Chapter 201

“I, um, want to serve under you.”

On a breezy summer evening, in front of the barracks, the white-haired beastkin spoke.

“Serve under me?”

At the question, Dunbakel carefully chose her words.

At this point, what did it matter how it sounded?

“A slave is fine, a servant is fine. I’ll do anything, as long as I can be underneath you.”

If Frok had been blinded by personal achievement or desire, the beastkin had lost her mind over two words: reproduction.

So those words could easily be misunderstood.

“The continent is wide, you know.”

It was a roundabout way of saying that she wouldn’t stop Encrid if he chose to leave.

“As long as I can be underneath you.”

Dunbakel knelt. Her greasy, unkempt hair and crown came into view, along with a foul stench.

Seeing that, the first thought that came to Encrid was that he wanted to wash up and rest.

Then what should he do with this beastkin?

Honestly, it wasn’t something worth agonizing over.

If she came with the intent to stab him from behind—

‘Would that even be possible?’

More likely, Jaxson would slit her throat before then.

That’s just the feeling he got. A feeling.

In truth, it didn’t have to be Jaxson. It could be Rem or anyone else. If Dunbakel gave off even a hint of hostility, they’d beat her to death on the spot.

Fortunately, there was no sign of such ill intent. Sparing her was a whim.

There was no deeper meaning. Therefore—

‘If she doesn’t mean harm.’

Encrid thought of the fact that a squad had ten men.

A platoon usually had forty to fifty, a company was responsible for a hundred to two hundred.

‘But my squad members are—’

Rem, Ragna, Jaxson, Audin, Finn.

Including himself, that made six.

That’s far too many.

It was enough to make him question whether Marcus even had a conscience.

‘If you’re going to make me a company commander, at least give me more people.’

Of course, only a few would survive. Would Rem let them be?

Andrew came to mind. Since that guy, the only new recruit had been Finn.

In short, the company was short-staffed, and Dunbakel was stronger than the average soldier.

Judging by her attitude, she even seemed obedient.

An obedient beastkin was rare.

Among the many tangled thoughts, one point stood out clearly.

‘Lack of manpower.’

He’d ask the company commander for permission later. If he said no, they could just toss her out.

“Fine.”

“I swear to Crimhalt. Though, swearing while exiled… does that even count as faith… huh?”

“Come in. There’s an extra bed. But clean up first.”

To Dunbakel, it seemed like a bold decision. There was no sign of hesitation.

‘Was he planning to take me in from the start?’

That thought crossed her mind. But no, that couldn’t be. There were plenty of moments when it would’ve been fine to die. Moments when killing her would’ve made sense.

And yet, he didn’t kill her. He let her go.

A man who kept his word.

“You’ll need the commander’s permission to be officially added to the unit. If he refuses, there’s nothing I can do.”

‘It’s done.’

Dunbakel was certain the commander wouldn’t refuse.

If she were the commander and had someone like this under her command, even with ten attendants, she’d still nod without hesitation.

Who would say no?

“Don’t get any ideas about attending me at night or anything. I’m not interested. You’re coming in as a soldier. If you want to be underneath me, pick up a weapon and fight. If you die in battle, that’s that.”

Encrid stopped there and opened the barracks door.

Dunbakel stood frozen, hesitating.

She had wanted it, but taking action required courage.

She had longed for it, but accepting that it had come true required even more courage.

Was it really okay for her to step inside?

‘Someone like me?’

She had fully expected to be rejected. That’s why she hesitated. As she faltered, the barracks door swung open.

“Not coming in?”

Beyond the open door, blue eyes under black hair met his. That face, though male, was beautiful.

The moonlight flowing from those resolute blue eyes struck her cheek and shattered.

In front of a barracks that had no trace of romance, Dunbakel felt tears well up.

Why?

Who knew the reason.

It was just—no one had ever welcomed her before.

This was the first time someone had invited her in without ulterior motives.

“I’m coming.”

Her voice trembled.

Dunbakel stepped inside.

They say life brings opportunities and that turning points are necessary.

Dunbakel thought meeting that man was such a moment.

Even if others cast her out—

She would endure.

Even if everyone shunned and cursed her

She would bear it.

“I’m seriously asking this because I’m curious.”

Once inside, an orange-haired woman came into view. She was speaking to Encrid without pause.

“You like your nickname ‘Alluring Squad Captain,’ right? That’s why you bring a girl back every time you go out, isn’t it?”

Kyaaak!

A panther next to her even hissed.

Flinch!

Startled by the sound, Dunbakel flinched. Rem, standing nearby, spoke up.

“It’s fine, that panther doesn’t usually bite. Ah, just bites that bug-eyed bastard. So don’t mess with it and it won’t bite you.”

Why was there a panther in the barracks? Dunbakel wondered but stopped thinking about it.

Besides, the atmosphere wasn’t as hostile as she expected.

“Stop spouting nonsense and get her washed. She stinks.”

Encrid spoke and immediately began sorting through his belongings.

He seemed ready to wash up, grabbing a light linen outfit. During that, the orange-haired woman approached.

“You don’t have anything to change into, right? Think they’ll give you clothes if I ask at this hour? Should I say it’s for the captain?”

“Think that’ll work?”

“Then why wouldn’t it?!”

Finn said cheerfully and stepped outside. It seemed like it would be a bright moonlit night.

Walking out with Dunbakel, Finn asked:

“Name?”

“Dunbakel.”

“I’m Finn.”

She extended her hand for a handshake. In the ancient tongue, a handshake was said to signify that neither hand held a weapon and that they meant no harm.

These days, it could be interpreted as wanting to be friends.

As soon as she grabbed her hand, Finn grinned and said:

“But seriously, how long has it been since you last washed?”

“Hmm, half a year?”

Beastkin don’t enjoy bathing.

“Let’s walk with some space between us.”

Led by Finn, Dunbakel entered the bathhouse and soaked in the tub without complaint.

The water turned black, and from outside, Finn called out that she’d leave some clothes.

Dunbakel scrubbed her body thoroughly with soap.

Encrid clearly didn’t like bad smells.

After washing and changing, she returned to the barracks. The path wasn’t hard to follow.

Maybe because it had been so long since her last bath, her body felt light.

“…Is that what you looked like?”

As he stepped into the barracks, Encrid asked.

“Why? Do I look different?”

Dunbakel reflexively glanced down. A puffed chest making the shirt bulge and wide trousers.

Was it the clothes making her look different?

“Whatever. That side’s your spot. Sleep. And wear some damn underwear.”

Seriously? Was that necessary? Dunbakel thought so, but nodded.

Encrid gave a lazy wave and pointed. That was her spot now.

That was how Dunbakel became a member of the independent company. No one brought up the fact that the beastkin had been an enemy or a member of the Black Sword bandits.

Or rather, even if someone did bring it up, no one doubted or rejected her.

Why?

She herself didn’t know.

* * *

The air within the unit was cold as ever, but Encrid remained the same.

Wake up, train, watch Finn get beat up post-Isolation Technique.

“So that’s all the Aile Carraz Style has to offer, Sister?”

Audin, the Hellmouth, was as consistent as ever. A vein popped on Finn’s forehead.

After sweating buckets from morning drills, they chugged water and spread butter and orange marmalade over soft bread.

“Where’d you get this?”

Encrid took a bite and asked. The marmalade was exceptional.

Sweet and tangy.

Krys, chewing beside him, swallowed the bread and spoke.

“It’s a new shop across from the spiced jerky place. Run by a freckled woman with dull brown hair, age twenty-six. Name’s Jury. No boyfriend. Ideal type is between Captain Encrid and Ragna. Can’t stand guys like me.”

Why so detailed?

“I keep track of all key figures in the city. That’s the Gilpin Guild’s job.”

Is that so? But is someone good at making marmalade a key figure?

“It’s important. You’ve tasted it.”

Fair enough.

While they ate, Krys started chattering again.

“Stuff like this is going to keep happening.”

“Stuff like what?”

“People around us won’t just leave Border Guards alone.”

Encrid paused mid-rise and looked at Krys. His large eyes happened to glance toward Dunbakel.

Dunbakel sat blankly, staring at nothing.

She’d need to be assigned something soon.

Encrid turned back to Krys, who continued.

“By blocking off Azpen, the kingdom expanded its territory. That made the military city Border Guards both a garrison for standing troops and the central trade hub of northern Naurilia. It’s becoming that even now.”

Merchant caravans visited more often lately, and new goods never ceased. The population was also growing.

“Jury said marmalade needs to be made in bulk, and it spoils if it doesn’t sell. Fortunately, with more people passing through, it’s been selling well.”

That’s why she opened a marmalade shop.

Commercial viability is dictated by population and foot traffic.

That was something Encrid now knew thanks to Krys’ constant chatter.

“So how do you think others see Border Guards now?”

“Like a perfectly roasted barbecue or a ripened tomato.”

If you’ve got a knife in hand and you’re ready to eat—

Just a single slice away.

That’s the position Border Guards is in. Even if it’s a bit tough, it looks good enough to make someone want to sink their knife in.

To the hungry? They’d want to tear off flesh right away.

If the pioneer village Encrid had secured earlier grew and trade routes expanded, the situation might improve—

But for now—

‘The center of northern trade.’

According to Krys, that’s what Border Guards had become.

“Hence the never-ending pack of jackals circling us.”

“When did you start expecting this?”

“Well, it felt off the moment we pushed Azpen back.”

So he knew from then… meaning Marcus did too?

Came back playing coy, pretending to love the city—

The battalion commander knew of the city’s impending crisis.

Which meant he probably knew how to avoid it, too.

Soon, it was time for the meeting.

“Let’s go.”

“Let’s protect the spiced jerky and marmalade, Captain.”

Krys said from behind. It didn’t sound entirely crazy.

Those two foods did mean a lot to Encrid as well.

The battalion commander’s office had already turned into a war room.

A large map was spread out on the table, covered in chess-like markers.

“Have you confirmed the enemy’s numbers?”

“Scouts are being sent out hourly. So far, it looks like more than two battalions of infantry.”

“That’s a lot.”

Marcus said with a wry smile. He didn’t look afraid.

Clearly, he had something up his sleeve.

But should he be saying this now?

All the company commanders were present.

Encrid quietly stepped beside Marcus.

“Something to say?”

“My company doesn’t even have ten people.”

So what?

His eyes said it all. A battalion commander with no conscience.

You can’t be a company commander without enough company members.

“Can I add someone? One of the beastkin we caught earlier.”

Former affiliation: the Black Sword bandits.

He’d just sliced the head off a suspected spy from those very bandits, and now he wanted to bring one of them under his command?

Come to think of it, he should probably also report about that noble bandit whose head he lopped off.

“Do it.”

‘That’s it?’

Just like that?

“Talk to the quartermaster about the formal assignment.”

That really was it.

Marcus turned away like there was nothing more to say.

Encrid glanced around, expecting at least one company commander to object—but no one even cared.

Only the Elf Company Commander mouthed something.

‘Another woman again?’

It was a elf-style joke. He ignored it.

He watched the meeting for a moment—discussing enemy formations, potential battlefields, numbers, and their unit compositions.

“Martai might field cavalry. We don’t have any.”

Altogether, the Border Guards’ stables probably didn’t hold even fifty horses.

A few were reserved for urgent messengers.

But cavalry was another matter.

Most of the horses were pack animals.

There’s a saying: an untrained unit is like a blade turned on your own chest.

In other words, they might face mounted soldiers without having any cavalry themselves.

“Border Defense Commander has just returned.”

Right in the middle of the strategy meeting, the Border Defense Commander arrived.

What followed was all expected.

That the Black Sword main force had been ambushed.

But one unexpected detail slipped in.

The commander suddenly said:

“Good work. I heard some of the Black Sword bandits ambushed Baron Bansento in advance. Because the baron fled, the escort target was lost. Losing the escort isn’t a valid achievement, but the fact that you went on to slaughter part of the Black Sword’s guerrilla force and made it back alive is commendable.”

It was said in theatrical tones. Marcus slammed the table with a thud in response.

A few pins, used to distinguish enemy and ally, rattled and fell onto the map.

“Killing a noble—how dare they! Those Black Sword scum!”

Marcus displayed some excellent acting.

“I administered justice on the spot. Who knows what might’ve happened if I hadn’t followed them, just in case.”

The Border Defense Commander was a bit awkward.

Encrid watched it all without a smile.

And at the end—

“Some members of the unit attempted to flee, and we lost them. I request disciplinary action.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. He got them.”

Marcus gestured next to him—toward Encrid, to be exact.

“Ran into them on the way and caught them.”

That had happened. A bundle had arrived—some idiot from the retreating Black Sword main force.

“Is that true?”

A rare look of favor flashed in the commander’s eyes.

He had just said that failing to protect the escort wasn’t an achievement, but one look at the battalion commander and the Border Defense Commander made it clear:

‘This is a verified achievement.’

And it had been acknowledged by a powerful central battalion commander and the real authority in the Border Guards.

A few nobles’ faces turned pale.

They were quick on the uptake.

“For the sake of Baron Bansento, let’s all take a moment of silence.”

The battalion commander spoke. He wanted that Bansento bastard remembered as a noble, not as a bandit spy. He commemorated him as a subject of the kingdom.

It was best for everyone involved.

In other words—let’s all act accordingly?

It was a silent warning to the remaining noble bastards.

The smarter ones would get the message.

“Now, let’s return to the meeting.”

The exhausted Border Defense Commander, dust caked on his shoulder guards, stood and became just another figure around the war table.

The meeting resumed.

And Marcus’s strategy was riddled with holes.

Encrid had thought he had something up his sleeve—but all he could see were loose ends.

‘What is he even relying on?’

It was a sudden, lingering question.