Try cutting down a thousand on your own.
Encrid had not returned, and a night had passed.
At some point, the enemy troops began to retreat like a receding tide.
Ragna hadn't returned either, and Jaxon was also missing.
Krais realized that this situation was quite serious.
No, a sense of foreboding gnawed at his mind relentlessly.
"Where's the highest point nearby? A place where we can observe."
Still, he remained calm.
Perhaps before things went wrong, but now that they had, there was no room for panic.
Especially not with Encrid missing.
'If the Captain dies, I'll probably die too, right?'
What would happen if Encrid came back dead?
Rem would probably throw an axe without warning.
Of course, it was a half-joking thought.
'Not good.'
Even if they weren't dead, nothing good would come of it.
If the Captain disappeared, countless problems would arise.
If you asked him exactly what those problems were, he'd have to think for a while to come up with an answer, but the thought occurred naturally.
Ah, one thing was certain.
The Madmen Platoon would be finished.
Who could possibly control Rem, Ragna, Jaxon, and Audin?
No one.
In the past, they could've put up a scarecrow and gotten by, but as time passed, they too had changed.
Now, only the Captain could handle them.
If they were gone, could the Border Guard really fend off Aspen's attack, set to happen next spring?
Not a chance.
'In that case, I'd bail without looking back.'
Why would he stay here? He wasn't some kind of patriot.
While Krais stood in the shade of a tree, lost in thought, Nurat, who had been recalling the surrounding terrain based on maps and memory, spoke.
"Follow me."
Krais, shrouded in shade, gave off an eerie aura.
Nurat thought as much but said nothing.
It felt strange.
Was it because Encrid was missing?
The thought suddenly struck her.
It was a woman's intuition.
And it was correct.
Krais with Encrid and Krais without Encrid seemed like two different people.
"Hurry up."
Krais urged.
Nurat brought two horses, and they both rode off.
After passing a few nearby hills, they came across a rough path.
It was a road they had to climb while half-hanging on.
No lady would dislike a strong body and well-trained muscles.
It was only natural that an elegant lady would take an interest in physical beauty, and Krais never neglected his training.
Thanks to that, he climbed the steep mountain path with ease.
Nurat, being a trained warrior, ascended even more effortlessly.
Once they reached the top, Krais cast his gaze far into the distance.
"Those crazy bastards."
The morning sun illuminated the surroundings, and he could now see the enemy's formation.
They were hiding between the hills.
Should they chase after them?
Should they press the attack from behind?
'That would be a bad move.'
What if they followed and were counterattacked?
It was terrain too favorable for ambushes and surprise attacks.
No matter how high their morale was, and no matter how well they had done in the previous battle.
'We don't have overwhelming superiority in numbers yet.'
If they were caught off guard, the situation could be reversed in an instant.
No, from the start, they had aimed for pushing the enemy out.
That had been the goal from the beginning.
Winter was on their side.
'How do they plan to endure the cold? What about supplies?'
Why would Aspen be so greedy for Green Pearl?
Beyond the plains that Naurillia occupies lies a treacherous land.
It's filled with hills, valleys, steep mountains, and monsters lurking in the shadows.
Surviving through winter and maintaining supplies there is no easy task.
'At most, they can hold out for four or five days.'
That's the time the enemy can endure.
Which means this is a winning battle.
Now, all they really had to do was hide inside, shoot arrows, and hold their ground.
But there was one problem.
Encrid's absence.
'Could they have abandoned this entire battlefield just to capture the Captain?'
'Would they really give up the whole battlefield just to catch a few people?'
It was bold—too bold.
Using an elite few was meant to win battles.
But if you abandon the battlefield itself, what remains?
The future, of course. Securing it.
Could they have really gone that far?
This ominous thought provided an answer, but Krais wasn't sure.
It was just too daring of a move.
"One more day."
Krais decided to wait for the Captain.
To Nurat, his words sounded ominous, but there was no room for argument.
The man with the large, sorrowful eyes, who had lost his Captain, exuded an eerie strength.
* * *
Avnair waited a day.
There was no need to rush the attack.
He needed time to prepare as well.
The place where Encrid had been cornered was between three hills, with a valley and cliffside.
It was a place meticulously laid with traps.
All of this was an investment to kill just a few people.
'Are there any variables?'
The seeds had been planted in the ground, and the fruit had grown.
Now, it was time to harvest.
Though harvesting would require much blood, Avnair believed it was a worthwhile task.
Thus, failure was not an option.
Avnair pondered repeatedly.
He sipped tea with sugar.
Sugar helps keep the mind sharp.
What variables could arise from here?
There would be no mistakes until the very end.
No matter how skilled the enemy was, as long as they weren't Knights, there was no way they could escape.
He had prepared thoroughly for this.
After losing the previous battle, Avnair had thoroughly analyzed the Border Guard.
Did they lose the battle because the enemy played the 'Knight' card?
No.
Avnair reviewed the battle and found the answer.
They had already lost before the Knight even appeared.
He found the reason for the defeat.
He dissected the battle.
He examined the battlefield.
And from that, he learned names.
Encrid and the members of the Madmen Platoon.
The battles they fought on the outskirts, the skirmishes where they hit the supply lines—those were the actions that painted the picture of defeat.
And every time he heard of their exploits afterward, a chill ran down his spine.
His hairs stood on end.
Even within the city, they didn't live quietly.
Whenever Hurrier appeared, assassins were cut down, and nothing could stand before the name of Encrid without ending in failure.
They were like ghosts, uncatchable and untouchable.
That's why.
'I'll catch them.'
Avnair was a strategist who prepared thoroughly.
And so he did.
He played to his strengths.
He prepared, thought things through, and cornered his enemy.
The beginning was thieves and fanatics.
He had stumbled upon a good card by chance.
Of course, he used it.
'The Black Blade and the Cultists aren't pushovers either.'
There was no way the Border Guard wouldn't be affected.
Avnair deliberately avoided direct confrontation, waiting for them to splinter.
It would've been even better if the Black Blade or Cultists had killed a few of them, but such luck wasn't granted.
Still, they split.
Encrid left Rem, Audin, and Teresa behind.
'Only amateurs go after groups.'
Above all, Avnair's 'craft' had been embedded into this land.
For Encrid, he set up a trap called the Triangle Seal.
As for the remaining members of the Madmen Platoon, he sent blades worthy of their skill.
He even played the card of the Assassin Clan.
'With this.'
Kill them.
His mouth felt dry, so he took another sip of tea.
As he swallowed, his thoughts became clear.
The losses would be significant.
If things went as planned, the reward would be nothing more than a few heads.
On the surface, just the heads of a few elite soldiers.
But to Avnair, they were the heads of those who would become the greatest threat to Aspen in the future.
With his thoughts organized, the next step was action.
Thanks to the wide-open tent in front of him, sunlight and the winter breeze entered together.
The breeze wasn't too cold.
The weather was good today.
"Let's begin."
Avnair set down his teacup with a click and opened his mouth.
First up was the head of that man, Encrid.
* * *
Encrid didn't think this was a crisis.
This couldn't even be called danger.
There wasn't a blade at his throat at the moment.
Encrid was hiding among the bushes, focused on resting.
'Whatever I do, my body comes first.'
His stamina had reached the level of being called superhuman.
One night was enough to recover any lost strength.
Even if he couldn't return to perfect condition, he could recover enough.
His body had become that resilient now.
The Isolation Technique, thanks to Audin.
'Should I be grateful?'
It was a sudden thought.
Once he returned, perhaps he should at least thank Audin for it.
'But stamina is stamina.'
Separate from stamina recovery, his body still felt the strain.
He'd been swinging his sword all day long.
It would've been strange if his body didn't feel worn out.
The blood vessels in both his forearms had burst, leaving bruises.
He hadn't just swung his sword—he'd punched and kicked too.
He couldn't solely focus on attacking.
He'd been fighting alone amidst the enemy.
It wasn't as if he could block every attack coming his way either.
He had to rely on his Sense of Evasion, dodging and parrying only the most dangerous attacks, letting the rest hit his body.
To be exact, he deflected the attacks with his shoulder guards, gauntlets, and shin guards.
It was an insane thing to do, but thanks to the techniques he learned from Audin, for Encrid, it wasn't even that crazy.
'If I were a real Knight, this wouldn't be difficult at all.'
Reflecting on the battle in short musings, Encrid chewed on some jerky he'd brought and sought out a stream to quench his thirst.
The water was clear.
He drank without boiling it. If he ended up with a stomach ache, there must have been poison mixed in.
Hearing the sound of water from far off, he guessed a valley must be nearby.
'I'll rest for a day and leave tomorrow.'
Even if he lost his sense of direction, there was always a way out.
Just choose a random direction and keep moving straight.
Even if it's the wrong way, once his sense of direction returned, finding the way out wouldn't be difficult.
That's how Encrid thought.
'I wonder how the battlefield turned out.'
There was no time to look back or survey the battlefield.
This wasn't a fight where you could afford to reflect.
Encrid had done his best.
He had thrown himself into the battle and achieved this outcome by fully committing.
Though he didn't know it, the tide of victory had already turned from a single battle.
The end of this battlefield would be adorned with Naurillia's victory.
There was nothing to be done about those who had died in the meantime.
While Encrid wasn't aware of the exact state of the battlefield, he knew there was no need to fight any longer.
Aspen had become a deer torn apart by a beast.
Even though he didn't control or see the entire battlefield, he could feel the flow.
Encrid found a sturdy tree, laid down some fallen leaves beneath it, and closed his eyes.
He needed sleep.
Rest was essential.
When he woke, it was just before dawn.
His body, long trained, immediately went into combat readiness upon awakening.
Rustle.
He heard the sound of someone stepping on grass.
It was fortunate that he hadn't lit a fire.
If he had, it would have given away his position completely.
'This might actually be for the best.'
He could find the enemy, ask where they were, and make them guide him out.
Encrid held his breath and focused on the sound.
He sharpened his hearing.
At the same time, he slowly began loosening his muscles, starting with one finger.
He generated warmth in his body, which had stiffened from the cold, to prepare himself.
His ears located the enemy's position.
Crunch.
The sound came from the left at first.
Rustle, rustle.
Now it was from the right.
He could sense their presence.
They were that close.
Encrid, focusing on listening, cautiously poked his head out.
'What is this?'
This wasn't a small scouting unit. It was a large force.
They were sweeping through the bushes with their spearheads.
The sound of spears stabbing into the brush echoed continuously.
It wasn't just one or two sets of eyes searching for him.
Even with a quick glance around, the place was filled with enemy soldiers.
Counting them would be pointless.
It was inevitable he'd be spotted like this.
"There he is!"
His eyes met those of the enemy.
'They've got sharp eyes.'
Encrid thought as he stood up fully.
"Catch him!"
The enemy soldiers rushed toward him.
Fighting isn't always the best option.
Encrid withdrew.
He wasn't a fool.
Krais often praised his Captain's sharp mind, and it wasn't an exaggeration.
Encrid thought quickly.
It was better to use his feet to escape than to engage them directly.
Thud, thud, thud, thud!
Suddenly, a barrage of arrows rained down from one side.
'This is madness.'
If they keep firing arrows like that, they'll hit their own men.
Encrid raised his sword, deflecting the arrows he couldn't dodge, and quickly moved toward a large tree to use as cover.
Thwack!
A few arrows struck the tree.
"Ah!"
"Ugh!"
As expected, some of the arrows hit their own comrades.
Yet, the arrows didn't stop.
"Fire!"
"Keep firing!"
More arrows flew in.
Encrid glanced at the blade of his sword and swung it powerfully toward the tree.
It was a full-force horizontal slash.
Boom!
A loud explosion echoed.
When his sword struck the tree, half of it was nearly split in two.
At the same time, a crack ran down the blade.
The sword had been worn out after the previous battle.
Encrid then drew his gladius and aimed for the half-cut tree.
The Heart of Great Strength began to pound.
The muscles in his arms reacted, swelling as he swung the blade.
Though the gladius was blunt, it was solid, and it shattered the remaining part of the tree as if breaking it apart.
Crack!
Snap!
The tree tilted.
"Huh?"
The enemy soldier directly underneath it froze in panic.
Soon, with a crashing sound, the tree fell, breaking branches as it collapsed.
"Get out of the way!"
"This is insane!"
The enemy soldiers scattered in confusion.
Encrid took advantage of the chaos and sprinted.
He headed in what he guessed was the south.
He discarded the cracked sword and switched his gladius from his left waist to his right.
"Where do you think you're going!"
Blocking his path were heavily armored infantrymen.
They stood there, holding thick shields, blocking the way.
There were more than fifty of them.
As he considered dodging, more enemy soldiers swarmed in from both sides.
'Why are there so many?'
There are way too many.
Are others besides me also caught up in this?
Encrid stepped back.
If he charged in, he could probably kill most of them, but what then?
The reason Encrid had survived this long was because he never rushed into things recklessly.
He didn't walk paths where death was obvious.
He pulled back and ran again.
While running, he kicked a stone on the ground.
With a sharp 'snap', the stone flew into the air, and he struck it with the flat side of his gladius.
Thwack!
With a sharp noise, the stone flew faster than an arrow.
Thump!
The stone hit the head of a soldier just about to fire his crossbow.
'This is where I'll break through.'
A gap appeared where the crossbowmen had gathered.
Encrid dove into the enemy formation.
It was no different from a predator leaping into a herd of prey.
With the gladius in his right hand, he slashed and struck, while he used Ember to stab.
Ember wasn't suited for slashing anyway.
After cutting down five or six men, a path opened.
It looked like a trail artificially created between the bushes.
'Got it.'
Just as he thought he had escaped.
"Fire."
Bolts flew in from both sides.
It was a trap, using the crossbow unit as bait.
'Whoever planned this.'
It was a vicious trap.
Encrid rolled forward.
One bolt struck his armor.
Though it hadn't pierced his flesh, there was no time to pull it out.
Encrid kept running.
He dashed to the side, slashing down seven or eight more soldiers.
Then he jumped back and cut down another fifteen.
He repeated this cycle of slashing, stabbing, fighting, and fleeing.
The battle that had begun at sunrise continued until sunset.
No matter where he went, there was no escape.
It felt like being trapped in a labyrinth.
He even saw walls made of stacked stones.
When had those been prepared?
It was absurd.
There was no way to break through by force, not while dragging a horde of enemy soldiers behind him.
"Who are you people?"
Though he hadn't been seriously injured, his arms and legs trembled.
It was the result of constantly running and swinging his sword without rest.
Even the strongest person has their limits.
They say a Knight can slay a thousand men alone.
But what about a Junior-Knight?
A Junior-Knight can't kill a thousand by himself.
That's why he's a Junior-Knight.
As Encrid struggled and ran, Avnair muttered to himself.
"Try cutting down a thousand on your own. Then maybe you'll survive."
If not, then you will die.
The strategist of Aspen was certain of that.
* * *
Fwoosh!
Dozens of arrows.
After fighting relentlessly to the very end, running and battling, again and again...
Behind him, three swordsmen from the Hurrier family blocked his retreat.
In front of him, the path was obstructed by dozens of shield-bearing, heavily armored soldiers.
And then, dozens of arrows flew towards him.
There was no time to dodge—an arrow struck his stomach, another pierced his shoulder.
The bandages beneath his armor protected his stomach, but his shoulder took the hit poorly, leaving his left arm unable to rise.
His shoulder guard had been gone for a long time, and only one gauntlet remained on his right hand.
His boots were torn as well.
Cold wind bit through the cracks and tears in his armor.
He was in tatters.
Even so, Encrid killed two of the Hurrier family swordsmen with Ember, and severed the arm of the third.
The one who lost his arm glared at Encrid with bloodshot eyes.
"I thought this was over-preparation."
The man said.
Encrid didn't have time to respond.
"Kill him."
The final act was a hail of arrows.
No, in truth, one hundred and fifty arrows were fired.
One hundred and fifty longbowmen shot arrows at a single target.
Encrid gripped his swords in both hands and charged.
It was a desperate struggle.
"Where do you think you're going!"
The Hurrier family swordsman, who had lost an arm, threw himself at Encrid.
As Encrid split the man's head with his gladius, dozens of arrows struck his body.
Thwack!
Arrows pierced his thighs, his shoulders. The worst was the one that grazed his neck, tearing away a chunk of flesh.
His knees hit the ground first, and then he collapsed, head falling forward.
'What madness...'
Encrid finally realized it.
They had gone to all this trouble and preparation just to capture him.
It was insane.
He felt a flicker of irritation, just a little.
He had never died like this before.
As he closed his eyes, his body began to tremble.
He had lost too much blood, and his body could no longer regulate its temperature.
Death was approaching.
Darkness covered his vision.
He could feel the cold embrace of death, brought on by his dropping body temperature.
And so he died, and then he opened his eyes.
Splash.
The sound of a river, and in front of him, a ferryman.
He saw the purple glow of a lantern and the gently rocking boat.
"Did you enjoy it?"
The ferryman asked.
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