Chapter 94 - Punishment or Opportunity?
Under the soft moonlight of a rising night, Enkrid had just returned from his usual grueling training.
He had washed and entered the quarters, his body steaming faintly in the cold.
Though the weather was warming, the nights remained chilly, and Enkrid's breath formed mist as he moved.
In two days, they would cross the river and begin a terrain reconnaissance operation.
Yet the training intensity showed no signs of easing.
Such things were immutable.
No matter what awaited, the principle remained the same: build today to face tomorrow.
Enkrid's daily routine was unchanging, as predictable as the ferryman's grumble.
Returning to his quarters, he noticed Enri, who had been speaking with Krais, approach before halting abruptly.
His gaze had fallen upon Enkrid's bed, already occupied by Esther.
The lake panther had made it her habit to rest there.
Even if she had been playing with her grimoire earlier, when bedtime came, that spot was hers.
She now lay sprawled, her head resting on her front paws.
Her gaze briefly shifted to Enri before returning to her own feet, conveying complete disinterest.
Enri, cautious as always, maintained his distance, avoiding walking too close to the legendary creature.
Lake panthers were revered as guardian spirits in the Green Pearl Plains, and Enri showed no intention of testing that reputation.
Instead, he raised his voice slightly from across the bed.
"Have you ever had pathfinder training? I noticed you seemed to have some knowledge in that area."
Enkrid scratched his forehead. "Not at all."
He could guess why Enri might be under that impression.
After all, what Enkrid knew, he had learned from Enri himself during their previous ventures in the tall grasses of the Green Pearl.
Enkrid's understanding came from observing and absorbing bits of knowledge over time.
"Then, do you know the route along the upper river?" Enri asked.
The area above the Pen-Hanil River leaned toward the northern territories.
Even as a mercenary, Enkrid had never ventured there.
"The ground might be thawing with spring, but it'll still be firm," Enri continued.
"I've been through there a few times. Should I share what I know?"
Enri had a pragmatic nature.
Whether his hunting background shaped his demeanor or vice versa, he was the type to assess situations and focus on what mattered most.
This trait made him an easy fit within the unit, blending naturally.
Even now, he had risen from a conversation with Krais to offer assistance.
Remarkably, Rem never seemed to hassle Enri.
If anything, the others either ignored or tolerated him, with no overt hostility.
"Seems like the hunter's done some wandering," Rem remarked while sitting on his bed, sharpening an axe with a whetstone.
His gaze shifted toward a corner of the room, where Andrew and Mac sat.
Andrew flinched under that look, his shoulders tensing briefly.
"Cut it out," Enkrid warned Rem.
"What? Favoring the newcomers now? That's how you end up stabbed in the back, you know—pampering a new wife while neglecting the old one."
The analogy made no sense.
Who was the "new wife" and the "old wife"?
"You're insane," Enkrid muttered dismissively before turning to Enri, who hesitated to approach the bed because of Esther.
As Enkrid passed, Esther nudged his thigh with her paw, emitting a low growl.
Her gesture seemed to say, Hurry up and get to bed.
"Jealous too, huh?" Enkrid thought wryly.
The unit's quarters carried a strange tension.
It had begun after Enri, Andrew, and Mac joined.
True to their reputation, this was a squad full of mad bastards.
There was no welcoming atmosphere for newcomers.
Enkrid saw no need to force camaraderie.
Each soldier would fend for themselves in battle.
Trying to align with others' pace only led to needless risks.
Their lone guideline was simple: Take care of your own life.
"Feels like walking on eggshells," Enri had remarked upon joining.
He probably didn't realize that this was a milder atmosphere compared to past experiences.
When new recruits had joined before, the hostility was palpable.
Some outright ignored Enkrid's authority as squad leader, only to end up severely injured and sent back within days.
Whether by Rem's doing or someone else's hand, it always seemed to happen.
"Most likely a collective effort by the squad," Enkrid mused.
This time, at least, the situation was manageable.
The newcomers were familiar faces and appeared to like Enkrid, reducing the chances of anyone being maimed or driven out.
"I can share a few things about the upper Pen-Hanil River," Enri offered.
"You probably already know most of it, but it doesn't hurt to learn more. For instance, do you know about flat stones? The ones near the river?"
From Enri, Enkrid learned practical tidbits: flat stones, unless tinged with ochre, would explode when heated; ochre stones often concealed venomous snakes beneath them; and certain stretches of the river had deceptive depths and swift currents.
It wasn't possible to memorize everything in a single day, but knowing even a little was a significant advantage.
As the night deepened, Mac settled beside Enkrid, leaning in to whisper, "I've got a favor to ask."
Enkrid felt the eyes of the entire squad—except for Ragna, who was on duty—turn toward him.
His instincts flared a warning.
Should I intervene or let it play out?
"If this keeps up, I wonder what will happen."
Returning from the mission, Mac envisioned Andrew and himself withered and dead.
"Could you process my transfer request?"
Despite the tension in the air, Mac spoke up, his eyes fierce.
"Brother, it's easy to come in, but not so simple to leave."
Audin's response, half a joke, carried the teasing spirit typical of their squad.
But jokes like this often blurred the line between jest and reality.
Mac muttered, "Was he listening the whole time?" before Andrew suddenly leaped to his feet.
"If you have a problem with me, bring it on! No matter what anyone says, I'll learn under our squad leader—no, our platoon leader. I'm not leaving!"
The outburst revealed the fiery spirit of a soldier, youthful and full of defiance.
Rem stood up next, his sharpened axe in hand, a smile playing on his lips.
"Where should I start cutting?" he mused, mockingly licking the blade.
Even Enkrid felt a chill.
With his foreign features, steely gray eyes, and unmistakable seriousness, Rem seemed like he might actually take an arm if provoked.
"If he goes first, does that leave me fighting scraps? I'll go first," Jaxen interjected, shaking his head.
It was his first direct remark about Andrew since the latter joined.
"Brothers, you know I never kill," Jaxen added, voice flat.
"I'll just make it hurt a little. That's why I should go first."
The three of them seemed more than eager.
Mac, watching this unfold, tugged on Enkrid's sleeve.
"Stop them! What are these lunatics doing? And why did Andrew say that?"
To avoid seeing a grown man cry, Enkrid had to step in.
"Enough."
Fortunately, Enkrid knew this was less serious than it appeared.
Rem's threats often masked his intent to spar rather than cause real harm—a strange show of goodwill.
Jaxen, usually indifferent, even engaging, hinted at camaraderie.
Audin's earlier joke would have been replaced with stern words had there been genuine disdain.
Still, Enkrid struggled to find the words to explain it all.
"Listen, kid, I'm busy right now," Rem finally said with his usual unsettling grin.
"But when our platoon leader heads out on a mission, we'll have plenty of time. Cry all you want then, but you're not leaving."
Andrew paled but stood his ground, his voice steady despite the fear.
"Bring it on! I'm Andrew of the Gardeners—I won't back down!"
It wasn't just Enkrid's imagination;
Andrew's resolve was palpable.
As the tension simmered, Krais shook his head, while Enri observed silently.
Rem's unsettling grin grew wider, his presence casting a foreboding shadow.
Audin murmured, "Relax, brother. These things are inevitable."
Jaxen, meanwhile, coldly examined Andrew and Mac, muttering, "Maybe a few fingers wouldn't be missed."
Enkrid had to intervene.
"Don't hurt him. We're squadmates, and we've got a mission coming up."
It was both a warning and an acknowledgment of their bonds.
Enkrid knew he couldn't stop them entirely, nor did he have the authority to.
"Just keep it quiet."
"Don't worry," Audin quipped.
"I'll start by cutting tongues."
"Bring it on!" Andrew shouted, his desperation unmistakable.
By the time Enkrid calmed Andrew down, his night's rest was long gone.
Later, as he lay in bed, Esther crawled onto his chest, pawing at him as if scolding him for being late.
"Sorry," Enkrid murmured, stroking her forehead.
The panther purred, snuggling closer, warmth radiating from her.
Despite the comfort, Enkrid's thoughts drifted uneasily.
Sometimes, nightmares of a boatman haunted his sleep.
Tonight was no different.
The dark, swirling river stretched endlessly, and the boatman's voice echoed.
"Cry out in your confinement. Your screams are my nourishment and joy."
The laughter that followed was ghastly, unnatural.
Waking from the nightmare, Enkrid pushed the fear aside.
"What will happen will happen," he thought.
There was no stopping it.
With that, he rose before dawn.
"Good morning," he muttered, starting his day like any other.
He began with the Isolation Technique, followed by Valaf's unarmed combat forms, sparring with Rem, sword practice with Ragna, and sensory training with Jaxen.
"Instinct can be dangerous," Jaxen warned.
"A skilled opponent can exploit them."
The solution?
Constant practice, honing his skills through battle.
Meanwhile, Andrew, Mac, and Enri adapted to the squad's dynamics, their struggles akin to Enkrid's own in his early days.
Two days later, as dawn broke, Enkrid passed by the sleeping squadmates and stepped outside.
The mission was to cross the Pen-Hanil River and survey the terrain—a direct order from the battalion commander.
It was a high-risk, high-reward task.
Krais had excitedly described the new commander, Marcus, as a ruthless but fair leader.
"A war fanatic," Krais had said.
"He rewards achievements but never spares the guilty. A product of Naurilia's military policies."
The mission could be punishment or opportunity.
For Enkrid, it was the latter—a chance to prove himself.
As he approached the city gate, he met the team tasked with crossing the river.
Among them was Torres, a frontier defense platoon leader.