It was an honor.
Encrid was half-dead from fending off the Knight's sword, but after two days of suffering, he was somewhat better.
His monstrous recovery abilities had proven their worth once again.
Of course, he wasn't in perfect condition.
'I can't seem to get any strength in my grip.'
Perhaps it was fortunate that his shoulder had dislocated right after blocking the sword.
If he had held out longer, the strain would have spread from his forearm to all the muscles in his arm.
His physical condition still wasn't great, but he couldn't afford to skip the gathering.
No, to say he couldn't rest might not be accurate. Rather, it was more correct to say he couldn't just sit idly by.
Those around him didn't leave him alone, anyway.
"Captain!"
From Helma to the soldiers he had become acquainted with, they all started visiting Encrid's tent one by one.
"How about a bite of eel?"
Even the soldier who had been cooking came by.
"You were magnificent."
A Commander from the scouting unit also made an appearance.
There were even a few soldiers who used to make snide remarks.
Some of them looked a bit awkward, but they eventually showed their faces.
"It was an honor to fight alongside you."
They all said in unison.
Encrid silently gazed at them.
The excitement they had when they entered disappeared as soon as Encrid didn't respond. All of them closed their mouths.
They couldn't even move their lips.
An awkward silence settled.
Cold winter wind slipped through the entrance of the tent, leaving a chilly sensation in the air.
Some of the soldiers felt their hair stand on end.
'Did I overdo it back then?'
'That seems to be the case.'
The soldiers began to look uneasy.
"Uh, Captain?"
Helma, unable to bear the tension, finally spoke.
Encrid looked at Helma without a hint of a smile.
There was no need to gather his thoughts.
It was something he always believed.
However, he wanted to look over their faces before he spoke.
He wanted his words to be more than just empty chatter, dissipating into the air. He wanted them to carry sincerity.
He'd learned this from Krang.
So, Encrid did exactly that.
He acted as he had been taught.
It brought a cold, biting wind to the atmosphere, but what was more important than that was conveying sincerity. Encrid firmly believed this.
"I do as well."
Encrid opened his mouth.
Hadn't he spoken of honor when he took the Knight's sword?
For Encrid, fighting alongside these men was a similar, if not greater, honor.
Why wouldn't it be?
They were men who had taken up spears to protect their families, their friends, and their lives.
Sure, some of them might have taken up arms for a few coins of Krona, but would that make any difference?
In the end, they all had to fight for the comrades standing beside them.
There was a reason comradeship existed as a concept.
They were all the same in that regard.
These were the men who risked their lives to scout enemy territory.
They became the eyes and hands of the army.
Without them, Encrid couldn't have fought as he did.
So how could this not be an honor?
For the same reason, there was no need to hide his respect for them. As his lips opened, he simply spoke the words that needed to be said.
"It was an honor."
He continued the words he had cut off earlier.
After a brief silence, one of the soldiers slapped his own head.
A crisp sound rang out.
"…Ah, damn, I'm an idiot."
The soldier who had hit himself muttered under his breath.
He was one of the soldiers who had been particularly critical of Encrid.
Helma saw this and burst into laughter.
The soldier then spoke to Helma with a solemn expression.
"Go ahead, the Captain would allow it!"
"What the hell are you talking about, you idiot?"
Helma grabbed the soldier by the neck and tucked him under her arm.
Even though he was choking, the soldier didn't ask to be released.
But was it really alright to call Encrid 'Captain' and not their actual Commander?
When asked if it was okay, the middle-aged man standing next to him, holding a bottle of wine, responded.
"It's fine. The Captain is the Captain!"
Upon further inquiry, this man turned out to be the Commander and leader of this unit.
And he was the first to speak such words.
But it didn't end there.
Nurat came over and asked:
"Is the Captain alright?"
He heard someone whispering to Krais, as if they had grown close.
Nurat was the personal guard and adjutant under Battalion Commander Garrett.
In other words, Encrid should have been referred to as Company Commander at best.
But she also called him 'Captain' without hesitation.
Listening to everything going on, Encrid more or less figured out the situation.
"Hey, Captain, tell us a story. I'm dying to know what you've been up to so far."
Even Garrett said things like that.
On the battlefield, he had charged alone into enemy lines, wielding his sword.
From the very first day, the battle had tipped in their favor because of that.
Although he had gone missing and various things had happened, what was the most shocking sight in the eyes of all the soldiers?
It was the sight of one man's back.
The sword wielded by that one man.
The force created by the man named Encrid.
"Captain's Sword!"
Thanks to someone who had seen him fight and given him a strange nickname, everyone started calling him "Captain".
The medic who treated his dislocated shoulder only contributed to the spread of an even stranger nickname.
"They've also started calling you 'The Sword of Endurance', you know?"
Krais, with his keen ears, had heard that and shared it with Encrid.
Considering it was a name given for enduring pain incredibly well, it was surprisingly dignified.
In reality, though, 'Mad Company Commander' was the nickname that circulated the most, but those sorts of names tend to fade quickly.
The victory celebration lasted for two days.
Encrid spent that time recovering from the wear and tear on his body, fully appreciating the importance of rest.
In other words, he ate, drank, and rested.
"Eel!"
"Trout!"
From various seafood to roasted piglet, and from wine to expensive whiskey, all kinds of treats were served.
"To the Captain's Sword!"
"Let's eat and die!"
Garrett turned out to be stronger with alcohol than expected.
Encrid had never lost when it came to drinking, but Garrett drank exceptionally well.
He downed three or four bottles of hard liquor by himself and still sang with a clear voice.
It wasn't the first time it had happened, and some of the soldiers joined in the singing with chants in between.
"Urah!"
The world calls us!
"Urah!"
They say we sell our swords for gold!
"Urah!"
So we sell our swords for gold!
"Urah!"
We are mercenaries!
"Urah!"
We sell our swords for gold!
"Urah!"
We stake our lives on loyalty, as mercenaries!
It was a song Encrid had heard before in his travels across the continent.
But it was the first time he'd heard it sung so smoothly.
Garrett's voice seemed naturally gifted.
If his swordsmanship were to be compared, it would be like a straight yet soft sword.
His voice burst out at the right moments and then softened again when needed.
Amid the chants of "Urah!" from the soldiers, Garrett finished his song and approached Encrid, who had been sitting quietly, and said,
"I've already written a song about you."
That comment made Encrid tilt his head in confusion.
A song? About me?
"I'll sing it for you later."
Garrett laughed heartily, patting his belly.
His appearance was likable, and his personality matched. He was genuinely a good person.
It was clear why Marcus had placed him in this position.
Come to think of it, Graham, the Lord of the Border Guard and their Battalion Commander, hadn't seemed concerned about betrayal either.
It was Krais who had been worried back then.
Now, it seemed clear how unnecessary those worries had been.
"Alright, I'll listen to it later."
After a few drinks, the victory, and all the lessons learned, he had received the Knight's sword and discussed honor.
Now, celebrating victory with those he could call comrades.
That, too, was enjoyable.
Some of the soldiers whispered among themselves as they observed him, remarking that even a man like him was still human.
Of course, he was human, not a monster.
"You guys don't know him well yet. The Captain will drink and party like this, but come tomorrow morning, he'll be training right away. I'll bet anything on it. He'll be out training at dawn again. The man's crazy!"
Krais, seemingly quite drunk, started talking loudly.
In the middle of his speech, he even slapped his thighs a couple of times.
It was a joke, but he bet his manhood on it.
"Really?"
"If you don't believe me, bet on it."
It was a natural flow.
Krais started collecting a few coins, mostly silver and copper, from some of the soldiers.
Encrid only listened to the first few words before dismissing it.
Krais's antics were predictable.
There was no need to pay close attention.
His eyes met Ragna's, who was drinking in one corner.
When Ragna gave him a small nod, Encrid raised his cup in acknowledgment.
'Thank you.'
It was meant for the ferryman, but in truth, it was a sentiment meant for everyone, including Ragna.
He had developed a technique known as 'The Crushing Sword'.
What if Ragna hadn't been there during that process?
He would have found a way, no matter what.
Encrid would have kept going.
But it was also true that Ragna's presence had shortened the time it took.
In fact, Encrid now realized that he needed that man.
If Ragna ever decided to leave, Encrid would probably ask if he was serious, at least once.
That's why he had told Jaxon, who had left for a brief errand, to come back as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
'Am I being selfish?'
To keep people around.
To keep them close.
Was that really the right thing to do?
'Am I just building a wall to hide my own inadequacies?'
It was an extension of the thoughts that had crossed his mind in his youth.
Of course, those thoughts were now irrelevant.
Inadequate abilities, huh?
Encrid clenched and then opened his fist.
The pain was decreasing in real-time.
It was thanks to his regeneration, based on the Isolation Technique, that his body was healing.
His body had changed.
The way he wielded his sword had changed.
Though his mindset hadn't significantly shifted from the past, something within him had clearly transformed.
'No.'
They weren't walls, they were friends.
Comrades.
Sometimes mentors, sometimes fellow soldiers fighting alongside him.
He would ask them when the time came.
If they stood at a crucial crossroads, he would definitely ask them.
Or rather, he would tell them.
That they could leave if they wanted to.
For example, if the path ahead was as certain as death, like this time?
'I will use today.'
It was a mindset that even curses could be utilized.
Instead of a passive approach, it was now an active one.
But that didn't mean his determination to survive the day had changed.
If he couldn't influence even this day, he would let them leave.
That was the right path.
Encrid didn't overthink it.
There was no agony.
He simply made a decision.
"Let's eat and die!"
Helma, shirtless except for something covering her chest, shouted from one side.
Wasn't she cold?
Her abs were visible.
As were the scars on her body.
"You're my woman!"
One soldier, trying to act bold, was promptly punched in the head and stomach. He rolled over to the side and started vomiting his guts out.
Yeah, sure, she's really your woman.
Encrid let out a small laugh.
For today, he pushed aside any unnecessary thoughts.
He focused on resting.
"As much as your body needs rest, so does your mind, brother."
Hadn't Audin said that?
Even thoughts were forgotten.
For just a single day, he didn't think about anything.
He was simply present in reality.
He spent the day in the never-stopping flow of time.
Since 'today' wouldn't come back, there was nothing more valuable.
Encrid smiled, ate, and drank.
"Cook, cook for us!"
A soldier, who was a good cook, approached and mumbled something, and Encrid replied.
"Why are you telling me that?"
"Come buy it from me."
This guy had a knack for business.
Maybe not on Krais's level, but not bad.
"Alright."
"It would be an honor."
Two soldiers who had been watching from the side suddenly chimed in.
"I as well."
"It's an honor."
Were they trying to mimic him?
Clearly, they were too drunk and out of their minds.
Encrid laughed and smacked both of their heads.
"Ouch!"
The two soldiers laughed as they were hit.
A poor attempt at imitation.
The next morning, despite only having slept for two hours, Encrid continued his training.
He wasn't pushing himself too hard, just warming up his body and generating some heat, but a few soldiers who woke up half-dead from hangovers rubbed their eyes as they watched him.
'He drank, ate, and partied like that yesterday, and now he's up at dawn training? Is this even real?'
What could they do? Encrid's body had become more comfortable training than not.
Naturally, Krais made a few coins off his bet.
After three days of rest, Encrid had recovered enough.
It was time to leave.
Since he still couldn't walk properly, Garrett provided a carriage for him.
Just before he left, Garrett approached Encrid.
"Company Commander Encrid."
"Do you have something to say?"
Was he going to pester him again to tell stories about his battles and experiences, as he had done before?
It wasn't a difficult task, but being stared at with such sparkling eyes by a middle-aged man right in front of him was a bit much.
He had even mentioned writing a song about him, though Encrid hadn't heard it yet.
"How about becoming the Battalion Commander of the Green Pearl?"
Garrett offered.
He leaned against the carriage and yawned as he spoke, completely relaxed.
There wasn't a hint of tension.
Encrid had received similar offers before, and to be honest, even better ones, which he had declined.
Like becoming the Battalion Commander of the Border Guard, or even a Lord.
"No, I'm not interested."
He rejected it immediately, causing Garrett to chuckle.
"I figured you'd say that."
"Then why did you ask?"
"I'm retiring."
"And why is that relevant?"
"Because my successor will probably have a hard time."
When Encrid gave him a questioning look, Garrett continued.
"Being in this position, you get a lot of pressure from the Central Government. Right now, it seems like Lord Marcus is blocking some of it, but who knows how long that will last. Plus, the way things are going, it's not much better than a dog's life, is it?"
At first, Encrid didn't understand what he meant.
"You're saying a civil war might break out?"
Krais interrupted from behind.
It was another one of those conversations only the two of them understood, but Encrid got the gist of it.
Defeating the external threat from Aspen had been good, but in some ways, it might have set off a chain of events leading to something worse.
Of course, it wasn't an immediate concern.
Encrid wasn't worried about it either.
At least not for now.
'The Knight's sword.'
He was too busy digesting what he had internalized.
In other words, he sat in the carriage and drifted into a light sleep as they headed back to the Border Guard.
Since their Captain didn't seem too concerned, Krais wasn't either.
He didn't believe anything would happen immediately.
When they arrived at the Border Guard, the first familiar faces they saw greeted them.
"You're back?"
"The Wandering Teresa welcomes the Captain."
"Brother, was your journey peaceful?"
Encrid realized he was truly back.
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