Chapter 123 - Was Your Mother a Ghoul?
What the hell is this?
The battlefield was a gravel-strewn plain, the river on the left and mountains and forests on the right, as the two armies faced each other.
They were within arrow range.
Some archers on both sides were already hesitating, watching for the right moment.
Tense silence hovered in the air, as if the next moment would see men lunging through the rain of arrows, spears piercing throats, swords slashing, or maces crushing helmets along with skulls.
But the first move... What was this?
A taunt?
"Hey, shame you're gonna die before you even get to use your junk!"
Three men stepped forward, shouting.
Their voices were loud, clear, and crisp.
The distance had to be over three hundred paces, yet their insults landed squarely in the ears of everyone present.
That's how loud they were.
At first, it seemed like a pointless provocation.
Would this actually work?
It did.
Morale was already at rock bottom.
And now, they had to just stand there and take this?
zIt was unbearable.
But if they shot arrows and charged recklessly?
With no overwhelming numbers on either side, starting a fight with low morale meant they'd already lost before it began.
So…
Watching is the right move, but…
Would simply waiting change anything?
Either some brilliant tactic had to be employed, or an elite strike force needed to shake things up.
Even without deep strategic insight, it was clear that something had to be done immediately.
Still, Enkrid remained more composed than the others.
At least, he didn't think he'd die here.
Whether he walked away with minor wounds or not.
Whether his squad mates were at his side or not.
It was just a gut feeling.
And in a way, that meant he had improved significantly.
In the past, at a moment like this, he'd be scrambling, thinking of every possible way to survive.
Now, he was analyzing the battlefield instead.
Have I gotten too comfortable?
The thought felt absurd.
At the very least, this wasn't something Enkrid needed to be worrying about right now.
If he were leading a unit, if the lives of subordinates were at stake, then these concerns would be natural.
But as things stood, he wasn't even sure he was really leading this so-called "Madmen Platoon."
They followed him on their own.
So, for now, it was best to focus on what was urgent.
"Andrew, don't get riled up."
Enkrid raised a hand, pressing against Andrew's chest to stop him.
"Huh?"
"There's nothing wrong with being a virgin."
With those words, he tried to soothe Andrew's wounded pride.
He remembered how Andrew had reacted before—when they met during a reconnaissance mission, and Enkrid had taunted him with the very same words.
Now, the enemy was using them against him.
Andrew needed to keep his cool.
"…Feels like you're messing with me."
Andrew muttered, his shoulders slumping.
"No, you're mistaken." Enkrid reassured him once more.
"Hold it in for now. There will be a time to unleash your rage."
Their new battalion commander was someone named Marcus.
Unless a regimental commander or a knightly figure intervened, the command of the troops would remain with him.
Unless Marcus was a complete fool, he wouldn't just sit back and take this.
"Save up all your anger for the fight."
"I'm not even mad. I don't even think that was aimed at me."
"I'm telling you, hold it in."
Enkrid spoke firmly, as if to pacify Andrew.
He even went as far as to pat his shoulder and push him back slightly.
Andrew, lacking the energy to resist, stepped back.
"Hmph."
Nearby, Enri cleared his throat.
Mac looked at him with an awkward expression.
As for the rest of the madmen—
"Pfft."
Rem was the first to snicker.
Even Jaxen, usually expressionless, glanced at Andrew with a faint smile.
"Brother, it's alright. Submit yourself to the divine."
Audin outright suggested that Andrew join a monastery.
Ragna, after a quick glance at Andrew, gave him a firm nod.
"It's fine. You'll have your chance."
…Chance for what?
No, it wasn't like he couldn't do it.
It was just that he hadn't—!
"Why are you all doing this to me?"
Andrew genuinely didn't care.
He had even forgotten Enkrid's taunt from before.
If no one had brought it up now, it might have remained buried forever.
What mattered to him was honing his sword.
Reviving his family name.
Anything else was a luxury.
So why were they teasing him about this?
"It's fine, man."
Rem punched Andrew's shoulder lightly.
Andrew felt wronged.
Frustration that wasn't there before suddenly surged up.
Naturally, that anger was redirected toward the battlefield.
If he lost his temper here, he wouldn't live to see tomorrow's sunrise.
His instincts chose a new target for his fury.
Those damn ghoulish bastards.
The enemy soldiers who had shouted about "junk."
He wanted to rip their mouths apart.
The insults kept flying back and forth.
A few of their own soldiers stepped forward to respond, but somehow, it felt like they were losing this exchange.
A battle of words.
It felt ridiculous, but the enemy's intent was obvious.
They were trying to grind morale down to nothing.
And judging by the way the atmosphere was turning sour, it was working.
However…
Around Enkrid, the mood was surprisingly warm.
On a battlefield-wide scale, it was an insignificant shift.
But—
"Well, uh, when we get back to the city, I'll introduce you to a good salon."
"Don't lose your first time in a brothel."
"First time should be with someone experienced. I know an aunt of mine—interested?"
Nearby soldiers started cracking lewd jokes.
"…Shut up?"
Andrew snapped, glaring around.
But thanks to his sacrifice, their side's morale had taken a turn for the better.
The best way to deal with an enemy's insults was to ignore them.
"You have a knack for this."
It was Krais, recognizing Enkrid's intent.
A shift in morale was needed.
Every big change started with something small.
Krais found himself wondering what he would do if he were in command.
Normally, he'd be safe in the rear, waiting for the battle to end.
But now, standing here on the battlefield, he was beginning to think about what was needed to win.
And the first step?
Changing the mood.
That was what Enkrid had just done.
"A knack? I was just genuinely worried about him. There was an order not to engage first, after all."
It was clearly a joke.
Had he planned this from the start?
No, probably not.
It seemed more instinctual, something he did naturally.
What a peculiar guy.
That was part of Enkrid's charm.
Even while fighting for survival, he never forgot how to joke.
He never allowed the atmosphere to grow too bleak.
Andrew, though his face was now red from all the teasing, had unwittingly helped lift morale.
At least among the Madmen, the air had shifted.
What now?
Might as well just fight already.
That was the feeling settling in.
After all, this was a squad of lunatics.
As if reading the room, Rem spoke up.
"So, how long are we gonna sit around watching?"
It would be easier to just start fighting.
Both armies were holding tension like a bowstring drawn taut, yet neither had loosed the first arrow.
Some men, frayed by nerves, had even started vomiting from the pressure.
It's no wonder.
This atmosphere has been going on for days now.
Even Rem and the others are starting to get annoyed.
The only good thing is that the three new recruits—Andrew, Mac, and Enri—are in good spirits.
They've been on duty together.
They've gotten closer by sticking together against Rem and the other squad members' bullying.
Because of that, they didn't get swept up in the overwhelming sense of defeat that had taken over the rest of the troops.
It's been exhausting with the work and the constant struggles; who has the time for anything else?
"Care to say something?"
Krais suddenly spoke up.
The stance of the army was clear.
They were waiting for the enemy's attack.
Krais took advantage of this and made a suggestion to Enkrid.
Everyone in the squad, including the sharp-tongued Rem, recognized Enkrid.
His words and ideas could turn the enemy inside out.
"I don't have much to say."
Regardless of how good his speech skills were, what could he say in this atmosphere?
Enkrid was sincere.
But Krais made the offer again.
"Just to change the mood."
Well, why not?
It didn't seem like such a hard thing to do.
The enemy and the allies were fighting not with swords or spears, but with words.
Enkrid moved subtly.
His independent platoon didn't have a fixed position.
As they moved, a path naturally opened up.
Some familiar soldiers asked where they were going.
Enkrid answered in a flat tone.
"I'm just adding my two cents."
At that point, he hadn't really planned anything.
The enemy had been too busy shouting about things like 'What can those queen's playthings do?' to think straight.
But there, at the front, was Vengeance.
"You're at the front right after returning from the rear?"
"Our unit is the one in the best shape."
It looked like they had swapped their mixed archers for a full spearmen squad.
So, this must be the 2nd Company, 3rd platoon, and Enkrid had positioned himself at the front of the 2nd Company.
He looked at Vengeance, then at the distant enemy soldiers.
He knew what he had to say.
Enkrid stepped forward, taking a few more steps.
Rem, Ragna, Jaxen and Audin followed closely behind.
They were stepping into a range where even a hedgehog might end up if the enemy fired, but Enkrid didn't hesitate.
If they were going to fight with words.
If the problem was the morale.
Why not show some boldness?
"Hey, you! Come out!"
He shouted, a provocation aimed at the enemy.
"We're out here, what are you going to do about it?"
It was a bold question.
How had the battles been until now?
After a verbal clash, lower-ranked soldiers challenged each other to duels.
Hadn't it been said that the fight was won by non-commanders who asserted their dominance?
Well, this could be just like that.
'I'll do it.'
Krais followed, but only said a few words, and they seemed reasonable to Enkrid.
"You think you can take out about five in a row? That should work."
The point was clear.
If Enkrid took part in a soldier's duel, even if a commander stepped in, he would just ignore it and crush them.
'Overwhelmingly.'
He was being told to kill and keep killing to demonstrate the difference in skill.
He was supposed to make the commander step in and crush them.
Krais's big eyes seemed to have a plan.
It was all about boosting morale and pulling off some clever tricks.
Enkrid trusted Krais's head and his plan, so he stepped into the battlefield.
With a provocation, he advanced.
The allies murmured.
"What's going on?"
"Ah, it's the crazy squad leader."
"Enkrid?"
"The Spellbreaker?"
"They say he is no longer just a squad leader"
Those who knew him recognized his face.
He had recently proven his strength, so no one questioned his abilities.
The whole army had to feel something odd.
Even Vengeance seemed to sense something was about to happen.
Why?
No one knew.
The atmosphere of the battlefield was as sharp as a blade.
Until now, it had seemed like that blade was pointed at the allies.
But now, it felt like the wind was shifting.
Krais thought his plan was working.
'Then, we'll figure something out.'
He had an idea of what the allied commanders might be waiting for.
He had heard rumors of Marcus, and he could guess his fighting style.
They were likely preparing something.
Krais decided to help get things started.
If he had made a wrong guess, he'd just quietly back off.
Anyway, the risk was minimal, and he was thinking of taking the opportunity for gain.
As Enkrid stepped forward and the atmosphere shifted, one of the enemy soldiers who had been talking stepped out.
"Here he comes, this bastard."
Enkrid didn't think there was anything to mock about the soldier, but as he stepped out, he passed by Vengeance.
Why had Vengeance hated him?
In the end, wasn't it because of his face?
"What's with you? Why were you born with a ghoul's head?"
A casual remark, drifting through the wind, echoed softly.
It reached the ears of both the allies and the enemies.
It wasn't much, but from a distance, they could vaguely make out the faces.
The enemy soldier's face—ghoul's head—was a comment on his appearance.
Seeing Enkrid across the battlefield....
'What the hell?'
He was good-looking.
It was the kind of face that would make anyone angry for no reason.
"What?"
"Was your mother a ghoul?"
Enkrid wondered if the enemy soldier's mother could have been some other species.
It seemed a fair enough suspicion, and he pointed at the enemy's face with his finger.
"What the hell, you bastard?"
The enemy soldier immediately burst out in anger.
A miracle was made with just two words.
Audin couldn't help but admire it.
'Even the gods would lose in a contest of words with the brother leader.'
Rem let out a laugh.
What about the others?
Andrew, who had stubbornly followed even though Mac told him not to, finally showed a bright smile.
Yeah, what was he thinking, talking shit with a face like that?
His nose was so large it seemed like it could catch rainwater through his nostrils.
Why were his eyes like that?
If you didn't look closely, you couldn't even tell the color of his pupils.
His face was full of blemishes.
It was easy to mistake him for a ghoul.
"Hahaha!"
Andrew burst out laughing so innocently.
"Let's see if your sword's as sharp as your tongue."
The enemy soldier took the bait.
It started with words, but would lead to spears and swords, and finally, blood.