Chapter 47 - Squire or Apprentice Knight
The fairy company commander learned after the battle that the medium for the sorcery was the flag.
So, who destroyed that flag?
Tracing the battlefield situation backward led to the answer.
"That reckless squad leader."
That was why she was here.
It was something even the battalion commander hadn't paid much attention to.
He didn't seem to care who destroyed the medium for the sorcery.
He simply thought the foolish sorcerer had failed.
In truth, considering how many frauds existed among the continent's sorcerers, that assumption sounded reasonable.
Even so, the battalion commander likely didn't have the luxury to think straight.
A figure higher than his direct superior had come to the unit.
"What do you mean?"
She answered the implied question about whether it was him.
"Sorcery, flag, medium."
With just three short words, she conveyed everything she wanted to say.
Enkrid, for his part, hadn't been asked and thus hadn't denied it, but he also wasn't the type to insist on credit.
"Yes, I did it," he admitted.
"How?"
The short question came back.
"I picked up a spear and threw it."
"There were five decoys."
There had been six poles in total, but only one was real.
"I guessed."
"You knew the flagpole was the medium?"
"I observed some things during reconnaissance and had some prior knowledge of sorcery."
His answers were confident and without hesitation.
The fairy's sharp instincts confirmed he wasn't lying.
However, even without those instincts, it was evident he wasn't sharing everything.
It was as if he didn't mind admitting what he'd done but was reluctant to elaborate further.
The fairy company commander nodded as she studied Enkrid's blue eyes.
"Understood."
"Did you come here just to ask that?"
"Yes, and to see your face."
The commander paused briefly, gathering her thoughts before speaking again.
"It seems we are destined to be connected."
She left after saying those words, leaving behind a statement ripe for misunderstanding.
Enkrid was left stunned, and Rem jabbed him in the side.
"What's your secret?"
"What?"
"Tell me how you managed to charm a fairy. I'm all ears."
"Impressive," added Ragna.
"It's probably not what it looks like," Enkrid replied.
Even Big Eyes acknowledged Enkrid's looks.
Women occasionally took an interest in him when he was in the city, even without effort.
It went without saying that he wasn't inexperienced.
Enkrid wasn't naïve or clueless enough to mistake the signals exchanged between men and women.
But that conversation?
It wasn't about signals.
If anything, it left a sense of unease.
Especially considering she was the superior of his direct superior.
"When would he have even had the time—oh, I get it. Was it then? When he was in the medical tent? That's the only possible time!"
"No, you crazy bastard."
Rem continued to tease him for the next four hours, while Ragna eventually took a nap midway.
Later, Jaxen arrived, nodded meaninglessly, and somewhat eased Enkrid's mood.
When Big Eyes arrived, he started to say something but then leaned close to Enkrid after hearing what Rem had said.
"That's why I told you to quit rolling around on the battlefield and join me in opening a noblewomen's salon."
"No way, you lunatic."
Big Eyes' dream was to save up enough krona to open his own shop.
His vision?
A salon where charming men would chat with noblewomen.
His plan was clear: sell drinks and snacks at exorbitant prices, knowing the clientele would come anyway.
He'd once pitched this idea to Rem, nearly getting beaten for it, and rarely brought it up since.
Now, it resurfaced.
"Don't talk to me about it. I'll split your head with my axe."
Rem smiled menacingly from behind.
"Ah, fine. Forget it," Big Eyes replied, his voice near a whimper.
"Always acting like a barbarian at times like this," he muttered under his breath, lacking the courage to say it louder.
To his credit, muttering it at all was bold.
There was no way Rem hadn't heard it.
Rem glared, but Big Eyes quickly clapped his hands together.
"Oh, right! I almost forgot what I came here for. Got distracted by the squad leader talk."
Distracted, indeed.
He'd rushed to speak before Rem could retort.
Enkrid decided to let it slide, thinking that any story, as long as it wasn't about a love story between him and the company commander, would be better.
"He's coming."
"Who?"
"He's already arrived."
Big Eyes leaned in and whispered, his expression unusually serious, drawing Enkrid's attention.
"A knight's squire."
"...From the Crimson Cape Knights?"
Enkrid asked.
"Yes."
Currently, Enkrid and the others were part of the Cypress Division.
That was also the name of one of the knights of the Crimson Mantle Knight Order.
Typically, a military division bore the name of a knight who belonged to the knightly order.
And naturally, knights were rare talents even across the continent.
Thus, not all members of a knightly order were knights.
Some were those who aspired to be knights in the future: squires, both attendants and apprentices.
After their apprenticeship, if recognized by a knight, they became semi knights, officially joining the knightly order.
Squires usually didn't participate in battles independently.
The fact that one had come to the battlefield meant only one thing.
"They're about to become a semi knight."
What does it mean to be a knight?
A minstrel once said:
"Thinking of knights as the same as ordinary people is a grave misunderstanding.
Yes, that's right.
They've transcended human limitations, reaching beyond what is possible for most.
Otherwise, how could they stand against beings like Frogs?"
Knights were said to surpass human limits.
And junior knights?
They were individuals who approached those limits.
The squire that has come would soon become a junior knight and officially join the knightly order.
Enkrid was curious to see their skills.
Becoming a knight wasn't just about earning an honorary title.
In this era, knights were symbols of strength.
And a part of that symbol was here.
"You look like you'd die to see them."
Rem observed Enkrid's expression.
"Wouldn't you?"
"I heard they're already ready for deployment."
Big Eyes added.
"They came alone?" Rem asked, crossing his arms.
Big Eyes nodded.
"Yes, they said one was enough."
With that, Enkrid understood why their army hadn't withdrawn.
"If Aspen has prepared sorcery..."
Then their side was taking out their trump card.
Both Naurilia and Aspen had done the same.
Every year, the same dull skirmishes played out in this region, but now, a variable had been introduced.
'Is this a bid to seize part of the plains?'
If the sorcery had taken effect as intended, even the squire arriving on the battlefield would have been powerless to make a difference.
But that was no longer the case.
The spell had been thwarted, and now, victory was firmly in their grasp.
Had the squire arrived just a day or two earlier, the enemy would have been crushed outright.
'They were a little late.'
By now, the enemy had reorganized and regained their footing.
"Prepare for deployment! The entire army moves out at once!"
Enkrid's drifting thoughts were interrupted by the sounds outside.
It was the platoon leader's voice.
Moments later, the leader stuck his head into the tent.
"Hey, you heard that, didn't you? Of course, you did."
After spotting Krais, the platoon leader answered his own question.
"We're all moving out. The plan is to push the forward lines on Green Pearl Plain as close as possible to the enemy's position."
"Is it wise to discuss strategy so openly?"
Enkrid asked, looking at the platoon leader.
"There's nothing to hide. We're heading out now, aren't we? You coming?"
"I'd like to see how things unfold."
Enkrid struggled to his feet.
His injuries hadn't fully healed yet, and under normal circumstances, he shouldn't even be contemplating the battlefield.
"I'll stay by your side."
Krais raised a hand, volunteering.
He always made sure to stick to the rear and prioritize his own safety.
If Enkrid stayed with him, things should be manageable.
The platoon leader didn't particularly care for Enkrid, viewing him as more of a burden.
With his advanced age and the unruly squad he led, clashes were inevitable.
Even so, he couldn't stomach the thought of Enkrid dying.
Despite the ridicule he faced, Enkrid was relentless in honing his swordsmanship and never let a moment go to waste.
Watching someone like that become a corpse would leave a bitter taste.
"Take care of yourself."
The platoon leader muttered before stepping out.
"If you're curious, you might as well join."
Rem nodded.
Meanwhile, Ragna began preparing for deployment, gathering his gear methodically.
Jaxen fastened his sword and tucked a few throwing knives into his belt, an unusual sight since he rarely armed himself so thoroughly.
"I'll stay by your side," Jaxen said.
"By my side?"
Rem teased, but Jaxen shook his head.
"You stink. Sharing a barracks with you is bad enough."
While Rem excelled at lighthearted teasing, Jaxen had a knack for delivering sharp, stinging remarks.
"Platoon leader, I think I'd rather bash this guy's head in than fight Aspen's troops. What do you think?"
"Hold it. Let's just watch. Aren't you curious to see how well the squire fights?"
"They'll fight exceptionally well, no doubt."
Rem grabbed his axe, grumbling.
As Enkrid limped toward the deployment area, Vengeance approached.
"Are you out of your mind? Do you have a death wish?"
After the previous battle, when Enkrid had thanked him, Vengeance had grumbled, claiming he'd repaid a debt and that it was all behind them now.
When Enkrid asked what debt he was referring to, Vengeance had retorted, "The medical tent fire. Don't tell me you forgot."
"How could I forget?"
But Enkrid had, in fact, forgotten.
Repeating the same daily grind had dulled his memory.
Even so, it wasn't something he could entirely erase: the assassin, the fire, and Krang.
The fire had been Enkrid's doing, though Vengeance believed he'd saved him from the flames, when in truth, Enkrid had saved him from the assassin's blade.
'A debt is a debt.'
If it made things easier for Vengeance to think that way, so be it.
Thanks to that belief, Vengeance had charged to his rescue unhesitatingly.
Watching him glare at the enemy from the battlefield, Enkrid spoke up.
"Who wants to die?"
"Then why are you out here?"
"I wanted to see something."
"See what?"
"They say a squire has arrived."
"Oh, right. Don't push yourself. I'm not saving you twice."
With that, Vengeance returned to his formation.
"What's with him acting all buddy-buddy? Didn't he used to pick fights with you all the time?" Rem asked.
He had, once.
There was a time Vengeance couldn't stand Enkrid.
"He's not 'that guy.' He's the platoon leader. Turns out he's a decent person once you get to know him."
"Don't go soft on people. If you let your guard down and get stabbed in the back, it'll be too late to cry about it."
"Worry about yourself."
The formation quickly assembled and began marching.
It wasn't a clean, tight formation, but a loose, radial one.
At the vanguard, someone stood alone.
A crimson cloak fluttered in the wind.
The figure walked forward, their cloak billowing with each step.
Despite the unimpressive appearance, their gait hinted at something extraordinary.
"Hmm. Judging by their steps, they've got skill," Rem said, arms crossed, squinting at the figure.
"More than just skill. Their posture is perfect. Unless the enemy has a Frog on their side, this won't even be a contest," Ragna added.
Jaxen's gaze followed the figure in the crimson cloak, studying their movements.
Meanwhile, Krais muttered to Enkrid, "We should fall back now. If we don't, we'll get caught in it."
Krais seemed to sense the moment to retreat.
Suddenly, the crimson cloak flared, catching the wind.
The cloaked figure surged forward.
Enkrid blinked, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.
The figure's movements left afterimages.
How fast does one have to move to leave a trail like that?
"They must've infused their legs with Will," Ragna murmured.
Enkrid didn't fully grasp the meaning but didn't bother asking.
Now was a time for focus, not questions.
The enemy, startled, loosed a volley of arrows.
Unlike before, there were no crossbowmen stationed separately. Instead, a dense cloud of arrows darkened the sky.
At least a hundred archers must have fired in unison.
The arrow storm rained down on the cloaked figure.
The squire didn't swing their sword but accelerated instead.
Boom!
The ground exploded as dirt and debris flew, and the cloaked figure closed the distance to the enemy.
Simply outrunning the range of the arrows was a feat beyond human limits.
It was clear.
This was no ordinary movement.

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