A festival of enchantment, drinking, and partying.
Was there ever a party like this?
When was the last time there was something similar to a banquet?
Encrid tried to recall.
It seemed to be the first in many years.
It was certainly the first time in the Border Guard, and even for Encrid personally, it was a rare moment, experienced only a few times in his life.
He did enjoy something like a banquet back in his mercenary days.
What did he do then?
He only wetted his lips and focused on the aftermath of the fights.
âLetâs have a drink, Platoon Leader.â
There were many people offering drinks, not just Finn and the Company Commander.
âCome on, when itâs time to have fun, letâs have fun. Donât be so boring.â
Even Rem was saying this.
He did drink. He had said he didnât enjoy it, not that he couldnât drink.
Gulp.
A sip, the sharp aroma tickled his nose as the sweet liquid flowed down his throat, warming his stomach.
âItâs not bad.â
Though he wasnât a natural gourmand or drinker, his experience eating and drinking in various places wasnât insignificant.
It was said that a poor wanderer could eat anything but also had the ability to evaluate everything that entered his mouth.
âThere must have been some Krona in this.â
The Battalion Commander must have really opened his wallet.
No, to be precise, it was the Border Guard treating them, right?
Surely they didnât cover this out of their own pocket.
Anyway, they ate, drank, and enjoyed themselves.
When he decided to rest, he did so with all his might, knowing that proper rest was essential for preparing for the next challenge.
HoweverâŠ
âThe starlight is so beautiful tonight.â
It was indeed a good night, with the moon and stars adorning the sky. It felt almost too nice just for drinking.
âJust a little to wet the lips is enough, brother. Are you challenging me to arm wrestling? Very well.â
Audinâs voice of enjoyment could be heard from one side.
âYou bastard, are you being difficult again?â
Remâs voice picking a fight.
âItâs just not to my taste.â
Ragnaâs retort.
But where did Jaxon go?
Did they say he went to the city?
Jaxon wasnât the type to fit into a banquet.
Encrid settled into a chair.
Everyone was busy eating and drinking.
There were soldiers excitedly chatting, others mixing stories with half curses.
Every so often, not just Finn and the Company Commander, but many others were engaging with Encrid as well.
In fact, he was probably the most popular one.
âI always knew youâd see the light one day.â
It was Bell.
The one who almost died from an arrow, if not for Encridâs intervention. You could say his fate changed because of Encrid.
âSo? You want to spar?â
Encrid joked.
âNo, what sparring? They say you can even take down the Border Guard.â
âI was lucky.â
Luck, a phrase that had become a catchphrase.
âIs that something that happens by luck?â
Bell grumbled but laughed. It was a very bright laugh.
Then Vengeance approached.
âAnd you, whyâŠ?â
He took a deep breath, then said never mind, letâs just drink, and turned away abruptly.
In the past, Encrid might not have understood, but now he knew Vengeanceâs feelings.
Though his comfort was only in words, sitting down, if it reached the other person, it held meaning.
âThe world is big.â
Encrid consoled him as if reciting an infantry motto.
âThere are plenty of women.â
Thump.
Vengeanceâs steps halted. What emotions were contained in that âWhy, sighâ? Wasnât it jealousy and envy?
It was probably because he saw the Fairy Company Commander and Finn inviting Encrid to drink, along with some of the waitressesâ peculiar looks.
Was the comfort appropriate?
Vengeance turned his upper body around, his eyes seeming to burn with a ghostly flame.
âYou bastard?â
Seeing this, Encrid thought the comfort was indeed appropriate.
Isnât it much better to see him blooming with passion rather than being despondent?
âJenny?â
Encrid pretended to be surprised and looked behind Vengeance.
Vengeanceâs head turned sharply.
Jenny, the herb seller, could be considered Vengeanceâs Achillesâ heel.
The first reason he hated Encrid was because of her.
Creak.
As Vengeance confirmed there was nothing, specifically no Jenny behind him, he turned his head back toward Encrid, making a peculiar sound.
It sounded like something youâd hear from a newly born skeletal soldierâs neck.
âYou bastard? A duel it is.â
Ah, a duel. I was planning to rest today, but it couldnât be helped. This wasnât my decision.
âShall we?â
Encrid straightened up. Vengeance immediately regretted it after speaking.
He knew from experience that he wasnât Encridâs match.
But how could he tolerate being mocked like this?
âTheyâre going to fight.â
âWho? Who?â
âPlatoon Leader Vengeance, right?â
âWhoâs the opponent?â
âOh, itâs the Squad Leader of Enchantment.â
That word, âenchantmentâ.
Even though Encrid heard the words of the surrounding soldiers in one ear and out the other, he couldnât easily dismiss the word âenchantmentâ.
It seemed like a word that didnât quite fit him.
He had a similar experience before.
Did Audin call him stubborn?
Stubborn? Not at all.
And âenchantmentâ was the same. Not at all. A misunderstanding.
âWhere, whereâs the fight? Wait, hold on! For a contest, you need a bet!â
Krais suddenly appeared from among the group of soldiers.
He looked at Encridâs face and then at Vengeance.
ââŠThough no one knew, the Platoon leader skilled in the secret art of assassination is Platoon Leader Vengeance. Who wants to bet on Platoon Leader Vengeance with Krona?â
No one spoke up.
The bet wasnât made.
Vengeance swung his sword with all his might.
Encrid wasnât careless.
As always, he focused, his eyes shining.
Watching the descending sword, he moved his body. There was no hesitation.
Encrid raised his sword horizontally to block the attack, then tripped Vengeance and struck his thigh with his knee.
It was a mix of basic and unconventional techniques.
âAh!â
Vengeance fell after being struck on the side of his thigh.
âHmm.â
Encrid felt somewhat unsatisfied, like the feeling of stopping mid-stream while urinating.
A single strike, and it was over.
Wasnât Vengeance a soldier aspiring to a higher rank?
âThe soldier ranking system, isnât it supposed to be⊠uh, an evaluation or something?â
Encrid recalled Remâs words for no reason.
He looked around, wondering if there was anyone like Rem nearby.
Many were watching him with strange expressions, filled with admiration.
Seeing this, Encrid furrowed his brow, then relaxed it.
It was a look that only Krais noticed, as if he was displeased with something.
He didnât want admiration, he wanted someone to challenge him.
People requesting duels had increased for a while but had become rare recently.
Even the Border Guard Reserve Unit hadnât been challenging him much.
He thought he had seen the Border Guard Reserve Unit commander among the soldiers earlier.
The Company Commander seemed to be around as well.
Could he count on them?
Encridâs eyes searched for the two. It wasnât hard to find them.
They had caught his eye earlier.
However, the heavily armored Company Commander was already quite drunk.
The Border Guard Reserve Unit commander didnât seem inclined to step forward at all.
The commonality between them was that they were holding drinks and didnât look like they wanted to fight.
âI was going to ask you to have a drink.â
The Company Commander, with a flushed face, turned away, saying, âThat guy is definitely crazy.â
As the Commanderâs gaze turned towards him, Encrid glanced behind himself.
He wondered if Rem was there, given that he had been called âcrazyâ.
But there was no one there.
Then, who?
At least, it didnât seem directed at him.
Encrid thought of himself as one of the only sane members of the âMadmen Platoonâ.
âWhat can I say, should I say it meets expectations? Should I nod, acknowledging the lack of sanity?â
The Border Guard Reserve Unit commander left after saying that.
The Fairy Company Commander and Finn were watching him from one side.
Below them was Esther.
The blue-eyed panther yawned and then quickly turned its head.
Had it just tried to cover its mouth with its paw?
That paw wouldnât cover its mouth well.
That panther seemed almost human.
Encrid thought about sheathing his sword.
He felt like he had been interrupted mid-action, like stopping an important conversation halfway.
But what could he do? There wasnât anyone suitable to engage with.
In that moment and situation, a conversation caught his ear from one side.
âAre you really going to do it?â
âYeah.â
A conversation caught his ear.
Simultaneously, Encrid felt a thrilling sensation prickling his skin, as if an illusion of a sword appeared.
Instinctively, Encridâs hand went to his swordâs hilt.
It felt like he might have to draw his sword and fight at any moment.
He turned to look.
Andrew appeared.
Sssring.
He wasnât just standing there. He was drawing his sword, ready to strike at any time.
The determination in Andrewâs actions was evident.
As Andrew drew his sword, the starlight and torchlight played across his face in a duet of blue and red.
He hadnât been drinking, and his complexion was calm.
Standing there, Andrew spoke.
âI learned the swordsmanship of the Gardner family, honed it in real battles, and learned that there is no giving up in learning.â
Mac, who had been standing beside him, had stepped back.
The surrounding soldiers did the same, stepping back to make space.
Now, in the center, only Encrid and Andrew remained.
One had his hand on the hilt.
The other had already drawn his sword.
Without losing momentum, Andrew continued.
âI seek your teaching.â
Encrid looked into Andrewâs eyes for a moment. Unwavering pupils, burning with passion instead of admiration.
Eyes he liked very much, in that instant.
Fwoosh.
The sound of a torch flaring up was heard nearby.
A pleasant night breeze blew.
The saying that spring has magic, he had heard it so many times it had become tiresome.
âThat saying.â
It seemed true.
Instead of responding, Encrid looked up at the sky.
A night adorned with moonlight and starlight.
A cascade of stars was present.
Encrid lowered his head and spoke.
âIsnât this a great night for a fight?â
He meant it. It felt like a waste to have a feast on such a night.
Yes, if it had been any other night.
If the starlight hadnât shone down on him so.
He might have just enjoyed the feast.
But tonight was too precious for that.
âThen.â
Andrew raised his sword.
Encrid faced him.
Their relationship had started as scouts, but it changed rapidly.
And now, once again.
Andrewâs sword danced.
It was a skillful sword, focusing on speed and exploiting the opponentâs weaknesses.
Encrid faced him with caution and focus.
He gave everything he had.
It was only right.
When the opponent shows their best and sincerity, one must respond in kind.
Esther thought it was truly fascinating.
âToday is truly special.â
It was a night thick with magic.
Sensitive people could feel that something was different on such nights.
Perhaps that was why they couldnât stay still and were restless.
The fight wasnât long, and the outcome was clear.
âAlright, those who bet on Krona!â
Kraisâs voice rang out louder and clearer than ever.
He was perhaps the busiest and most enthusiastic person that night.
Thud.
The sound came as Andrew fell backward. There hadnât been dozens of exchanges of blows.
The outcome was decided even before ten strikes were exchanged.
Encrid offered his hand to help Andrew up after knocking him down.
He asked, suddenly curious.
âAre you thinking of leaving?â
âHah, yes.â
Andrew answered with a deep breath.
âWhy?â
âI have things to do.â
Well, if he had to go, he had to go.
One cannot hold back someone who is determined to leave.
âIt was enjoyable.â
âYes, Captain.â
Andrew smiled. In some ways, he seemed like a younger brother. He gave off that kind of feeling.
âI learned a lot.â
Encrid nodded in response to Andrewâs words.
For some, it was a feast to drink heavily.
For others, it was a gambling session to win some Krona.
For yet others, it was a gathering to affirm camaraderie.
And for Encrid, it was a feast under the starlight, perfect for a good duel.
After that, a few more enthusiastic individuals challenged him, changing the atmosphere.
He welcomed it.
Thus, the night of eating, drinking, and fighting passed.
Encrid slept and woke up at dawn as usual.
The morning training began.
Regardless of the night of the feast, duties had to be performed.
He headed to the training ground.
There, he found an unexpected guest.
* * *
The party continued until midnight.
The duty was taken over by another battalion that hadnât participated in the combat.
âThank you for your help.â
Marcus spoke to his subordinate commander with gratitude.
âItâs no problem.â
The commander readily accepted Marcusâs request.
Why wouldnât he?
Who was Marcus, after all?
He was no ordinary Battalion Commander.
Once he returned to the capital, he would assume a new identity.
He was a noble, one of the five families holding significant power.
âSo then.â
The commander left, and Marcus set down the bottle of alcohol he had been holding.
For the sake of the troopâs morale, he had done something out of character.
He preferred tea over alcohol.
In fact, he had a habit of mixing tea with alcohol when he did drink.
He also preferred quiet places over noisy ones.
âIs it because of the education I received as a child?â
Perhaps it was the influence of the tea ceremony he learned from his family.
It wasnât important. He had gotten used to it and saw no need to change a habit that had become second nature.
Marcus leisurely sipped his tea.
The noise from the party reached even his quarters.
Although they had banned inviting prostitutes, many would likely head to the red-light district after drinking.
Today was a time to show leniency rather than strict control.
He planned to let most things slide.
As he passed the time, a few familiar commanders stopped by.
Some were conscious of his power.
Others sought him out because they liked his battlefield persona, associated with the nickname âwarmongerâ.
All the Company Commanders had arrived, except for one.
âThe Fairy Company Commander is missing.â
Not that it mattered. Whether she was currying favor or trying to share a drink with him, both would seem laughable.
He continued to chat, drinking tea mixed with alcohol.
As the sun set and the moon rose, Marcus retired early to bed. He slept soundly, without dreams.
In the quiet,
Knock, knock.
âCommander.â
The voice of his guard and the sound of knocking woke Marcus.
âWhat is it?â
He glanced out the window. It was still before dawn, the sky mixing blue and orange hues, signaling the start of a new day.
âA guest has arrived.â
It was an unusually early time for a visitor.
Who would come at such an hour?
The visitor was likely someone beyond human etiquette and noble power.
Marcus wasnât surprised.
He hadnât expected the visitor so soon, but he had a good idea who it might be.
âI thought theyâd come by tomorrow at the earliest.â
He had heard that the battlefield had just been secured.
Was it an impatient gift, or were they expecting something?
âIâll be out soon.â
Marcus draped a jacket loosely over his shirt and went out.
The gift had arrived, and now it was time to deliver it. This gift was for one person.
It was the result of Marcusâs careful deliberation.
The recipient of the gift was, of course, Encrid.
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