âThe goddess of luck must have cursed me.â thought Encrid, looking up at the sky.
The blue moon filled his vision. It was still before dawn, and having woken up early, he could still see the moon he saw before sleeping.
The moon was indeed bright.
âCome to think of it, isnât it true?â
In his dreams, thereâs a ferryman and a wall, but no matter what, he keeps dying in unlucky ways.
This time was no different.
He tried to exploit a gap in the enemy formation several times, but luck never seemed to be on his side.
He aimed for a weak spot, struck at a spearmanâs foot, and charged in, only to have a mound of earth suddenly collapse over his head.
Why did part of the ceiling have to collapse at that moment?
And why did the falling dirt have to get in his eyes?
It was the same afterward.
He ran along the castle wall targeting a wizard, but part of the wall, which had been holding up until then, suddenly crumbled, removing his foothold.
Other similar misfortunes followed.
Once, he found that the heart of a lycanthrope was on the opposite side, perhaps because it was a mutant.
While catching his breath during a fight, he leaned against a tree, only to find it rotten and unable to support him, causing him to lose balance.
Such unlucky events were not a one-time occurrence.
From being born without innate talent, wasnât that also a form of bad luck?
âIs the goddess playing tricks on me?â he wanted to ask, though he knew there would be no answer.
It wasnât a question he expected an answer to. It was just a way to mark the start of a new day.
Today began with greeting the goddess.
He got up and started training with the Isolation Technique.
He walked in a crouched stance, one knee bent, almost touching the ground with the other.
As he focused on his training, others began to wake and move.
Encrid caught one of the scouts and asked, âCan you make something like this? I need a pouch to use as an emergency fund.â
He explained that it was a cloth pouch he wanted to keep inside his sleeve.
It would be even better if it could be fixed in place.
Since they even made ham in their spare time, they had various tools and didnât need to gather materials.
âSure, it can be done quickly. But donât you have to leave soon?â
âIt would be nice if you could make it before that.â Encrid said.
The scout blinked and nodded. âOkay, Iâll do it. Hey, can you cover my shift?â
The scout was generous.
Encrid thanked him with a pat on the shoulder.
After finishing his training, Finn approached.
âAre you giving us a good show this morning?â
He was referring to Encrid practicing with his sword shirtless.
âCan you use a crossbow?â
âIs that even a question? Itâs basic training for a ranger.â
Encrid anticipated the response and replied, âI was just asking.â
ââŠI donât really have a response to that.â
âHow do you make your footsteps so quiet by putting something under your boots?â Encrid asked.
âOh, this? There are a lot of sensitive beasts around here.â Finn replied, gesturing to her ear with her left hand. âSo, I double-layer cloth on the soles and put cotton inside the boots.â
Encrid didnât ask because he didnât know.
âThat sounds good. Iâd like to do that with my boots as well.â
âItâs not difficult.â
âTorres?â Encrid called.
âDo you want me to do it too?â
âThere are a lot of beasts around, after all.â Finn added, although the likelihood of encountering them was low.
Two of the team members began modifying the boots.
âThese boots are very meticulously made. You can tell a lot of care went into them.â
âReally?â Encrid responded, pleased. The boots had been crafted with effort by a shoemaker they met thanks to a body enthusiast in the sewers. It was a compliment he appreciated.
It didnât take long to add layers of cloth to the soles and stuff the inside with cotton.
Training was finished, and the soundless boots were ready.
âHere.â one of the scouts handed over the pouch Encrid had requested earlier in the morning.
The pouch could be hidden inside his sleeve by looping it around the wrist and tightening the cord. It was stitched very finely, better than what their squad leader, who liked to drink, could do.
Encrid had known about the scoutâs sewing skills beforehand, having tried everyone out. Finnâs attempt had been the worst. It would have been better if she hadnât tried at all, given her lack of skill. The pouch she made was so misshapen it barely fit a finger inside and was unusable.
âHa ha, itâs been a while since I sewed.â Finn had said, laughing it off.
Such days had been a tough start. On this particular morning, Finn, who had once given Encrid a hard start with her sewing, came over and patted him on the shoulder.
âLetâs go.â
Breakfast was over, and preparations were complete. They were heading towards the tunnel again.
âThe seventy-ninth time.â Encrid counted the repeated days as he walked briskly.
He knew the path well, having walked it countless times.
Finn occasionally glanced back and, noticing Encridâs stride, asked with a curious tilt of his head, âDid you work as a scout for a long time?â
âMe?â Torres asked, before turning his gaze to Encrid.
âNo.â Encrid replied as they walked.
âReally?â
Torres seemed puzzled by the question, but Encrid knew exactly why it was asked. He knew what Finn would say next if pressed.
âYour walk is different, like that of a ranger.â
âThatâs the answer.â Encrid said.
What else had he been doing, trailing behind Finn all this time?
He had observed her walk and mimicked it. It was a rangerâs walk, using the cloth beneath their boots to move silently.
As they continued walking quietly along a dirt path, occasionally covered with grass, Encrid asked, âWhat if the enemy is waiting at the tunnel?â
It was a sudden question but a valid concern.
âWe fight.â Torres answered first, kicking a pebble in front of him. The stone skidded and bounced off a flat, yellowish rock.
Encrid carefully watched where the stone landed, listening intently.
âThe chances are slim, but if they are, we just run.â Finn responded, seemingly prepared for the question.
âI see.â Encrid replied briefly.
As they reached a hillock covered with bushes, Encrid asked another question, âWhat if our retreat is cut off?â
Torres, who had just stepped onto the hillock, looked puzzled, wondering why Encrid was asking these questions.
The mission was simple: get inside, check the status of the âcatâ planted by their allies, and if things went wrong, retreat freely.
Why was Encrid being so cautious before the mission even started?
âWeâre making sure that wonât happen.â Finn answered, her tone becoming more rigid due to the repeated questioning.
âHow high and wide is that tunnel?â
âHuh?â
âIf weâre blocked front and back, are there any other paths?â
They hadnât even taken a few steps up the hillock, yet the questions kept coming.
âWhatâs up with this guy?â Torres thought, tilting his head in confusion. Why was Encrid asking all this now after following silently until now?
It couldnât be because he was scared.
If he were afraid of crawling through a tunnel, he wouldnât have charged into the midst of a pack of werewolves. He certainly wouldnât have fought harpies descending from the sky.
âWhy? Got a bad feeling?â Torres asked. He didnât believe in superstition, but he respected Encridâs instincts, similar to those of certain people in the Border Guard, who had a knack for sensing things.
âItâs not that.â Encrid replied calmly. They had to go in anyway, if he said he had a bad feeling, they might change their plan.
Finn looked back at Encrid, her expression questioning if he was trying to pick a fight with her.
âGot something to say?â
âI was just wondering what we should do if the enemy appears.â Encrid said.
Finn tilted her head to the side and then straightened it again. She felt uneasy, though she didnât know why. Was it because this guy kept bringing up doubts?
âThe tunnel is a main route for smugglers, not a path typically used by the âcatâ or our side. So, itâs actually one of the safest routes right now.â Finn explained, reaffirming the reason they chose this path to herself as well.
Torres nodded beside her. He wasnât quite at a rangerâs level, but he had participated in all sorts of missions.
âThis should be safe enough.â he thought, agreeing with Finn.
Encrid nodded, and they stepped into the tunnel, walking a few steps inside.
âWhat if thereâs an armed force waiting ahead? Are we dead?â Encrid asked again.
âOh, for fuckâs sake.â Finn cursed under her breath.
No matter how calm they tried to appear, they were still heading into enemy territory. Why was he bringing up such things?
âDo you not want to do this? If not, just leave.â Finn snapped, her frustration boiling over. Seeing Encrid shake his head made her even more irritated.
âItâs not that.â Encrid replied.
âWhatâs wrong with him?â Finn muttered, directing her frustration toward Torres.
There are only so many times you can tolerate annoying comments.
Was he always like this?
No, something was different.
Torres had no answer.
âLetâs go.â Encrid said, taking the lead as Finn stopped in her tracks, angered.
Just as Finn was about to say something else in her frustration, both she and Torres felt something strange. Their attention was suddenly drawn to Encrid without them realizing it.
Why?
It was a heavy aura, a presence that Encrid exuded.
Torres was an elite soldier, and Finn was no less skilled. Both felt the intensity of Encridâs aura.
âJustâŠâ Encridâs voice broke the tension, âIâm saying we should be careful.â
Finn swallowed hard at Encridâs measured words.
Whatâs with this guy? He had been annoying, but now, suddenly, he seemed impressive.
The rising annoyance she felt vanished in an instantâa miracle.
âIs this love?â
Everyone in Finnâs scouting unit knew she fell in love quickly. Thankfully, she never let it interfere with her work.
Love is love.
Men are men.
Work is work.
Finn acknowledged it. She had indeed relaxed a bit.
Even if the âcatâ got caught, it wouldnât reveal their position. Although entering the city was risky, she was confident they could escape if needed.
They had planned to use a âpathâ they had saved for such situations.
âLetâs do that.â Finn agreed, quickly shifting her attitude. She began to step more cautiously.
Torres did the same, though he briefly cast a strange look at Encrid.
âOf course, we need to be careful.â he said, then started walking.
âThat should do it.â
Encrid sensed the change in their attitudes. His warnings werenât just idle talk. The aura he projected was deliberate.
They needed to create an opening to slit the throats of the waiting enemies and survive. On the other hand, they couldnât afford to show any weakness.
They were up against elite soldiers equipped with spears and shields, laying traps, with archers blocking their retreatâover forty in total. This wasnât a situation where they could afford any mistakes.
So, he made sure to instill that sense of urgency.
The caution of a regular soldier differed from that of a ranger.
âStrange.â
Encrid thought to himself, feeling the tension in the air.
Throughout their walk by torchlight, Finn kept her head down.
A ranger with the skill to effortlessly track both pathfinders and hunters, she found the traces peculiar, just as she had said.
âThe footprints are odd.â Finn commented. Thatâs exactly what she had been excitedly explaining.
The enemy had tried to erase their tracks. But itâs impossible to completely fool the eyes of a ranger who is actively searching for clues.
Encrid hadnât planned for a direct confrontation from the start. How many times had he repeated today? There were lessons learned from all those repetitions. One of them was that a direct approach wasnât always necessary.
âIâve got a bad feeling about the rear.â Finn said, and Encrid quickly responded with his prepared line.
His performance didnât need to be outstanding. He had done this countless times.
This moment was familiar, it had occurred many times before. He just needed to do what had to be done.
âFeels like thereâs definitely something ahead.â Finn remarked.
âDamn, what are you saying?â Torres muttered, looking around anxiously.
Encrid decided it was the right moment to speak. âLetâs secure our retreat first.â
By this, he meant they should turn back and clear the path. Specifically, he intended to deal with the archers who would be waiting behind them, but of course, Finn and Torres wouldnât know that.
Finn and Torres turned their attention to Encrid.
âIf someone blocks our retreat from behindâŠâ Encrid didnât need to finish the sentence.
âGot it, letâs go.â
âMust be a bad day.â Torres and Finn muttered consecutively as they turned around.
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