Chapter 306 - Variables

Whether it was luck or misfortune, the sky was incredibly clear. Even the wind didn't blow.

The days had been unusually warm for winter.

The snow that had fallen previously had melted away.

Greenpearl wasn't a place where snow typically accumulated, though the northern parts of the Pen-Hanil Mountain Range were always covered in white.

In other words, it was an ideal day for fighting. The sky seemed to be pushing them toward battle.

"The enemy is right at our gates!"

It was the report from the messenger.

By then, Enkrid had been casually walking among the regular soldiers.

"Meet them at the palisade! Everyone, out!"

At the commander's call, Enkrid also started moving.

"Aren't you supposed to return to your position?"

Helma turned her head, speaking to Enkrid, who had stayed close by. She had just grabbed her buckler and spear.

Enkrid matched her pace and responded vaguely.

"It's fine."

Helma blinked, unsure of what he meant by "fine."

But she did notice that the guy could fight.

Usually, people with delicate appearances didn't fare well in fights, right?

Helma, who had only seen Enkrid for two days, was worried.

"If your superiors find out, you'll get in trouble."

Enkrid replied vaguely again.

"I've been granted permission."

He had just asked himself and answered it. So, it was like permission had been granted, especially since it was a previously agreed-upon action.

The variable of the battlefield: what would Enkrid create?

The only thing he could do was one thing.

"Hey, if you're going to do that, you might as well lead the charge."

A soldier said indifferently.

He had been grumbling for a while.

It seemed like he harbored some resentment, but Enkrid didn't care.

In the situation where they were all going to be fighting, this kind of whining seemed almost cute.

Compared to Rem, it was nothing more than the complaints of a child.

"Alright."

Enkrid replied and kept walking. He was already heading forward.

Helma, who seemed to be part of the front-line unit, adjusted her steps to join the others at the front.

"Hey, mind your own business."

Helma snapped back at the soldier behind them.

The soldier didn't say anything more.

It seemed like they hadn't expected her to retort.

Up until now, Enkrid had assessed the soldiers' level.

While Rem had been a bit of a mess, there were a few soldiers who were quite advanced by the standards of the Naurelian soldier ranking system.

Helma was at least intermediate level. Her strength wasn't bad at all.

Most soldiers were close to basic rank, and the only two main types of soldiers were infantry and archers, but they had good discipline.

There were horses, but no cavalry, and carts were prepared for the supply lines in the rear.

Of course, the carts were carrying supplies.

'If things go wrong, we've got an escape plan in place.'

Whether they became war criminals or were chased, they wouldn't let anyone die meaninglessly here.

Neither he nor his subordinates would allow that.

Garret's voice could be heard in the formation and preparations.

Enkrid liked that too.

As he walked, he swung his arms lightly.

The pain was faint. His right arm had recovered somewhat, and his left shin had healed as well.

The injuries from everywhere else had left only faint scars. Saxon had said that his face wouldn't bear any permanent scars.

However, there would be scars on his shin, forearm, and torso.

When Enkrid heard that, Krais made another silly comment.

"Scars on the face wouldn't be so bad, but it's better if there are none."

It was clear he intended to take him to a salon for some sort of beauty treatment.

What a ridiculous guy.

Enkrid moved around, feeling the soft armor wrapped around his shoulders, chest, and thighs.

Although it was a thin leather armor, it still felt stiff. On the inside, there was a light gambeson, so it was somewhat constricting.

But if he took it off, he would be cold and his defense would be halved.

A little discomfort was helpful for his defense.

"Three swords? If you go to the front, you'll end up dead."

Helma spoke with concern. She was a nice person.

Just as she was about to say something, Jaxen appeared. No, he sprang up.

Enkrid, with his heightened senses, had already noticed, but Helma hadn't.

"I've brought him."

Helma was startled. It was as if the man had suddenly popped up from the ground.

He was wearing a thin hat instead of a helmet, and a blonde man was right next to him, constantly adjusting his leather helmet.

"Did you come?"

"Yes."

"Where's Dunbakel?"

"Big Eyes has separated her with Shinar. He says the cards need to be kept hidden."

"Ah, I see."

It was a trivial conversation. Helma didn't quite understand it.

However, she realized that the man before her was no ordinary person.

Actually, it wasn't that she had just realized it; she had known it from the start, but now it was clearer. He had been a man who had drawn attention from the beginning.

He was someone who moved around the camp, carrying no trace of the tension that others felt.

Enkrid paid no mind to Helma's gaze.

He focused on what he needed to do.

What was needed were variables.

Something the enemy wouldn't expect.

Enkrid decided to initiate it right from the first strike of the battle.

It was something Krais had agreed with as well.

It had been a method that had worked well in the past.

By landing an unexpected blow, he could observe the enemy's reaction. With that, he could confirm part of the hidden cards.

Even if he couldn't see everything, it was fine. Just seeing part of it would allow him to make educated guesses about the rest.

It would be a completely different situation compared to now, when they knew nothing.

'Ah, please.'

Krais was struggling to shake off the ominous thoughts.

Enkrid remained indifferent.

'There are a lot of them.'

Despite the enemy approaching right in front of him, he didn't feel overly tense.

In fact, he didn't feel much danger at all.

Whatever the enemy had prepared, he felt it wouldn't matter.

His instincts, which usually warned of danger, were quiet, and his body felt surprisingly good.

His right arm had recovered more than half.

'Not bad.'

It really wasn't bad.

"Waahhh!"

A battle cry rang out across the field. Aspen continued its slow advance.

As the enemy approached within the range of arrows, their forces fired first.

Fwip, fwip, fwip!

Arrows flew through the air, marking the start of the battle.

Aspen's forces responded, and a black rain of arrows began to fall overhead.

It was a very ordinary beginning to the battle.

"Hold firm!"

"Raise shields! Don't lower them!"

"Ugh!"

"Idiot!"

The arrows shot in an arc hovered in the air before raining down. A misfortunate soldier had an arrow embed itself in his shoulder.

A comrade pulled the injured soldier away while another raised a shield to protect them.

The coordination wasn't bad. They were well-trained.

Though they were still lacking.

In comparison to the Border Guard reinforcements brought in, they were weak. It was like the difference between solid stone and hardened clay.

'They need more rigorous training.'

He would have to schedule additional training for those who survived today.

Though it was a thought that came unbidden, it wasn't a bad one. Preparing for the future, for what comes next, was always helpful.

Such thoughts were also part of the preparation.

It was a way of focusing the mind.

Fixing his sword belt and gripping the sword wasn't the only form of preparation.

Enkrid observed the incoming arrows and casually avoided them.

It was no different than dodging daggers thrown at him from close range.

He didn't even carry a shield. While being fully equipped was important, at this moment—

'For now, just the three swords.'

It seemed to be the better choice.

Looking to the side, Ragna was already dodging arrows without even looking, while Jaxen had vanished.

'He'll be fine on his own.'

Was there any reason to worry about Saxon? He didn't think so.

Enkrid focused on his own business.

"Ha."

He took a deep breath. No matter the battlefield, the enemy, or his current state—good or bad.

Danger was always present, and threats should never be ignored.

As always, Enkrid put his best into everything.

His first move was to grip the one sword with both hands.

Cling.

The blue-toned steel sword slipped out of its scabbard. He raised it to the brilliant winter sunlight.

The sword had lost a few teeth, but it was still sturdy.

He had tried to maintain it, but it had taken a rough beating.

At least it was a good sword. If it had been a regular steel sword, it would have broken by now.

A good sword is always the right choice.

'Please, once more.'

Enkrid spoke to his sword. When the time came, he would lay it to rest, but now was not that time.

The armies on both sides were steadily closing the distance.

Enkrid moved along with them. He walked forward without hesitation. He took a step ahead of his forces, one step more, and soon the gap between him and his allies grew larger.

It was only natural that he would seem to be rushing ahead alone.

"Hey, where are you going?"

Someone shouted from behind. It sounded like a complaining soldier's voice.

"You crazy bastard! Hey!"

Enkrid ignored it. Now was the time to draw everyone's attention.

"Shake them with the first strike."

There had been Krais' request, but Enkrid's own emotions were already rising to the surface.

What had they prepared?

A knight? A cursed sword? Magic? Sorcery? Did they bring any knights along?

If not, how were they going to block this?

Such thoughts flitted through his mind briefly before he stepped forward, his boots crunching against the frozen earth as he met the enemy.

He was the fastest, so he was the first to reach them.

"You crazy bastard!"

The enemy, now fully tense, thrust their spears forward.

Enkrid adjusted his speed as he ran.

In an instant, he lowered his thighs and accelerated. The enemy soldier's gaze couldn't keep up with the sudden change in speed, and before they knew it, Enkrid's foot collided with the soldier's shin.

He kicked as he ran.

Crack, snap!

With one strike, the soldier's bone shattered, and his body was sent flying into the air, only to crash back down to the ground.

"Ahh!"

The scream echoed as Enkrid swiftly slammed his elbow into the head of another soldier standing beside the fallen one. He used both his foot and elbow almost simultaneously.

Crunch!

A final scream rang out as the soldier's neck snapped. Blood poured from the gap in the soldier's helmet, and the man collapsed, his skull shattered with one blow.

Only then did Enkrid swing his sword. Planting his left foot firmly, he swung the sword from his right waist to the upper left.

The heavy sword cut through the air in a diagonal arc. It was a wide, sweeping blow.

Enkrid added a trick to the move.

Using the force of the swing, he shifted the axis from his left foot to his right. As he did, he lowered the sword from the upper left to the lower left, and then swung from the lower left to the upper right.

His left and right legs crossed, and in the process, the trajectory of the sword traced an infinite symbol.

Everything touched by the blade broke, shattered, or was cut and sent flying.

"Ugh!"

"Ahh!"

Those who screamed were the ones lucky enough not to die instantly.

Anyone who had their neck or skull hit by the blade didn't survive.

Two mighty swings of the sword killed nine enemy soldiers.

By shifting his footing left and right, the range of his sword grew wider.

"Kill him!"

One of the nearby commanders glared with bloodshot eyes.

Rather than retreat, he clenched his teeth.

'Better discipline than our side.'

The training, the quality of the soldiers, and even the commander's skill were better. Enkrid, focused on the fight, hadn't taken in everything around him.

But his instincts told him: the commander speaking now needed to be dealt with.

It would increase their chances of winning, and Enkrid recognized this through experience.

As he moved forward, spear points rushed toward him from all sides.

The long spears poked and prodded.

Enkrid parried what he could and avoided the rest.

He navigated the forest of spears, moving closer to the commander, and finally delivered a blow to the top of the man's head.

With a clean strike, he didn't just cut; the skull was crushed, as though broken by immense strength.

When the blade hit the helmet, the skull shattered, piercing through the scalp. Blood and brain matter spilled out.

"Ha!"

Enkrid swung his sword widely, intimidating the surrounding soldiers. They hesitated.

Taking a deep breath, he unleashed his immense strength. This power wasn't infinite, but right now, it was the time to thrust, strike, and break.

"Shit, what the hell is this!"

One of the soldiers screamed in frustration. Enkrid's blade didn't stop. He was like a reaper, harvesting lives as he moved through the enemy ranks.

"Crazy!"

The soldier's shout was meaningless. There was no hesitation in Enkrid's sword.

As he cut down dozens alone, the enemy formation began to fall apart.

"Are you just going to watch?!"

The enemy commander shouted loudly, and soon, someone stepped forward.

If left unchecked, their formation and ranks would crumble.

A warrior from Aspen, who had been catching his breath, stepped out.

He approached Enkrid but then stopped.

The man assessed his opponent's skill.

'Heavy sword style.'

Focusing on the weight of the sword while ignoring smaller attacks.

He had made his judgment—now, it was time to fight.

The man stepped forward.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Thank you for reading!

For some extra chapters or if you want to show your support head here:

https://ko-fi.com/samowek

https://discord.gg/eXsm6WsQE6