CHAPTER 8

"I don't want to die further" is a superficial reason.

Encrid felt a different fear repeating 'today'.

I might be settling here because I'm afraid I'll never get this chance again if I skip today, a desire to stop here.

That desire was a fear for Encrid.

'Was this what I wanted?'

Settling for today is a wasted life.

It's a life that cannot progress.

Looking forward to tomorrow is a natural human psyche.

Moreover, Encrid was a human who dreamed of tomorrow with his inadequate talent.

There were also rational and valid reasons.

'I've learned everything there is to learn.'

There's too little to gain from further training here.

Then it must be time to move towards tomorrow.

'What will happen if I survive?'

Will this day just end then?

I agonized countless times.

In conclusion, I don't know.

I didn't know how it would be after surviving.

'If I can move forward.'

Let's move forward.

Isn't that how I've lived my whole life?

Above all, Encrid needed certainty.

Can I really see tomorrow by repeating today?

I don't know. That's why I'm challenging it.

The mindset of a challenger was his everyday life.

Today will be a long day.

I'll have to use everything I've built up so far.

* * *

"How did you do that?"

"Luck."

"Are you just going to pass it off as luck?"

As they exited the tent, Krais asked with wider eyes than usual.

The dealer friend who rolled the dice was speechless.

But he didn't make a fuss, saying it was unreasonable.

It was my hand that rolled the dice.

Thanks to that, Encrid was able to get up and leave easily.

He had no guilt.

He hadn't cheated before.

Just like an amateur fortune teller, he knew every number the dice would throw up.

"I owe you a drink in town later."

A soldier who benefited from Encrid's share slapped his shoulder and passed by.

"It's real luck. I'm no good at gambling."

Encrid said, turning his steps. Krais followed closely.

"If that's not being good, then all the good ones must be buried underground."

"Sometimes luck just finds you."

"...If luck finds you twice, your pockets will be so full they might burst."

As they walked, Encrid tossed seventeen silver coins.

Clang.

At the sound of the coins hitting, Krais grabbed his pockets.

Taking them, Krais said, "Alright, I don't need to know."

Then suddenly, he stared at Encrid with big eyes rolling.

"I understand."

Understand what?

When Encrid asked with his eyes, Krais continued with a sly smile.

"You're planning to impress the commander who's coming tomorrow, right? Hence the flowers? Well, rather than white campion, wouldn't roses or lilies be better?"

Gambling aside, it seemed like a peculiar type of request to fetch.

"...Will that work?"

What on earth is going through this guy's head?

Rumors were swirling that a new battalion commander was coming tomorrow, and apparently she was a woman.

Yeah, they did say a woman was coming.

But would she really fall head over heels just for a bouquet?

Even the country girls wouldn't fall for that.

Of course, if you had someone like Krais as your backup, maybe it could work.

No, would it even then? If it goes well, you break even; if not, it could be straight to the gallows for insubordination.

"If the squad leader gets dressed up, he actually looks quite decent."

"Do you have to ask so thoroughly every time I ask you to fetch something?"

Will he have to run himself into a sweat until lunchtime to get the goods?

Seeing his gaze, Krais understood and turned away.

Krais would move swiftly.

It had to be that way. It had happened a few times before: depending on how quickly that guy fetched it, Encrid might have to sweat it out too.

So now was the time to rest.

Encrid leisurely ate his breakfast.

It was porridge with well-broken barley and wheat, hard bread, and dried meat.

Meat came only every three days.

Luckily, today was that day.

Otherwise, within the repetitive days, he wouldn't have even seen meat.

Normally, he would soak the bread in the soup and eat it.

He chewed on the somewhat thickened broth, finding it flavorful but still rough.

He tore and mixed the dried meat as if dissecting it, then adjusted the seasoning to taste.

Encrid chewed thoroughly. A meal soon became the energy to move.

Regardless of skill level, soldiers who had eaten well for days showed a difference in combat effectiveness compared to those who had starved.

The warm broth slid down his throat and settled in his stomach.

After repeating this a few times, his bowl was empty.

"Tasty? The flavor of exploiting the labor of your comrades?"

Rem approached, grumbling.

"Very."

"It's good if you eat without being picky. I haven't seen anyone who survives longer than the guy who eats whatever food is given. We have someone like that in our squad too."

"Despite that, it seems like he continues to live well."

"Maybe not for long."

Rem, who had been gossiping about his squadmates, soon picked up his bowl and moved away.

It was time to diligently clean the bowls.

After filling his stomach with bread and dried meat wrapped in thick soup, Encrid carefully wiped down his sword with an oiled rag, then again with a dry one.

The newly acquired sword wasn't made of famous steel or crafted by a renowned artisan, but it was quite serviceable.

Its weight distribution was good, and the blade was sharp.

It could cut through thick cloth armor or thin leather armor without difficulty.

After finishing the sword maintenance and stepping out in front of the barracks, Krais appeared.

Turning his head left and right, Encrid called out as he saw Krais approaching.

"Big Eyes."

Krais approached with what looked like a bundle in his hands.

"Here you go."

The bundle, of course, was the item Encrid had ordered.

Upon receiving it, it was exactly as he had expected.

Five throwing knives, slightly impure but usable.

The quality wasn't great, but there was a greased bundle of leather and a large needle.

"I could only manage to get deer leather gloves."

Krais said as he rubbed his finger against the blade of the throwing knife.

Indeed.

There was only one pair of gloves for the left hand, not two.

"So here."

Krais handed back one silver coin.

"I calculated the deer leather gloves as two coins."

Big Eyes, he's really sharp with money.

It's a known fact.

If you argue, you might get it, but it would take time. It was better to focus on today's work instead.

There wasn't much time for this and that.

He brought back dried white campions.

"If you're not going to confess, why bother? I can't find any fresh ones."

The cheating bastard.

Encrid nodded. This was within his expectations.

Who in their right mind would find a dozen fresh flowers on the battlefield?

"Instead, there are twelve."

At least the swindler had some conscience.

"And here."

Krais handed over a small box.

Opening it revealed rice packed inside.

Perhaps, if the deal had fallen through, he would have haggled over the rice and barely managed to procure it later.

It was a shady deal, but Encrid didn't mind.

He had everything he needed.

"Thank you."

"But seriously, what are you going to do?"

Krais was genuinely curious about what this amiable platoon leader was up to.

"Thinking of doing some sewing and maybe brewing some liquor."

Krais could only tilt his head at Encrid's response.

Sewing all of a sudden? And why brew liquor?

"Well, alright then."

Without pressing further, Krais left, and Encrid securely sheathed the knife at his waist before tossing the rest into the tent.

Then he strode purposefully.

His destination was already set.

As he walked unceasingly toward the outskirts of the barracks, a soldier spotted Encrid and shouted.

"Hey, you there! The Squad leader, right? If you're here for business, don't go that way."

"Why?"

"Yesterday, someone peeing there got bitten by a snake. Not a deadly one, but it's been itching and causing trouble all day."

"I'm in a hurry. I'll be quick."

"I warned you."

He wasn't actively looking for trouble. The soldier just dismissed Encrid.

"Unless your luck's really bad, you should be fine."

With that thought, the soldier turned away from Encrid.

Encrid walked leisurely, surveying his surroundings.

The outskirts of the barracks, designated for relieving oneself.

Several foul-smelling pits and plenty of dry leaves scattered between a few large trees.

Encrid avoided the stench and spread the rice.

Then he found a spot devoid of grass, squatted down, and picked up a nearby fallen branch, trimming its end with the tip of a throwing knife.

He used the blade to scrape and shape the branch repeatedly, exerting force to refine its tip.

After several cuts, the branch split at the tip like a spear.

To onlookers, it seemed like he was passing time with nothing to do, but his mind was elsewhere.

While working, Encrid kept an eye on the dry leaves.

Not long after finishing the branch, the leaves rustled.

Snakes dislike rice. Having spread it to one side, it was natural for the snake to avoid that area.

He had occasionally hunted snakes.

Catching a good venomous one could fetch a good price.

Once, when he asked a city drunkard what he did with snakes, he laughed heartily.

"You never tried snake liquor? If not, just shut up."

He was quite the jovial drunkard.

Swish.

Pushing through the dry leaves, he spotted a squirming creature.

It had a brown body with a moderately angular head.

Encrid pressed the end of the branch against its neck.

Poke.

In this simple action, he mixed in what he had learned about piercing.

The snake couldn't avoid it.

He swiftly knocked the snake's head with the knife handle to stun it.

'One down.'

He repeated the same process a few more times.

After spreading the remaining rice out, he continued until no more snakes appeared.

It didn't take long.

Before the sun could pass overhead, he was finished.

Encrid had caught five snakes.

He attached each snake, gripped by its head, to a pouch made of thin leather.

Startled, the snakes released venom from their venom glands.

He repeated this process five times and then placed the remaining snakes into a thick leather bag.

"Constipation? It didn't come out for so long, I was about to check if I really got bitten by a snake."

It was the soldier he had spoken to earlier. He looked serious, as if genuinely concerned.

"Thanks to you, I'm feeling relieved."

Encrid replied casually and walked briskly away.

* * *

Right behind Encrid, near the barracks, the Squad Leader of that section had been doing piecework sewing since childhood.

With decent handiwork skills, this friend had learned sewing over his mother's shoulder, and he wasn't bad at it.

But he didn't think he could make a living from sewing, so he enlisted.

And there's more.

Especially love booze.

Encrid knew these things about the sewing squad leader.

He tossed the leather bundle in front of the squad leader, who was suffering from a hangover.

"You need something?"

His complexion wasn't great, but this guy's sewing was really worth it.

It wasn't the first time.

Threatening him with having drunk too much in front of the company commander would usually get him to half-ass the sewing.

"Can you make gloves and knee, elbow, and arm guards with this?"

"Why should I?"

The squad leader looked annoyed. A natural reaction. They hadn't interacted much before.

It was too urgent to persuade him properly.

Even starting now would be risky before the battle.

"Do you have some hidden booze?"

At that, the guy's expression changed, and he raised an eyebrow.

He had the temperament of a wild boar. He actually looked like one.

With that appearance, he had delicate sewing skills.

"If we soak this in it, it'll kill the taste."

Saying that, Encrid gently placed down the bundle of caught snakes.

They wriggled and danced on the leather. A mad dance.

"Snakes."

Without even looking inside, the guy said, "Ever tried snake booze?"

At that, the squad leader nodded as if it were obvious. "You know it kills the taste?"

Encrid hadn't tried it himself, but he knew from the hearty boozer.

"If you haven't tried it, you don't know the taste."

Saying it again, the squad leader vigorously nodded.

"I'll give you the snakes. Just make this."

"How did you know I'm good at sewing?"

"I heard it from the company commander the other day."

Never happened. It was something this guy had said while drunk.

Well, it wasn't important.

"Damn, blabbermouth."

While grumbling, he picked up the needle. It was a fair deal.

"Then'please."

"Yeah, fine, I got it."

His fellow soldier's eyes didn't stray from the snake pouch. Quite the snake liquor enthusiast, it seemed.

Encrid returned to the barracks, gathered the remaining items, and made his way to the spot where he had sparred with Rem.

No one was asking questions.

In such moments, the 444th Squad was preferable—a squad that also played the role of scapegoat.

Behind a sparse little grove where few people came and went, Encrid wore deer leather gloves and crushed white moonflowers with a rock. He repeated this until the white petals turned a dark green, then mixed in the snake venom.

Normally, this venom only induced itching, but when mixed with moonflowers, it changed.

On the seventy-seventh day of today, in front of a paralyzed Encrid, there was an enemy who laughed aloud.

What's good about telling how to make this?

So, after making it a few times, it was pretty good.

Smash the flowers, mix the venom, and put the resulting sticky green liquid on a flat, regular stone with a dagger.

The knife sparkled, reflecting a shiny green light.

"That's the end of preparation."

Thud! Thud!

"Each squad assemble!"

Inside the military camp, there was a loud scream.

After repeating today, Encrid was well aware of what was going on.

It was a call for combat orders.