Chapitre 162: Chapter 303 - "Why, Not 'Really.'"
Chapter 303 - "Why, Not 'Really.'"
"Who is he?"
Graham adjusted his posture at his subordinate's question. A sharp pain ran from his back to his head.
Shinar.
He had heard that the fairy gave Enkrid some ointment for his wounds.
But he was the lord of the castle, wasn't he? If nothing else, he'd been a long-time companion, hadn't he?
So why was it that not even a single root or scrap of herb made its way to him?
Graham brushed aside the errant thought and answered.
"Who?"
"The Green Pearl commander," the subordinate clarified.
One subordinate was clueless and dull, but the other was more than average. Even their questions were different.
'Or is it relative?'
Maybe the clueless subordinate just made the other one seem sharp. Even so, he couldn't dismiss the clueless one.
People could go to surprising lengths for others.
That subordinate wouldn't stake his life for Graham, but he might sacrifice an arm to save him. That made him indispensable.
"Garrett Gairo."
Graham named the man who had once been his superior but now held equal rank.
The name didn't exactly roll off the tongue.
Garrett's battalion had been the second reserve unit of the Border Guard, but thanks to their victory at the Battle of Green Pearl, they had become a new battalion entrenched on the Green Pearl Plain.
"He's said to be an opportunist, willing to do anything for his gain. Rumors abound that the reason Aspen hasn't launched an attack is because Garrett has already switched sides."
As if only Enkrid had heard such rumors.
Graham suddenly felt an itch in his ear and scratched it with his pinky.
"Think someone's talking about me?"
He suspected the clueless subordinate he'd sent out earlier.
"If Aspen pushes forward, the city will be in danger too, Commander."
Graham, both the commander and the lord, nodded.
"Who doesn't know that?"
What could be said about Garrett Gairo?
"Has he betrayed us? I don't think so. If I were to bet Krona, I'd wager he hasn't."
He was a shrewd and cunning man, but betrayal wasn't his game.
"Why do you think Marcus stationed him there?"
***
The battalion commander was a striking man with dull blond hair.
He appeared to be in his middle years, striding forward with purpose.
Enkrid instinctively measured the distance.
Two and a half paces.
If needed, his sword could reach in less than a heartbeat.
"If you judge him an enemy, cut him down, subdue him, or dominate him outright. Then immediately seize control of his forces."
That was what Krais had said before Enkrid left, and Enkrid had agreed.
He subtly shifted his left foot forward, ready.
He could thrust quickly, or if the man struck first, counter with a snake-like deflection. His right arm, partially healed, was good enough for that.
With the right hand deflecting and the left thrusting, Enkrid was prepared for anything.
He held all options open as he faced the battalion commander.
Behind the man stood some archers, infantry, and guards—all showing strange tension.
Garrett Gairo closed the distance with large strides.
"Graham, you sly bastard!"
Then he bellowed, his tone carrying a peculiar energy.
"I missed you!"
Garrett's booming voice rang out.
Thorough, opportunistic, and willing to do anything for profit—such was the common assessment of Garrett.
But this... didn't seem to fit.
"You're better-looking than me, Graham! How about that?"
"Quite handsome, sir," answered one of the guards, a dark-skinned woman.
The battalion commander, Garrett, was a man who knew how to laugh—a bright, unrestrained laugh at that.
And he added with a grin:
"You're officially the most handsome in the Border Guard now."
"Confirmed," Krais muttered from behind. The tension and worry that had been etched onto his face earlier seemed to dissipate into thin air with that anticlimactic comment.
Enkrid himself relaxed slightly.
If this were all calculated, the man would be more devious than Jaxen himself.
Of course, Jaxen would never admit to that comparison if he heard it.
"Come on in."
Garrett turned his back to them. Even if he hid his skill, turning one's back had its implications.
Garrett wasn't a traitor. Enkrid understood this on both an instinctive and rational level.
"Still, be cautious," Krais whispered from behind.
What if he was luring them in to trap them after they entered?
But for such a plan...
He seems far too careless.
Enkrid scratched his chin and followed Garrett inside.
If Rem were here, he might have called him a bold fellow.
But Rem, Audin, and Theresa had been left behind.
"Someone has to guard the rear. If things go south, we'll need someone to run for it," Krais had explained.
Enkrid's reasoning, however, had been different.
"If you're planning to die in battle, fine. Otherwise, why bother?"
Everyone had taken injuries. When it was time to rest, they needed to rest.
"This stuff heals with a little spit," Rem had protested but had still liberally applied the fairy's ointment.
He had even eyed Jaxen's herb collection, nearly starting a fight.
"That fairy ointment is too fine for your hide. Go smear yourself with some mud instead," Jaxen had remarked.
Breaking up fights had become second nature by now.
"Stay behind."
Enkrid issued the command with a tone that left no room for debate, effectively cutting off any attempt at resistance. Even invoking the force of their 'Will,' he ensured his decision was final.
It was a display of sheer determination.
"If you die out there, I'll personally take up the axe of vengeance."
Rem gave up first, while Audin simply chuckled, though it didn't seem to stem from amusement.
"It's because I'm weak," Audin muttered in self-deprecation, attempting to prick Enkrid's conscience.
"Exactly. So why not focus on getting stronger?" Enkrid countered smoothly, turning the jab into a quip. After all, wasn't his silver tongue already at the level of a knight?
"If you think you can win a battle of words with him, you're just asking to get crushed, bear-brain. Take it from me—just keep that tongue of yours still around him," Rem advised from the side.
Unsurprisingly, Audin ignored him and began muttering a prayer.
"Did you see the arrogance of our small, pitiful commander? Father, even if he ascends to heaven, please don't be too harsh on him."
A prayer that danced on the fine line between blessing and curse.
"Thanks for the benediction," Enkrid quipped, delivering a parting shot that sealed his victory.
Audin could only laugh and shake his head. Enkrid, sensing that further teasing might provoke the man into challenging him outright, held back additional remarks, though he had plenty more he could have said.
Only Theresa refrained from opposing him, likely because her injuries were too severe. Nevertheless, she expressed satisfaction at having killed the Wolf Bishop, her words carrying a weight of personal vindication.
Although Enkrid didn't know the full story, it was clear their relationship had been anything but amicable.
"You did well."
With that praise, he left behind Rem and Audin, kept in place through a combination of force and words. Now he journeyed with Esther, the mage; Krais, who was ready to flee at the slightest provocation; the ever-silent Ragna; and Jaxen, who outright stated he was glad to have left Rem behind without so much as a hint of humor.
"Feels like someone doused my face in oil," Jaxen muttered.
Oh, and Shinar was there as well. The Fairy Company Commander was carrying a few scratches, but nothing severe.
"He's got a greasy look about him," Shinar said quietly, referring to Garrett. Though the remark seemed odd—Garrett's appearance was more in the "handsome" category than anything else.
"Really?"
It was fortunate Garrett hadn't heard the comment. Then again, even if he had, he seemed the type to brush it off.
He was proving to be an enigmatic figure.
"Now, you're technically my superior," Shinar said.
"And I'm perfectly fine with that."
Throughout the journey, Shinar had emphasized the importance of issuing orders with authority.
"Is this some kind of personality that enjoys being dominated by commands from a superior?"
Unable to suppress his curiosity, Enkrid asked.
"Being dominated by one's betrothed, huh? Intriguing. I wonder what that would feel like."
What absurdity.
Even for a fairy-style joke, this was pushing the limits.
"It's just a joke."
Shinar's expression remained devoid of humor. Her insistence on altering his tone wasn't entirely whimsical or strange—it was rooted in practicality.
"If the chain of command breaks down, it'll cause problems," she explained.
That was the real reason.
"Fair enough."
Sometimes, it seemed Shinar didn't fully grasp the influence of her presence. Every gesture, every step, every word—she carried herself in a way that commanded respect and reminded everyone that she was a fairy.
"How old are you? If you're younger than me, I'll stop being so formal."
"The chain of command doesn't concern me," Enkrid replied with a smirk.
As they entered the encampment established in Green Pearl, Enkrid took in the sight.
"This looks like a small village."
Massive logs had been cut to form defensive walls, and though most of the dwellings were tents, there were scattered wooden buildings as well. Some structures appeared abandoned mid-construction, likely due to the war and the onset of winter.
"If only we could've held out until next winter. Then, the village could've been properly established."
Garrett made the comment as they approached the largest tent in the center of the camp.
Inside, Garrett sat at a large table, flanked by several guards. Among them was a tall black woman with dark skin—a rare sight in this region, though more common in the eastern parts of the continent.
"I've been dying to meet you," Garrett said abruptly, his words catching Enkrid off guard.
"I've heard all about that battle—Green Pearl, the war, everything. Tell me more—"
"Commander."
The woman called Nurat interrupted, bowing slightly at the waist.
"Ah, now's not the time for this, is it?"
"No, it is not."
"Aspen is on our doorstep, Commander," added another guard, a large man with a chiseled jaw and a tightly clenched expression.
"Yes, that's a personal matter for later."
Garrett's demeanor shifted in an instant. His smile remained, but something in his presence changed. It was as if his very aura had twisted.
Krais reacted involuntarily, as if he sensed the stakes were suddenly much higher.
It was a shift akin to the intensity Audin displayed when confronting blasphemy, or the sharpness of Ragna's focus when he prepared for battle.
"Personally, I think our best option is to cut our losses and retreat. What do you think?"
Enkrid noticed Krais twitch at Garrett's words. Clearly, this was a sentiment he enjoyed hearing.
"Why?" Enkrid asked.
"Because I can't predict what the enemy will do."
"That's your reason?"
"It's a reason."
This time, Krais interjected, likely feeling this was his moment to shine. Enkrid didn't stop him, even nodding slightly to encourage him. Garrett's gaze shifted to Krais with interest.
"A sharp one, eh? What's your name?"
"Krais."
"In my life, I never imagined a moment where I'd ask for the name of a man over two beautiful women. Well then, Krais, care to explain?"
Garrett's tone carried a distinct rhythm. It wasn't unpleasant to listen to—it almost sounded like a melody.
Though Krais had already explained this once before, he decided it was worth summarizing his points again.
"Whether it's the Black Blade or the cultists, Aspen merely observed while we fought at the front."
"And that's supposed to mean something?"
Shinar, who had been quietly observing, spoke up. While Enkrid was the official commander, Shinar's rank was arguably on par with his.
"Even just the voice of a fairy has the quality of an instrument."
Garrett, seemingly unable to resist spouting nonsense, chimed in.
Shinar, as expected, ignored him entirely.
"It does mean something. If everything were as it seemed, Aspen would've attacked us first. But instead, they've just been watching. It's winter now, and we've secured a supply route to Green Pearl. It's not entirely stable, but it's enough for us to defend this position. Even without a fortress, we can hold the line. How many watchtowers do we have?"
"Eight," Garrett answered.
"Spread out?"
"Compactly placed."
Their rapid exchange made it difficult for the others to follow. Enkrid simply waited—surely, they'd explain things again later.
"And Aspen? Their supply lines? Their advance? Their encampments?"
Krais continued to press. His questions, however, were rhetorical, intended to emphasize a point.
Supplying, advancing, and setting up camps were not trivial tasks. Those who prepared ahead of time had a significant advantage over those who didn't.
"Given that the odds are in their favor, why hasn't Aspen made a move? They had every reason to."
Krais was starting to suspect that Aspen had a mastermind on their side.
Otherwise, none of this made sense.
"They must have a plan," he concluded.
"Exactly," Garrett agreed. "Honestly, I thought they might just retreat after sitting around and watching, but nope, that's not it."
"They're coming?"
"They are."
"How fast?"
"Slowly."
"That's not good."
"It isn't."
From the back, Nurat bent slightly to address her commander.
"None of us can follow this conversation."
"Krais, speak in the common tongue," Enkrid interrupted tactfully.
Garrett gestured toward Krais, who began explaining in simpler terms.
Aspen hadn't seized the high ground or moved quickly. Instead, they were advancing steadily and deliberately.
There were two possible reasons for this.
"One, they've already gained a full understanding of our forces," Krais began.
"Two, they're confident they can win," Garrett finished.
The two exchanged glances, then, as if on cue, lightly clapped their hands together in agreement.
The sound echoed inside the tent.
"Commander," Nurat said again, bowing.
"Oh, right, now's not the time to celebrate?"
"No, it isn't."
Garrett was an odd character, but at least he seemed sharp and loyal.
Enkrid refrained from smacking Krais upside the head.
"So, what happens if we retreat? If we just run away like this?"
"The city falls, we become war criminals, and we're dragged to the kingdom's tribunal. So yeah, running isn't really an option anymore," Garrett replied, even though the question was directed at Krais.
When the two raised their hands again, Enkrid pressed down on Krais's head and spoke firmly.
"Then come up with a plan to win."
Thinking wasn't his strong suit—that was Krais's domain.
"It's not like solutions just pop out of thin air. First, we need to analyze the surrounding terrain—"
"Nurat," Garrett interrupted.
At his command, a map was brought out—a military map outlining the area's geography.
"Any issues with our supply lines?"
"None. For the enemy to interfere, they'd have to break through the narrow path guarded by four watchtowers."
As Krais and Garrett continued their conversation in their own little world, Enkrid gave up and stepped back.
He observed for a moment longer but realized it was a miracle if he understood even half of what they were saying.
By the time he looked again, Shinar had already stepped outside.
Enkrid followed her, eager to breathe in the crisp mountain air.
The tent's interior was stifling, with oil burning in the brazier.
Outside, he noticed Ragna standing in the distance, quietly watching him.
There was a look in Ragna's eyes that suggested he wanted to say something.
Enkrid approached him, and Ragna tilted his head slightly, gazing beyond the wooden palisade at the sky as he asked,
"Why do you want to be a knight?"
The question was sudden.
But it was also a delightful one.
It wasn't do you really want to be a knight?
It was why do you want to be a knight?
The nuance carried a completely different weight.
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