Chapter 99 - When Luck Does Not Follow (1)
At the break of dawn, Enkrid woke to face yet another identical day.
His routine remained unchanged—honing his body through the Isolation technique.
Another day began anew.
Most of it was just like the days before.
Training his body, observing the scouts, and Finn.
After finishing his swordsmanship training early in the morning, Enkrid inspected his gear.
Since the battle with the ghouls, he had neglected to check his equipment in the mornings.
"Starting again from here."
It marked the beginning of a new day.
It was also time to decide on a direction.
Would he take the same escape route again, or choose a different path?
He lifted his sword to eye level, tilting it slightly, keeping it parallel to the ground.
As he inspected the blade, he found no nicks or damage.
Looking at the blade, Enkrid pondered what mattered most amidst these repetitive days.
"First, assess the situation."
If there were three paths ahead, he wanted to know what lay at the end of each one.
It felt as though the three paths had been waiting for him all along, laid out before his eyes.
"How" he would move toward tomorrow was a matter for later consideration.
After polishing the blade with prepared leather and double-checking his other gear, he unwound and rewrapped the leather strap on the hilt.
This act marked the start of a different kind of day.
Since it was impossible to count each passing day, he had developed this method as a way of commemorating the first day over and over.
Rewrapping the leather strap on the sword grip symbolized the beginning of his second day.
Enkrid remembered.
"If we're heading out this morning, shouldn't we get a move on?"
Torres, eating jerky for breakfast, commented casually.
Having tasted the seasoned jerky, Torres often clung to Enkrid every morning.
Enkrid was about to respond when he noticed Finn approaching.
On her left hip, she carried a hand axe; her sturdy boots bore thick soles, and on her right hip, she wore a short sword.
Over her body was a thin, well-tanned leather armor.
He had previously noticed how the armor flexed easily with her movements.
"It must be lightweight," he thought.
Her equipment reflected the light armament of a scout unit, who carried only the essentials to move swiftly.
"Rangers go first."
This was their motto.
Being the ones who walked ahead, they carried the lightest loads.
Compared to heavily armored infantry, Enkrid himself was classified as a light infantryman, but his gear was relatively heavier when compared to scouts.
Even just one longsword could be cumbersome.
But what about their skills in an actual fight?
This had been a lingering question over the past few days.
Considering the physical conditioning he'd achieved through the Isolation technique, he doubted he would lag behind Torres.
With time to spare today, it seemed like a good opportunity.
To make today different from yesterday, he dismissed the option of sticking his head into the same hole first thing in the morning.
"What about scaling the wall under the cover of night?"
Enkrid proposed as soon as Finn drew closer.
Beating around the bush only prolonged conversations unnecessarily.
Sometimes, exposing one's intentions and goals openly was advantageous for steering a discussion.
Enkrid excelled in this regard.
"Out of nowhere?"
"I have a bad feeling about it."
When Finn tilted her head in confusion, Enkrid replied without hesitation.
She was well aware of the nickname his unit had given him.
Aside from titles like Demonic Squad Leader or Spell Breaker, the most commonly used phrase to describe him was:
"The one loved by the Goddess of Luck."
This was it.
If another soldier or commander claimed to have a bad feeling, it might be easy to dismiss.
But when it came from him, it carried a different weight.
"A bad feeling?"
Of course, Finn, unaware of his reputation, found the statement puzzling.
Torres, however, responded differently.
After briefly studying Enkrid's face, Torres stroked his chin and said,
"If all three options are equally viable, crossing the wall doesn't sound too bad."
He agreed instantly, without even questioning the reason—simply trusting the gut feeling.
Finn tilted her head again, puzzled by this odd trust, before speaking.
"Are you aware that climbing a wall isn't exactly easy?"
"Nothing in this world comes easy."
Enkrid replied.
When two out of three people agreed on a path, the decision was easy.
Finn didn't particularly care which path they took.
That's why she had laid out all three options to begin with.
With a nod, she conceded.
"Alright, fine."
There was no need for a battle of wills.
Finn even felt a subtle fondness for Enkrid.
"How about a bout first?"
Enkrid suggested as he secured the sheathed sword to his waist, freshly wrapped in leather straps.
"Oh-ho."
Torres chimed in enthusiastically.
The invitation was clearly directed at Finn.
"Me? You want to spar with me? I'm not exactly a combat specialist."
That couldn't be true.
No one with such a well-trained physique could avoid being skilled in combat.
"I'm not a swordsmanship specialist either," Enkrid retorted, shrugging as Finn showed her palms.
"Even barehanded would be fine. We don't want injuries before an important mission, after all."
Would it be a valuable experience? Who knew? Regardless, the sight of her conditioned body piqued his competitive spirit.
And Finn, despite her amiable feelings toward Enkrid, suddenly felt a similar desire to test her skills.
"It's been a while."
Though she had once been passionate about training, she had stopped after hitting her limits.
Still, she wasn't someone to be easily bested, not even by the likes of Enkrid, whose swordsmanship had impressed her during his battle with the ghouls.
"Without swords involved..."
She doubted she'd lose easily.
Everyone had their strengths, and hers was hand-to-hand combat.
"It's been a while since I've seen this," remarked one of the scouts. A man with a bandit-like appearance but a surprisingly soft demeanor.
He had once helped dry Enkrid's clothes over a branch, and his comment suggested familiarity with Finn's skills.
"Stop talking nonsense," Finn muttered, her eyes now gleaming with determination. She was already in combat mode.
"We've got time until nightfall," she said, granting permission.
Enkrid unsheathed his sword and set it aside, removing his gambeson and leather armor. Wearing only a thin shirt secured with leather straps at his chest, he stood opposite her.
The scouts and Torres quickly formed a large circle, creating space for the duel.
At the center, Torres chuckled and said,
"This feels like déjà vu."
He was likely referring to the sparring match during Enkrid's promotion.
Torres recalled how much Enkrid had changed since then.
"Let's begin."
Soon, the duel commenced.
Finn's specialty was close-quarters combat, and she made no attempt to hide it.
She shifted her stance, sidestepping before swiftly closing the distance.
Enkrid had also learned striking techniques from Audin.
He spread his legs front and back, stepping lightly while extending his left hand straight out. Unlike wide, sweeping punches, a direct, straight punch had a shorter trajectory—faster, resembling a sword's thrust.
Finn displayed an almost acrobatic movement upon seeing it. With her eyes wide open, she ducked low, evading the punch with the minimal necessary movement. Enkrid's thrusting punch only grazed her hair.
'This reminds me…'
The movement brought back memories of his time escorting Leona Rockfreed. Back then, when Enkrid had climbed to the second floor to save her, he had dodged a dagger thrown by the enemy with just a slight tilt of his head.
Finn's evasion of his punch mirrored that motion, flowing into a close-quarters engagement.
'Is she going for a tackle?'
The thought was brief, and his judgment was swift.
With a sharp motion, he drove his right elbow downward instead of following through with his extended left fist. It was a brutal attack, one that could have punctured her lower back had it landed.
But Finn avoided even that. Her movements were serpentine—flexibly twisting her waist and stepping to Enkrid's right side. Not only had she repositioned herself, but she had also grabbed hold of Enkrid's wrist and forearm with both hands.
Enkrid instinctively flexed his muscles to break free from her grip. At the same time, Finn coiled her leg around the inside of his calf.
From there, it became a battle to see who could seize the other's joints first.
Dodging, blocking, and grappling, they tumbled to the ground repeatedly.
There was a loud thud as their heads struck the ground at one point. Without either noticing, Finn's foot or hand sometimes landed in Enkrid's groin.
'The Ail Karaz style.'
Enkrid recognized the technique Finn was using. It was one of the many things Audin had thoroughly taught him about.
Ail Karaz was the name of one of the most infamous prisons across the continent. Long ago, a prison warden there had devised a technique to inflict excruciating pain on prisoners without leaving visible injuries. This grappling art, known as the Ail Karaz combat style, relied heavily on joint locks, earning it the nickname "King of the Dirt."
The name came from those who rolled on the dirt training grounds of Ail Karaz, claiming the title of king through this notorious skill.
Enkrid countered with grappling techniques from the Valah style, which Audin had taught him in what he mockingly called "bedroom battles."
However, Finn's proficiency was several times higher.
And so—
"Do you admit defeat?"
The moment he thought he had defended himself well, Finn had already trapped his neck between her legs. If she wanted, she could break his neck.
Being caught in this position, Enkrid could feel how incredibly firm her thigh muscles were.
"I surrender," Enkrid conceded, his neck still in her hold.
"If we fought with swords, who knows? But this is my specialty," Finn said, releasing him.
Both of them were covered in dirt after tumbling around so much. Dust clung to their hair, scattering whenever they moved.
"I need a wash. Want to join?" Finn asked.
"I'll pass," Enkrid replied without hesitation. The casual suggestion essentially meant bathing together, and he had no intention of agreeing.
"Tch," Finn clicked her tongue playfully, standing up and brushing off her pants.
"See you at dinner," she said before leaving.
After she was gone, Torres approached, grinning.
"If you two are going to roll around like that, why not just find a cave?"
"Huh?"
When Enkrid looked at him questioningly, Torres laughed even harder.
"You lasted the longest of anyone who's ever grappled with our captain."
A nearby squad member chimed in, "Yeah, she was really all over you."
Now that he thought about it, their bodies had been pressed together during the fight.
'I didn't have time to think about that.'
Still, one thing became clear.
'She's an excellent sparring partner.'
Not as good as Audin—Audin could keep him utterly helpless while offering endless commentary—but Finn was perfect for refining his Valah grappling skills in this current situation.
Of course, this didn't mean he would squander today.
As always, his focus remained on escaping this predicament.
Later, Enkrid practiced Torres's hidden knife techniques under a tree.
"You're still at it? I've taught plenty of people, and some just can't get it," Torres said, watching him with a serious expression.
"Is that so?" Enkrid replied calmly.
"Fine, suit yourself," Torres muttered, giving up quickly. After a few days with Enkrid, he had realized something—this man was stubborn to the core.
"When you suggested heading for the wall, why?" Torres asked.
"It seems like the better option."
"And your gut's been right so far?"
"Mostly."
In truth, it was through relentless repetition that he had achieved what seemed like instinctive decisions. Explaining it wouldn't make anyone understand.
"Alright, I'll trust you," Torres said with a nod.
The rest of the day was spent training, resting, and preparing. They cleaned themselves, took brief naps, and readied their gear.
By nightfall, Finn led them toward the wall. The path was treacherous, involving climbing rocky terrain under the dim light of two moons.
"Good thing we've got two moons tonight," Finn remarked.
"Is it, though? This route's brutal," Torres complained, drenched in sweat.
Finn chuckled, "Told you it'd be twice as hard as the other paths."
Eventually, they reached a vantage point where the Cross Guard's wall loomed before them.
"Luck's on our side," Finn said, smiling.
Torres glanced at her skeptically. "How is this lucky?"
"We didn't encounter any monsters or beasts along the way."
Finn's words, though reassuring, did little to ease the difficulty of the task ahead. Climbing over the wall promised to be even harder than crossing the rocky terrain.
"Let's go," Enkrid said, following Finn silently, fully aware that there was no turning back.