhilarating.
The training helped him maintain his blade's edge and focus.
The "Heart of the Beast" technique, however, wasn't something he could use lightly during training.
As he continued his practice, shirtless once again, Torres commented with a smirk, "You must have no sense of modesty, being the daughter of a merchant family."
Leona simply smiled lightly in response, her eyes fixed on Enkrid.
His face, his body, and even the sweat dripping from his efforts—everything aligned perfectly with her preferences.
Unfazed by the stares, Enkrid focused on his movements.
Watching him intently, the fairy company commander asked Jaxen, "Does he enjoy being the center of attention?"
"Not sure," Jaxen replied curtly.
The commander didn't press further, her gaze returning to Enkrid.
A well-trained body and a handsome face were always a welcome sight.
Enkrid gripped the chair's sides, lowering himself until his body hung below it before pushing himself back up, his forearm muscles flexing with each motion.
As Torres observed, two border guards joined him.
"Is that him?"
"The one who took down the curse? Yeah, that's him."
Speaking loud enough for Enkrid to hear, the guards chuckled.
Enkrid, finishing a cycle of his training, turned to Torres.
"Bored? How about a sparring match?"
With plenty of time to kill and a spacious yard behind the inn designed for mercenaries and swordsmen, it was an ideal setting for a friendly duel.
"Your lady's quite generous," Torres said, glancing at Leona.
She nodded without hesitation.
"This should be entertaining."
Her quick approval left Torres no room to object.
The guards welcomed the idea even more enthusiastically.
"Isn't he supposed to be only high rank?"
"You're up first, Captain Torres. This kind of thing starts from the bottom, right?"
The growing excitement pleased Enkrid.
"Why not all at once?"
Thus began an unexpected sparring frenzy.
To avoid turning the duel into something deadly, they snapped branches to use as makeshift swords, though everyone took the practice seriously.
"Count me in," said the company commander, joining the fray.
By then, everyone in the inn had become spectators.
"They're insane," muttered one of Leona's bodyguards, shaking his head.
Yet, with Leona's permission, there was no stopping them.