Torres had an uncanny ability to exploit any weakness if one let their guard down even for a moment.

He could read his opponent’s breathing and state as easily as he breathed himself.

When asked how he could do that, he replied,

“You just have to fight as many different kinds of opponents as possible. That’s the fastest way to become an elite soldier in a short time, and it’s the philosophy of the Border Guard.”

There wasn’t much to call a philosophy, so the last part of his statement was likely half a joke.

Torres chuckled.

Watching the flowing water, Encrid thought.

‘It’s different.’

Just as Rem and Ragna’s teachings were different.

Sparring with Torres and talking with him were different too.

The Fairy Company Commander was also different.

‘It’s diverse.’

There was something to learn from all of them. There wasn’t a single thing to miss.

Torres’ hidden knife might seem like a simple sleight of hand, but depending on how it was used, it could be a deadly move.

He also learned to deceive the opponent’s perception to make it effective.

It was Torres’ practical combat method.

“My father was a gambler, and he wanted to make me the second-generation gambler.”

Maybe that was the origin of the hidden knife technique.

To Encrid, it sounded like the result of excellent talent and relentless effort.

“Do you want me to teach you?”

It was just before the ferryman arrived.

“Isn’t it supposed to be a secret technique?”

“I’ll teach you if you want.”

Why was he doing this?

Encrid didn’t know. But he was used to seizing given opportunities rather than questioning the opponent’s change of heart.

He nodded.

“Alright. Watch closely. You hide it like this inside your sleeve.”

Then followed explanations on how to hide the knife, how to draw it just by flipping the palm, and more.

“You’re really clumsy.”

Torres complained about Encrid’s clumsy fingers.

But Encrid knew how to use the Focus Point technique when learning something, so he was better than before.

Definitely, he was several times better than before.

If he had been the previous Encrid, before learning the Focus Point technique.

‘Would I have given up already?’

Wouldn’t he have seen Torres shaking his head in disapproval?

Investing time in something that shows no potential is foolish.

“Order a custom knife from the blacksmith later. Until then, practice with thin stones or something.”

Torres said this while picking up thin stones himself and handing them to Encrid.

“You really are dull.”

He added another criticism.

Knowing this all too well, Encrid didn’t even bother to listen.

He had no luxury to live worrying about such comments in the first place.

“But you are consistent.”

Ignoring Torres’ words, Encrid tried several times, but of course, it wasn’t easy.

He focused as he hid the thin stone slab.

He let his sleeve hang down and tucked the stone inside. The key was to flick it by turning his hand from facing the sky to facing the ground.

Naturally, it wasn’t easy.

“It would be nice to have a practice sheath or something.”

That was Torres’ mumbling.

Usually, during practice, there is a special sheath for fixing a dagger inside the sleeve.

He said it would be good to use it before getting used to it.

“It’s an application of a technique gamblers call farming.”

Torres said as he watched Encrid training the technique.

“Farming.”

It’s a technique that requires a few conditions.

The blade had to be shorter than the length of an outstretched palm, and hiding it had to be done with precise timing, requiring time to practice just holding it.

‘It’s difficult.’

It’s several times harder than swinging a sword.

But it was better than getting used to a shield.

After spending time like that and sweating profusely from sparring again, they were resting when the ferryman arrived.

The ferryman came along the river path, a route patrolled regularly for monster extermination.

Thanks to that, the ferryman could come alone.

“They say they’re going to build a hut here after this year. Then the ferryman or a fisherman might settle here. It would be nice if a small fishing village could be formed.”

The ferryman was talkative. Encrid, who responded appropriately, listened to the creaking sound of the oar while looking at the river.

Pen-Hanil River.

It is the lifeline of not only the nearby villages but also the neighboring countries, including Naurillia.

In the distance, he could see low-growing grass and a few trees along the riverbank, and if he threw his gaze to one side, he could see a waterfall falling between rocky cliffs and a few huts built along the riverbank.

This side was a gravel road, but if he looked beyond, he could see grasslands that would turn green in spring.

“Hmm, the current is slow and the depth is shallow here, but those rocks are dangerous.”

The ferryman muttered to himself as he changed the direction of the boat.

A protruding dark gray rock was visible in the middle.

If the boat hit that, it would obviously be destroyed.

The boat leisurely drifted along the river and soon reached the other side.

“I’ll be off then.”

The ferryman left.

“Shall we wash up? We have some time before the meeting.”

Torres suggested, looking at the sun overhead.

“That sounds good.”

As the sweat cooled and dried on his skin, an unpleasant smell began to rise.

He didn’t know how many days the operation would last, but there was no need to start off feeling uncomfortable.

When there’s time, eating, sleeping, and washing are basic skills for a soldier.

“Alright then.”

Torres was the first to undress and immerse himself in the river.

The rippling river was a shade between blue and green, looking incredibly clear and clean.

Soon, Encrid also removed his gear piece by piece and stepped naked into the water.

As his feet touched the water, a cold sensation made his whole body shiver.

Torres, seeing this, widened his eyes.

“What the… what are you?”

What’s there to be surprised about here?

Torres started to say something, then looked down between Encrid’s legs and abruptly stopped, clamping his mouth shut.

Encrid also looked down between his own legs.

There was indeed something to be surprised about.

“You lucky bastard, having everything.”

Torres’ tone sounded like he was about to cry.

“You should’ve just had the face.”

“If you keep saying that, I’ll start feeling grateful to the parents I’ve never known.”

“Are you an orphan?”

“Yeah.”

Here, not knowing one’s parents isn’t special. Most of those who serve in the army are like that.

“Better no parents than ones who teach by hitting your palms.”

“Maybe.”

Encrid had never longed for parental affection. He just wanted to wield his sword during that time.

During a time when he had nothing, absolutely nothing.

The only things that sustained him were his dream of becoming a knight and the sword.

Would the world be kind to a child growing up as an orphan?

Of course not.

It’s not that kind of world. It’s a miracle he didn’t die.

The only reason Encrid survived was that the people in the village he stayed in were simple and kind.

‘A Knight.’

That was the only thing he looked towards. Instead of longing for affection, he dreamed of knighthood.

He dreamed to forget hunger.

He swung a stick as if it were a sword to forget the pain.

That’s why Encrid doesn’t long for affection.

Instead, he longs for the sword.

That dream was a result of it. The beginning of the dream of the former knight, Encrid.

A few people from his hometown, a place he could call home, flashed through his mind.

They weren’t people who cherished him like his parents.

But at least they weren’t people who would let him die.

Yet even such people get swept up in the war.

‘War devours everything.’

So it would be good if he could end that war.

What should he do to contribute to that?

‘The sword.’

Just swing and swing again.

That was the only way Encrid knew.

It was his parents, his brothers and sisters.

His dream and goal, his everything.

Bubbles rose to the surface of the water.

Encrid, lost in thought while submerged, felt Torres tap his shoulder underwater.

“Pwah.”

He exhaled and surfaced.

“They’re here.”

Torres spoke and glanced to the side.

Following his gaze, Encrid turned his head and saw a soldier standing with one leg slightly bent, and behind him, two soldiers holding clubs shorter than short swords.

At a glance, they looked armed like bandits or mountain thieves.

Clubs and worn leather armor.

The armament was light. Forsaking the thick fabric armor, the gambeson, meant they prioritized mobility.

Naturally, Encrid assessed the opponent’s strength.

It was something he learned through Audin and the Isolation Technique.

‘Good balance in both arms.’

Despite standing with one leg bent, his hands were relaxed and down by his sides.

When does someone take such a stance?

‘He might throw something if things go south.’

He seemed quite skilled with throwing weapons.

To prove it, a throwing hand axe dangled from his waist.

Judging by his level of training, he might have other skills as well.

The two soldiers behind him had daggers at their waists instead of axes, and aside from holding clubs, they didn’t stand out much.

‘Orange hair.’

Encrid’s gaze finally settled on the face of the lead soldier. Freckles and orange hair, a small build.

A female soldier.

“Feeling relaxed, are you? Enjoying your bath? Feeling refreshed?”

The soldier with orange hair greeted them in a cocky tone.

Watching this, Encrid realized anew that his sixth sense still needed development.

‘I didn’t sense them approaching.’

Perhaps it was understandable. He hadn’t expected anyone to come this far.

He was lost in thought while submerged in the water.

Had he been too complacent?

No, he had made at least minimal preparations.

They were right by the riverbank, and their gear was nearby.

It was also possible that these people were skilled at concealing their presence.

The orange-haired soldier, standing on relatively higher ground, spoke.

“Aren’t you coming out?”

Torres was the first to respond.

“Do you plan to keep staring?”

He added.

“There’s nothing to see.”

Harsh words.

Encrid thought as he stepped out. Water cascaded off his body with a splash.

Was Torres really only surprised by Encrid’s male attribute?

No.

The Isolation Technique had reshaped Encrid’s body entirely.

Audin’s teachings, engraved over repeated days, and the accumulated result of time were clearly visible on his body.

Muscles rippled along his split shoulders and down his taut arms.

As one’s gaze traveled down his solid chest, they would see his defined abs flex, and the muscles of his thighs splitting, greeting the soldier’s eyes.

Lastly, the prominent part in the middle caught the soldier’s gaze fully.

“…Seems like there’s something to see over there.”

Torres, who had been watching the situation closely, muttered in a tone of complaint.

“Ahem, put some clothes on.”

The orange-haired soldier said, clearing her throat.

Torres and Encrid left their sweat-soaked clothes and pulled out fresh clothes from their packs.

The worn clothes were salty enough to show salt crystals.

It would be good to wash them when there’s time.

With that thought, Encrid stood up, fully armed once more.

“Scout Platoon Leader Finn.”

The orange-haired soldier extended her fist as she spoke.

Torres stepped forward first.

“I’m Torres, Platoon Leader of the Border Guard.”

They bumped fists, and then the fist moved towards Encrid.

“Independent Platoon Leader Encrid.”

The Fairy Company Commander had curiously changed Encrid’s affiliation.

Since he couldn’t actually be given command of a platoon, he was taken out and assigned as an independent platoon under the company’s command.

“Independent Platoon? What’s that? Anyway, nice to meet you.”

Finn bypassed Encrid’s fist and tapped his abs.

“Nice abs.”

“I’d have nice abs too.”

Torres muttered beside them, making sure everyone could hear, so it wasn’t exactly to himself.

“Shall we talk while we walk? If we leave now, we can reach the campsite before sunset.”

The two soldiers behind Finn seemed to be her subordinates. They all saluted each other.

Soon, the group of five began to move.

As they walked, Finn finally shared the detailed mission objective.

“You didn’t come here without knowing where this is, right?”

“I heard it’s the land of monsters and beasts.”

Encrid replied.

With his excellent memory, he recalled what Enri had said.

The upper part of the Pen-Hanil River was known to be home to many monsters and beasts.

It’s a land that even skilled pathfinders and hunters tend to avoid.

“It’s also right in front of the Cross Guard.”

Finn continued in a stern tone.

“The original mission was to receive information through a cat. Well, that’s what it’s been until now.”

‘Cat’ was a spy’s code name.

A term commonly used on this continent.

Both nations had spies planted in each city.

That applied not only to Naurillia but also to Aspen.

Encrid had even fought and killed some of these spies, so their presence was nothing new to him.

“And the cat hasn’t contacted us for four days since the promised date.”

Finn spoke while walking. So what does that mean?

As Torres and Encrid listened intently, Finn continued.

“The order has come down for us to go in and rescue them. The cat’s last message mentioned obtaining important information.”

Encrid felt a thrilling sensation as his whole body shivered. Goosebumps rose as a warning of danger coursed through him.

This was.

‘Dangerous.’

It’s not just dangerous.

You will die. You will definitely die several times.

His instinct, honed through countless experiences, told him so.

If they followed what this woman Finn was saying, it meant they had to infiltrate inside the Cross Guard.

“Whew, it’s a damn mission, right? Damn it, I know. But there is a way, there is.”

Finn finally smiled faintly.

It was a self-deprecating smile.

Encrid had already realized it when he fell into the wizard’s trap.

Can you survive today by running away?

The answer was ‘no’.

Whether you stay up all night, just fall asleep, or run away all night to another place.

The result is the same.

It would only add to the body’s fatigue.

What he realized was that it was unavoidable.

And if it was unavoidable, the only option was to enjoy it.

Encrid also smiled. It was a different kind of smile from Finn’s.

It was a smile of joy and excitement, revealing his anticipation.

Seeing this, Finn raised her eyebrows and said,

“They sent a crazy bastard from the main unit?”

Torres nodded, half in earnest.

Even he thought Encrid wasn’t normal.

He was tense himself, but this guy…

Of course, Encrid was also tense.

But more than that, his mindset was different as he faced a new tomorrow.

‘Overcome.’

Overcoming obstacles, that meant growth, which is why he smiled with joy.

Of course, he would struggle fiercely. He would do his best to avoid being trapped in ‘today’.

That didn’t mean it wasn’t terrifying.

He just looked beyond that.

As Encrid walked, his shoulders were tense.

A mix of nervousness and anticipation.

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