Chapter 305

When asked about the identity of the meat that melts in the mouth, the female soldier replied.

"It’s eel."

Not a snake, but a long-bodied fish caught in freshwater.

The woman soldier, using a short knife, roughly peeled the skin off while speaking.

Everyone was quick with their hands. They moved well in sync.

"When we go back to the city, I’m thinking of transporting fish from the river and selling it. What do you think?"

The soldier who was seasoning the fish asked. Enkrid quietly gave a thumbs-up.

With that gesture, he imagined the trade route between the river and this place.

If the path was well-prepared, it would only take two days by cart.

And if they could acquire a Spell Object that emits cold even in the middle of summer, freshness wouldn’t be an issue.

If an artifact is an ancient relic, Spell Objects are magical tools made and sold by mage guilds and such.

Among them, there were tools that maintained a gentle chill.

Using those, people in big cities could even eat shaved ice in the middle of summer.

Of course, those were ridiculously expensive, and tools like that were hard to find in backwater places like Border Guard. But, if trade develops more, who knows?

Even silks were being imported now.

If there weren’t wars, it would’ve expanded even more, but that’s just how it was.

"This flavor is something I’ve never tasted before."

Enkrid said it with sincere emotion.

Though some seasoning had gotten on his lips, the feeling did not wane. If anything, it intensified.

The soldier who had been seasoning the eel smiled slyly. He didn’t have a particularly good face, but the smile was sincere.

Pure joy was visible. It seemed like he enjoyed the mere act of someone eating his cooking.

"Do you think it’ll sell well?"

"Definitely."

"It’s nice to hear that, even if it’s just words."

"Hey, if that happens, are you taking me along?"

The soldier who had been grilling the eel spoke up. His face was smeared with soot, but it looked natural on him.

They didn’t seem too old.

"Helma! Are all of them grilled?"

A few soldiers approached from one side, calling out. The woman soldier who had been staring at Enkrid was named Helma.

"Yeah, did you catch anything?"

Without turning around, Helma replied.

From the sounds of it, she had been clearing a path all the way to the Pen-Hanil River and sometimes brought something back when bored.

One of the soldiers came closer, lowering a thick pouch.

Thin ice shards fell out of the leather pouch that had a thin layer of ice due to the cold.

"What is it?"

"Crawfish."

The pouch was opened, and a crustacean with pincers emerged.

The soldier who had been making the seasoning stuck out his tongue, wiping his lips, then spoke.

"It’s delicious just grilled."

Enkrid blended with the soldiers. He ate and enjoyed as if he had always been one of them.

"Want a sip?"

"Sure."

Helma offered him a drink. It was whiskey with a sour smell.

"It’s not good liquor, but it’s not bad either."

It was just right for warming up on a cold day.

The soldier with the cooking talent grilled the crawfish, cracked open its head, and spread the seasoned insides on its flesh like a coating.

"You’d go crazy eating this."

Enkrid tried it.

He nearly lost his mind. There was no fishy smell, but the savory flavor overflowed.

An unpleasant sweetness wrapped around his tongue, hitting his brain hard.

"You really should open a restaurant."

Enkrid recommended it twice.

Next up was trout. The innards had already been cleaned at the riverside, so it only needed grilling. When salt and pepper were sprinkled, it became another delicacy.

"But where are you from?"

Another female soldier, not Helma, asked. Female soldiers were occasionally seen in the unit, but this was expected.

Naurillia had strongly encouraged women to enlist.

If you were born as the daughter of a serf, throw your life away and join the army to change it.

The female enlistment system.

It was the third military system in Naurillia, following the soldier ranking system and mercenary system.

It had been so successful that female soldiers were now a common sight.

"Reinforcements."

"From Border Guard?"

"Yeah."

"How’s it? Is the commander really handsome? There’s a rumor that he’s even more handsome than you, huh?"

At that moment, Enkrid had a beard. More precisely, he hadn’t had the time to shave. It might have seemed untidy, but he couldn’t entirely hide his handsome face.

Helma was frequently glancing at him.

"No, I’m better."

Enkrid dismissed it with a joke.

Some of the soldiers couldn’t hold back their laughter.

A few sent jealous glances, while others liked Enkrid’s friendly attitude.

"Don’t step in too much."

Many soldiers said this. It was a result of jealousy and complex feelings.

"Yeah. I won’t."

Enkrid accepted it calmly.

What would fighting get him?

If it had been Rem, he would’ve smashed their skulls first, but he wasn’t Rem.

After eating and drinking, they entered the assigned barracks, and Enkrid saw Esther sitting quietly, waiting.

Some of the soldiers had rumored that a few had gotten lovesick after seeing her.

Her black hair, like silk, cascaded down, and she wore thick black fur, giving her a mage-like appearance. She, along with Shinar, was enough to catch the attention of the surrounding soldiers.

Had she not gone out because of that?

It wasn’t likely. Esther had never cared about those around her.

The mage opened her mouth when she looked at Enkrid.

Her tone, with no rise or fall, was the epitome of bluntness.

"I need to go somewhere."

"Alright."

Enkrid didn’t feel the need to stop her.

And just like that, Esther left. The next morning, Kraiss asked, his eyes bloodshot.

"Do you think that spells or magic might be helpful?"

This was about why he had let Esther go. Now that she was in human form, wouldn’t she be helpful?

Enkrid had thought the same thing.

"No."

"Why?"

"If she could, she would’ve done it earlier."

Kraiss, being sharp, would’ve realized it normally. Esther had been in human form for quite a while.

If there was something she could’ve done with a spell, she would’ve done it by now.

But she hadn’t. There was a reason for that.

Enkrid knew this, which was why he sent her off. He figured she had something else to do.

He didn’t think he needed her right now.

If she wanted to help, that was fine, but if he forced her, it could turn out to be a hindrance.

It was more of a feeling than a thought.

Enkrid followed his instincts, not ignoring them.

"Why do you only get smart at times like this?"

Kraiss grumbled, but it was clear that he acknowledged Enkrid’s decision.

After that, Enkrid warmed up as usual and began his training.

Isolation technique, a process of tightening and stretching each muscle, followed by swinging the sword.

This time, after killing Lykanos, he took his sword and brought it back.

Now he had two swords on his left hip.

"Isn’t it uncomfortable?"

Shinar, who had been watching since the morning, asked.

"It’s fine once you get used to it, and it’s lighter than I expected."

"Really?"

"A light spar?"

"Not bad."

The ground.

Shinar’s Leaf Blade was flexible, smooth, and fast.

She supported herself with the tips of her toes, flying toward him with a bouncing motion, and even though it was a light attack, it was tricky to deflect.

"Are you preparing for my style?"

"You catch on quickly, fiancée."

When Enkrid tried to deflect it, she had already attacked and retreated.

Enkrid changed his swordsmanship style. It was a longsword. He swung it heavily, cutting with weight, then added speed.

It wasn’t the five strikes in one step that Ragna had shown before.

It was two sword strikes per step.

Having observed, thought about it, and practiced, he could now mimic it.

"Good."

Shinar was impressed. Her Leaf Blade had also changed. From a fast, slicing sword to a defensive blade.

Her style was unpredictable. The fairy sword was sharp yet smooth.

Enkrid absorbed this as well.

He would reflect on it later and learn from it.

There would be something to gain.

Though his right arm injury still wasn’t fully healed, it wasn’t a life-or-death sparring session.

Neither of them were serious.

After a while, as they sparred, Shinar wiped a drop of sweat from her forehead and asked.

"Is that sword’s name Ana?"

"Does it have a name?"

He was holding the sword that Lykanos had used with his left hand.

Enkrid scanned the sword with his eyes.

The sword was shaped like an awl, with the hilt, back, and tip of the blade all forming a single continuous sharp point.

The blade was silver, and the hilt was wrapped in something coarse, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.

There was no need for leather to be added, and when held, it felt perfectly fitted to his palm—like a sword made specifically for him.

Thus, Enkrid immediately knew it was no ordinary weapon.

The hilt also had markings resembling a system of symbols, similar to writing.

Perhaps it wasn’t a secret, as Shinar spoke up quietly.

"It’s a sword made by the fairy race. Its name is ‘Bulti.’"

"Is it famous?"

"Somewhat."

Enkrid had already thought that it wasn’t just an ordinary sword.

It was hard yet light.

This wasn’t made from ordinary iron.

Bulti was a sword crafted by a famous artisan from the fairy race.

There were two types of swords made by the fairies: Nai and Needle. This one was a sword of the Needle variety, named after the technique used to make it.

Naming a weapon like that was a sign of confidence.

He had heard that this was a sword lost ten years ago, and now it had appeared here.

It was a sword that was light, sturdy, and specialized for thrusting.

Among the needles, it was the finest of its kind.

‘How many swords were lost back then?’

The artisan who made Bulti had created several swords, but all of them were lost for some reason.

It wasn’t just some minor incident—it was due to the foolish bloodline that lost them.

‘Patience, Destruction, Bulti.’

There were others too, but he couldn’t remember all of them.

Perhaps if he visited the fairy city, they would be well recorded, along with the records of those vile human bandits.

These swords had been lost when a fairy knight, under a surprise attack, had died.

The swords had been given to those unworthy and unskilled, and that was why they were lost.

That was not how things should have been, but that was how it went.

‘Only those with the right to bear them should possess them.’

It was only natural that Enkrid possessed Bulti. That’s how Shinar saw it.

"Isn’t it a famous sword? Doesn’t it need to be recovered or something?"

"If you don’t get close, even the fairies won’t recognize it. There’s the word ‘Bulti’ engraved under the guard, in fairy language. Just make sure you hide that well."

Shinar said this and turned away. Enkrid understood her words perfectly.

‘She’s telling me to hide it well.’

He decided to do just that. He had found a good sword. There was no need to return it.

Enkrid also had a desire for swords.

After sweating it out with Shinar, Enkrid felt hungry again.

He washed up and walked around the interior of the camp, which was somewhat arranged like a village.

There was no blacksmith, but here and there, people were either cooking or making something by sewing.

Everyone seemed to have a lot of work to do.

This time, he took Ragna and Dunbakel along. They had been staring at the sparring, and it didn’t seem like they had anything to do.

"Want to come along?"

"Sure."

"I thought you must have eaten something yesterday, but you reeked of it."

Dunbakel was a beastkin. His sense of smell was keen, and he himself had a fondness for good food.

"Follow me."

Enkrid, once again, found a place to settle and picked at whatever food he could.

He didn’t explicitly reveal his identity. He hadn’t planned to say anything, but seeing how Enkrid treated the soldiers, Dunbakel also quickly introduced himself as one of the reinforcements.

"Who made this? It’s amazing."

"I made it."

"Well done, kid."

Dunbakel absentmindedly patted the soldier’s head, and the young soldier blushed for a moment.

Some soldiers asked Ragna about things, but he kept silent.

He seemed to be either lost in thought or looking for something.

The soldiers kept their distance from Ragna.

"They seem like wounded ones."

One of them saw through the situation, but no one listened to him.

Enkrid heard it, though, and understood.

He himself was fine, but the soldiers in his unit seemed a bit lacking.

"Hey, didn’t I tell you not to bring strange friends around here?"

One soldier spoke sharply, but Enkrid casually let it slide.

"Yeah, I’ll be careful."

"This guy..."

"Hey, stop it."

"No, this guy..."

"Stop."

"Ugh."

"Don’t act like a fool."

It was annoying when people only talked and acted freely, but Enkrid couldn’t just stir up trouble.

The surrounding soldiers intervened.

A few of the grumbling soldiers kept quiet.

"Watch yourself."

That was all they said.

Enkrid thought the military discipline was quite well maintained.

It wasn’t exactly trouble, but it was a situation that could have escalated, and if it did, Enkrid would have had no choice but to handle it like Rem would.

"Tsk."

As he clicked his tongue, Helma gave Enkrid an odd look.

Enkrid casually ignored it and continued to eat and enjoy himself.

Grilled trout, crawfish, and eel with seasoning made even Ragna look back at the soldier who had made it.

His eyes were sparkling with interest.

For someone who usually picky about food, this was impressive.

"This seasoning is a secret recipe of mine."

The soldier’s seasoning could be called a beaver's work. He glanced at Dunbakel.

He was a peculiar one with unique tastes.

Enkrid focused on eating, drinking, and resting, with minimal training.

His body hadn’t fully recovered yet.

While the rear soldiers were busy making food and preparing, Enkrid noticed a few soldiers near the front of the camp who seemed different.

Garrett’s battalion was small in terms of combat personnel, but the ones standing out the most were here.

They were the plains reconnaissance unit, the Green Pearl Rangers.

"Going out for a reconnaissance?"

"Who? Where are you from?"

They were clearly allies, but reconnaissance missions were dangerous. Soldiers couldn’t just give answers to strangers who suddenly came by and started talking. A few soldiers shot wary glances.

"I’m from the reinforcements."

Enkrid showed his insignia.

It had the emblem of the high guard of Border Guard.

"You’re probably not concerned with that."

One of the soldiers, at least a senior in the Naurillia soldier rank system, spoke.

He was short but appeared nimble.

Enkrid sized him up, noting his nimble build, light equipment, and where his center of gravity would be.

‘Take the front with a stab.’

Enkrid spotted a stiletto hanging loosely from his waist.

It was something he had learned through the Isolation Technique, and something he had understood from Audin.

It was a conclusion based on observing the opponent’s training level.

"Eat this."

Enkrid took out some seasoned jerky from his pocket and tossed it to the elite soldier. The soldier, with suspicion still in his eyes, asked.

"What’s this?"

"Try it. It’s delicious."

The soldier took a small bite of the jerky and tore it further.

"Got any bread? Dip it in and try."

Enkrid handed over some marmalade to a nearby soldier.

It was a local specialty of Border Guard. If it tasted bad, something was wrong with the tongue.

Although supplies weren’t exactly abundant, they weren’t lacking either.

They couldn’t easily go hunting because they were stationed in a narrow region, and occasionally, monster hordes caused trouble, so they had to deal with those as well.

Aside from the archers stationed at the watchtowers, the main force of the unit was the Rangers.

They didn’t even have a cavalry.

"This is good."

One of the reconnaissance soldiers mumbled. The elite soldier, the apparent leader of the group, snorted.

"I don’t know why, but are you reporting to your commanding officer before wandering around?"

He hadn’t. He could have done it now if necessary.

Enkrid reported to his superior in his mind, then answered aloud.

"I’m giving it to you because you’re working hard. Just eat it."

"You’re a strange one."

After that, Enkrid focused on eating and resting as he toured the camp.

He could see a lot just by looking around.

The watchtowers had been set up in a narrow area.

The defensive zone was narrow, so it would be easier to defend, though it became more vulnerable to flanking attacks. But sometimes, you had to take risks.

On the fourth day after Enkrid’s arrival, as the sun began to set, a messenger hurriedly ran into the camp.

All eyes turned toward the messenger.

"The enemy is already at the gates!"

The messenger’s words spread throughout the command tent.