Chapter 281

“Big Eyes.”

Encrid called out to Krys, who was mumbling to himself.

Blink.

The guy blinked as he looked back at him.

Why was he being eaten away by anxiety?

Because he’d been beaten down his whole life. A single misstep meant death, or at the very least a wound close to it.

‘Heard there were even bastards who’d go for his ass if things went wrong.’

Scratch—Encrid rubbed his cheek.

The world doesn’t accept the untainted.

The pure are bound to be stained.

Spill ink on a white canvas, and it can’t be erased. Krys was no different.

To avoid the worst, he always imagined the worst.

And when he imagined the worst, his head stopped working the moment he was cornered. He couldn’t think straight.

Even the first time he stood dazed on the battlefield, about to die, it was the same.

Encrid knew because he’d seen it. This bastard’s head was broken again.

Of course, it was all just guesswork, but if he was wrong, so what? And if he was right, convincing him would be easy.

“Shut it. If there’s a fight, then fight. If you die, then you die.”

Dunbakel spoke up beside them. Her words and tone were blunt.

It must have rubbed him the wrong way. She’d made it sound like they were all about to die right then and there.

Well, that could happen too.

On the battlefield, getting killed by a stray blade was nothing unusual.

Encrid knew that too.

You could die, but you might not.

Nothing ever went exactly as you wanted. You just tried to bend things as close to your will as possible.

And for that, Big Eyes was necessary.

To be exact, he needed a Big Eyes who wasn’t broken.

“That kid’s bewitched. Slap him across the face, wake him up.”

Rem, curled up on his cot like a caterpillar, spoke from the side.

Winter always turned the barbarian into a caterpillar. It was the same sight every year.

It was a reasonable suggestion, but violence wasn’t needed.

They’d already tried that.

Even on the battlefield, slapping him across the face hadn’t snapped him out of it.

Beside them, Audin folded his hands together.

“Pray. If you pray, all things are possible.”

Of course, prayer wouldn’t solve this either.

Even holy power couldn’t fix Krys’s state right now.

Fortunately, Encrid knew a method, and he put it into action.

His lips parted.

“Hey, if things go south, let’s just run for it together.”

“……What?”

Krys stopped blinking and stared at him in disbelief. His trembling legs froze.

“If it all goes to hell, pulling you out and running is nothing, not to mention Rem and the rest. Do you really think the others are gonna die here?”

What he needed wasn’t fear, but reassurance.

The hand that had been hovering near his mouth, ready to chew at his nails, dropped down.

Krys turned his head.

His eyes circled from Rem to Ragna, Jaxson, and Audin.

No matter how he looked at it, none of them seemed likely to die.

And Teresa?

Would a half-blooded giant, who still wore her iron mask even inside the barracks and muttered that she was a wanderer, die so easily?

And lastly Dunbakel—well, she might die.

“One beastkin dying has nothing to do with you.”

Encrid’s words slipped in at just the right moment. The head that had been spiraling into worst-case scenarios began to return to normal.

His vision cleared. The fog that clouded his sight lifted.

His trembling legs steadied. His fidgeting hands stilled. His blinking eyes began to shine again as usual.

His wavering pupils returned to their place, focus locking in. At the same time, the brownish eyes curved gently.

“Ah, that’s true. Still, hang in there, Dunbakel. If you don’t want to die, you’ve gotta hang in there.”

He spoke with a smile.

“Should I kill you first?”

Dunbakel casually popped out her claws.

“Rem, the beastkin’s bullying me.”

“So what.”

Krys was back to normal. Big Eyes Krys was already nagging Rem about how he could treat him like that, then ducked behind Encrid when the caterpillar twitched as if to rise.

“Captain, aren’t you going to the war council? Captain Graham’s head must be about to explode.”

“Yeah, I should.”

“Let’s go together.”

“Sure.”

Leaving Krys behind would probably mean a nice claw mark etched across his face.

Encrid tugged him along and left.

Of the ones remaining, Audin chuckled first and spoke.

“The Independent Platoon captain is truly a remarkable man.”

When was it he realized that prayer alone wouldn’t resolve everything?

Not when he was serving as an inquisitor.

The beginning of it all had been here, in the barracks, on the battlefield. And it had started with a single man.

A man who never backed down, but still knew how to look around at those beside him.

His sword wasn’t wielded solely for himself.

‘What is a knight?’

What is a priest? What is a servant of God?

The sudden epiphany led Audin into deep reflection.

Among the soldiers here, none were brooding over the battles or wars to come.

If someone came at them, they’d fight. Simple as that.

Most of them thought in that straightforward way.

So Rem sank deeper into his caterpillar hibernation.

Ragna unsheathed his sword again.

He looked like he couldn’t resist swinging it right now.

It wasn’t that he’d seen his captain training like a madman.

It was just that he’d watched him calm Krys down with a few words and lead him away.

That was all. And yet something stirred inside. A feeling that couldn’t be put into words tickled his chest.

Each sank into their own thoughts.

Teresa felt the urge to fight boiling anew.

‘I want to fight.’

Right now, it didn’t even have to be Encrid. The giant’s blood in her veins was calling her to the battlefield, every change in the air prickling her skin.

“Whatever.”

Dunbakel still looked thoughtless, but somehow it seemed fine this time.

Jaxson was as expressionless as ever.

Of course, inwardly he agreed with Audin.

‘A remarkable man.’

Esther had slipped into the barracks at some point and lay in the corner, watching it all.

Of everyone there, she was the most astonished by Encrid’s mystery.

With a single phrase, he’d restored a man’s mind.

If that wasn’t a spell, then what else could be called a spell?

Kyar.

Esther licked her paw. It was a habit she had whenever she shifted into panther form. She stretched out her foreleg and lay down, the warmth of her fur pleasantly heating her body.

—

The change in the air of the domain was felt by every soldier.

No, by the whole garrison.

Still, nothing changed in action. Anyone who was going to desert had already fled.

Entering the war council, it was obvious.

“Looks like there are some empty seats.”

Captain Graham had reorganized the Heavy Infantry Company into the Independent Platoon under his direct command.

He appointed Palto as Captain of the 1st Company, and the 2nd and 3rd Companies also had their captains.

That left Benzense as the new 3rd Company Captain.

They’d recruited enough recently to afford such reassignments.

Even enough to spin off the Heavy Infantry Company’s core into an Independent Platoon.

So when newly appointed Company Captain Benzense walked in, the first words out of his mouth were:

“Looks like half the people from the last meeting are gone.”

“They ran.”

“What?”

“Took their wealth and slipped away in the night.”

The reply came from Palto, who was currently responsible for security in the domain.

“And you just let them?”

Benzense pressed. Shouldn’t they have been killed and crushed? Nobles who abandoned the domain in its time of crisis—how could they be left alive?

Revenge must be paid tenfold. That was Benzense’s creed.

Palto’s eyes narrowed.

Was this man questioning the job he was doing?

The air was already heavy with tension. The smallest spark could ignite the whole room.

Then a bright voice rang out.

“You’ve got to let them go.”

It came from behind Encrid. All eyes turned to Krys. He thought there was no reason to waste time on pointless arguments or chatter.

‘Captain said he’d save me if it all went wrong.’

So there was no way he was dying here. At least, his safety was guaranteed.

Even if not the captain, he had other escape plans lined up.

It was only because he’d been assuming the absolute worst that he’d let his anxiety spiral.

‘Pretty ridiculous thoughts in hindsight.’

Like imagining dozens of wolf-beasts waiting at the escape tunnel. Or assassins from the Black Blade Bandits sent to kill him there.

‘Yeah, it was nonsense.’

But back then, the foreboding had rattled his skull. Now? He was fine.

Thanks to that, his mind was sharp.

“Do you really think those three will work together?”

“What?”

In the middle of the deserter talk, he suddenly stabbed at the real issue.

Then smoothly rolled the conversation back on track. Encrid thought Krys had a unique way with words.

“If someone weakens our unity, then it’s better to get rid of them early. Captain Markus wanted them gone anyway. Didn’t you know?”

Benzense didn’t. He wasn’t exactly the sharpest. He was persistent and loyal, sure, but clever? No.

“That’s true.”

Graham nodded. He looked like he hadn’t slept for days, dark circles under his eyes. His gaze lingered on Krys.

“You’re with the Independent Platoon, aren’t you?”

“Krys.”

Encrid’s Independent Platoon was famous in many ways, but what stood out most was its strength.

And overshadowed by that, Krys was a face only a few recognized.

Graham knew him, but that was it. Yet what had he just said? Graham’s interest sharpened.

Krys spoke calmly.

“Azpen won’t move right away. Breaking through all the palisades at Green Pearl that they’ve been building up until now would cost them too much.”

“But the captain stationed at Green Pearl is calling for reinforcements, says the danger is imminent.”

Krys naturally stepped forward beside Encrid.

With Markus gone, the situation was very, very, very bad.

To avoid the absolute worst, Krys had to do his part too.

That’s what this meeting was for.

At the very least, he needed to know what the command was thinking.

‘Or maybe, that they weren’t thinking at all.’

In truth, Graham had done his best.

He’d gathered the troops, kept morale steady, stamped out rumors, increased patrols, and sent out scouts.

If any soldier in charge of security spread gossip, he beat them bloody with a club on the spot.

Not just that—squads of hastily assembled troops were already observing the surroundings.

Other than that, all they could do was wait.

“Of course the Green Pearl commander would say that, with Azpen right in front of him. But this side is more urgent. And, well, I don’t think those three are on good terms.”

Before long, the meeting was circling around Krys’s words.

Encrid pulled up a chair and sat beside Benzense.

“Who’s that kid?”

Benzense asked. Encrid, arms crossed, replied.

“Krys.”

“Wasn’t he just some peddler?”

From Benzense’s perspective, he’d been just a soldier making pocket change off black market deals.

“Yeah.”

Benzense frowned, glaring at him.

Fine, then. Let’s hear what he has to say.

Most of the room felt the same.

Only Graham and Palto’s brows furrowed deeper.

“If they’re not close, it means they’re watching each other. And when that’s the case, what we should do is make ourselves look bigger.”

Now was the time to show their state to the enemy.

Were they cowed by the Black Blade Bandits, the cult, and Azpen?

If so, they’d be devoured bit by bit.

But if they were sharpening their fangs, hiding their blades, waiting for the strike?

“Then they won’t attack so easily.”

“And what can we do with that time?”

Krys blinked his large eyes. In response to Graham’s question, he smiled.

Dimples creased his face, his lips and eyes softening. The smile that had made countless women cry accompanied his words.

“We gain real combat experience. And maybe take off the head of one of their leaders.”

What was going through Krys’s mind now?

Encrid judged it necessary all the same.

Real combat experience.

There were already soldiers hardened through training, like iron forged over and over.

Together, they weren’t weak.

Markus hadn’t laughed off the Black Blade Bandits for nothing.

He’d thought bleeding the Tarnin pigs was only a matter of time.

But among them, many still lacked battlefield experience.

The Border Guards were soldiers who’d been through hell under Encrid.

They’d been hammered into hardened troops through relentless training.

Krys knew that too.

The only weakness was their lack of actual combat.

Some veterans had survived battles against Azpen.

Others had joined up after years as mercenaries, drawn by the Independent Platoon’s reputation.

Among the recruits, many had little to no experience.

And battlefields were already places where men died too easily.

‘You need to know your weakness.’

Only then can you hide it and fight with your strengths.

It was just like swordsmanship. As he listened, Encrid thought so.

Of course, it was obvious that you should hide your weakness and flaunt your strengths, but pulling it off was another matter.

And in times like this, finding someone whose mind worked this quickly was rare.

On this continent, tactics usually meant brute force or planting spies.

Krys went a step further.

If they lacked experience, then they’d gain it.

If they had a weakness, then they’d erase it.

“We split into two units. Day unit and night unit. Day unit fights while night unit rests. Then night unit fights while day unit rests. They take turns fighting, but we don’t commit to full-scale battles.”

“……You mean only small-scale skirmishes?”

Graham interjected mid-sentence, his tone serious. Perhaps fatigue made it sound harsher.

“A large battle right away would cost us too much. First, we need to ‘prepare.’”

At some point, Krys had placed his hand on the table.

His fingers spread, pointing to a spot on the map.

“We fight here. Then fall back here.”

He was just laying out what was in his head. The words flowed without pause.

Encrid found himself drawn in, recognizing his own role in it.

Small skirmishes weren’t the Independent Platoon’s job.

Not theirs.

“The Elf Company and the Madman Company will move separately.”

Because he had been plagued with anxiety, imagining worst-case after worst-case, Krys had built his predictions on information.

And based on that information, he anticipated the enemy’s moves.

A strange heat began to build around his words.

Though it was his first time shaping actual unit operations, there was no hesitation.

“And one more thing—the captain needs to do something too.”

At last, Krys turned to Encrid.

Encrid nodded.

Whether it was slashing his way through alone or cutting down dozens of beasts, he was ready to do whatever was needed.