Chapter 201 - What Are They Trusting In to Act Like This? (1)
"Uh, um, I want to be under you."
On a windy summer evening, in front of the barracks, the white-haired beastkin spoke.
"Under me?"
At the repeated question, Dunbakel chose her words carefully. In truth, what did it matter what happened now?
"A slave is fine, a body servant is fine. I'll do anything if you just let me stay under you."
If a Frog was blinded by some personal achievement or desire, a beastkin's eyes would go wild at the two words: procreation. So, her current words could be misunderstood.
"The continent is a wide place."
Enkrid was indirectly saying he wouldn't stop her if she left.
"If you just let me stay under you."
Dunbakel knelt. Her unkempt, greasy hair and the crown of her head were visible. A foul smell wafted from her. Seeing this, Enkrid's first thought was that he wanted to wash up and rest.
So, what should he do with her? In truth, it wasn't a matter for much thought. If she were coming in with the intention of stabbing him in the back…
'Would that even be possible?'
It seemed more likely that Jaxen would slit her throat before that. That was the feeling. Just a feeling. In reality, even if it wasn't Jaxen, Rem or someone else would surely strike her down if she showed any suspicious signs.
The fortunate thing was that she didn't seem to have any such malice. Sparing her had been a whim, to some extent. It had no meaning. So…
'If she has no malice.'
Enkrid thought of his squad as having ten members. A platoon usually has forty to fifty, and a company is a position responsible for one to two hundred.
'But my unit members.'
Rem, Ragna, Jaxen, Audin, Finn. Including himself, that made six. Isn't this way too many? So many that he wanted to check if Marcus's conscience was in the right place.
'If you're going to give me the rank of company commander, you should at least give me the personnel.'
Of course, only a few of them would probably survive. Would that bastard Rem just leave them be? He was suddenly reminded of Andrew. After that friend, Finn was the only new person.
Conclusion: the company was short on people, and Dunbakel's martial power was superior to that of a regular soldier. And from her current attitude, she was even submissive. A submissive beastkin is rare.
Amidst several complex thoughts, if he were to pinpoint one clear fact:
'Short on personnel.'
He could get the Battalion Commander's permission later, and if he said no, he could kick her out then.
"Alright."
"I will swear an oath to Krimhalt. If I swear as an outcast, that belief… huh?"
"Come in. There's a spare bunk. But wash up first."
To Dunbakel, it seemed like a bold decision. He didn't seem to hesitate at all.
'Did he intend to accept me from the beginning?'
That thought even crossed her mind. No, that wasn't it. There had been moments where it would have been fine for her to die. No, moments where it would have been fine to kill her. And yet, he didn't kill her and let her go. He was a man who kept his word.
"Joining the unit roster requires the commander's permission, so if he refuses, there's nothing I can do."
'It's settled.'
At Enkrid's words, Dunbakel thought there was no way she would be refused. If she were a commander and had a man like this under her, she would nod her head even if he brought ten body servants with him. Who would refuse?
"Don't even think about night service or anything like that. I have no interest. So, you're coming in as a soldier. If you want to be under me, then fight with a weapon in your hand. If you die fighting, I can't help it."
Enkrid said that much, then opened the barracks door and went inside. Dunbakel stood there, hesitating. She had wanted it, but courage was needed to actually act on it. And to accept what she had so longed for required even greater courage.
Was it okay for her to step inside?
'Someone like me?'
She had expected to be refused, of course. So she hesitated. As she faltered, the closed door of the barracks flew open.
"You coming?"
Beyond the open door, she saw blue eyes and black hair. The face, though it was strange to say about a man, was beautiful. The moonlight flowing from the determined blue of his two eyes crashed against his cheek and shattered.
In front of the barracks, a place where one could find no romance whatsoever, Dunbakel felt like she was about to cry. Why? What did the reason matter? It was just that no one had ever welcomed her before. It was the first time someone had told her to come in without any ulterior motives.
"I'm coming."
Her voice trembled. Dunbakel took a step inside.
They say that opportunities come in life, and a catalyst is needed. Dunbakel thought that meeting this man was just that. Even if others cast her out, she would endure it. Even if everyone ostracized and cursed her, she would bear it.
"I'm really curious."
As she entered, she saw a woman with orange hair. The woman was speaking to Enkrid.
"You actually like the nickname 'Demonic,' don't you? That's why you bring a woman back every time you go out, right?"
Hiss!
Right next to her, a panther even hissed.
Flinch!
As Dunbakel flinched at the sound, Rem said from the side, "It's okay, this panther doesn't bite well. Ah, it only bites that Bug-Eyes bastard. So if you don't touch him, it won't bite."
Why is there a panther in the barracks? Dunbakel was puzzled but then stopped thinking about it. And the atmosphere was not as hostile as she had expected.
"Stop talking nonsense and go wash her up. She stinks."
Enkrid spoke and then turned to organize his own things. He took out a thin linen shirt, seemingly to wash up. In the meantime, the orange-haired woman approached.
"You don't have a change of clothes, do you? You think they'll give us some if we ask at this hour? Should I ask in the commander's name?"
"You think they'll give them for that?"
"Then you think they won't!"
Finn said cheerfully and then led the way. It was late evening, and it seemed it would be a bright, moonlit night.
After leading Dunbakel out, Finn asked, "What's your name?"
"Dunbakel."
"I'm Finn."
She extended her hand for a handshake. To borrow an ancient phrase, a handshake was a process to prove that neither party held a weapon and would not harm the other. In the modern era, it was also an expression of becoming good friends.
As she grabbed her hand, Finn smiled and said, "But how long has it been since you washed?"
"Um, half a year?"
Beastkin do not enjoy bathing.
"Let's walk a little farther apart."
Following Finn's guidance, she entered the bathhouse, and Dunbakel soaked her body in the tub without complaint. She could see the water turning black, and from outside, Finn said she would leave some clothes. Dunbakel scrubbed her body with soap. Enkrid seemed to dislike bad smells.
After washing and changing her clothes, she returned to the barracks. The way was not difficult. Perhaps because it had been so long since she had washed, her body felt light.
"...You looked like that?"
As she entered the barracks, Enkrid asked.
"Why? Did something change?"
Dunbakel 괜히 lowered her gaze. A blouse that swelled due to her full chest and wide-legged pants. Do I look different because of the clothes?
"Never mind. That's your spot over there. Get some sleep. And wear some underwear from now on."
Is it really necessary to go to that trouble? Dunbakel thought, but she nodded. Enkrid waved his hand vaguely and pointed to one side. That was her spot.
And just like that, Dunbakel became a member of the Independent Company. No one brought up that the beastkin had been an enemy or a member of the Black Sword. No, even if they did, they didn't doubt her or push her away. Why? That was something she herself didn't know.
The air in the unit was icy, but Enkrid was the same as ever. He woke up, trained, and after the Isolation Technique, he briefly watched Finn get beaten up.
"So this is all the Ailkaraz-style martial arts amounts to, sister."
Audin of the hell-mouth was consistent today as well. A vein bulged on Finn's forehead.
After sweating profusely from the morning, he chugged water, and spread butter and orange marmalade on a piece of soft bread.
"Where did you get this?" Enkrid asked after taking a bite. The marmalade was exquisite. It was sweet and tangy.
Krais, who was chewing beside him, swallowed his bread and said, "A new shop opened across from the seasoned jerky place. A twenty-six-year-old woman with drab brown hair and a lot of freckles. Her name is Julie, she has no boyfriend, and her ideal type is somewhere between Commander Enkrid and Ragna. She really hates my type."
He looked at him, wondering why he was being so detailed.
"I know all the major figures in the city. That's the Gilpin Guild's job."
Is that right? But is someone who makes good marmalade—that is, fruit jam—a major figure?
"She is. You know since you've tried it."
Point taken.
As he was finishing his meal, Krais began to chatter from the side.
"Similar things will continue to happen."
"Similar things?"
"The surrounding areas won't just leave the Border Guard alone."
Enkrid stopped getting up and looked at Krais. His large eyes glanced at Dunbakel. Dunbakel was sitting blankly, staring into space. I should give her something to do, too.
He turned his gaze back to Krais, and he continued.
"By blocking Azpen, the kingdom has expanded its territory. Thanks to that, the military city of the Border Guard can become the central trading city of northern Naurillia, as well as a military city where a standing army is stationed. And it's in the process of becoming that right now."
Recently, the frequency of merchant caravans visiting had increased, and new goods were constantly arriving. The city's population had also grown.
"Julie said that when you make marmalade, you have to make a lot at once. But if it doesn't all sell, it's difficult to store. Fortunately, with more people coming and going, the jam sold well on its own."
That was the reason for opening the marmalade shop. Where does commercial viability come from? It is determined by the population and the number of people coming and going. It was common sense he now knew, thanks to Krais's constant chattering.
"So, how will the surrounding areas see the Border Guard?"
"Like a well-cooked barbecue or a ripe tomato."
If you have a knife in your hand, if you're ready to eat, all you have to do is put the knife to it. That was the Border Guard's position. A position that looked like a well-browned barbecue, so tempting you'd want to stick a knife in it even if it was a bit tough. How would the hungry see it? They would want to tear off a piece of flesh right away. The situation might improve a bit if the pioneer village Enkrid had saved grew and the trade routes expanded, but for now…
'The center of northern trade.'
According to Krais, that was the Border Guard's position.
"This is why there's a never-ending pack of hyenas around."
"When did you predict this?"
"Well, I had a bad feeling ever since we pushed back Azpen."
He knew since then… so did Marcus? He had acted so nonchalantly, asking if he loved the city as soon as he returned. The Battalion Commander knew of the city's crisis. Then he would also know how to escape it.
It was almost time for the meeting.
"I'm going."
"Let's protect the seasoned jerky and the marmalade, Commander," Krais said from behind. It didn't sound crazy. To Enkrid, those two foods were also quite precious.
The Battalion Commander's office had already become a meeting room. A map was spread out on a large table, and many chess-like pieces were placed on it.
"Have you grasped the enemy's numbers?"
"We're sending out reconnaissance teams every hour. From what we can see now, it's estimated to be more than two battalions of infantry."
"That's a lot," Marcus said with a bitter smile. It was not a look of fear. He definitely had something he was trusting in. But was it okay to say this in this situation? All the company commanders were gathered. Enkrid quietly stood by Marcus's side.
"Do you have something to say?"
"My company has less than ten members."
So what? his eyes said. He was a shameless Battalion Commander. Shouldn't he fill the ranks if he was going to make him a company commander?
"Can I add one person? It's the beastkin we captured before."
Her previous affiliation was the Black Sword bandit group. On the heels of having just lopped off the head of a bandit suspected of being a spy, he was now saying he would save a bandit and put her under his command. Come to think of it, he also had to talk about the noble bandit whose head he had lopped off.
"Do it."
'That's it?'
Is it just over like that?
"Tell the quartermaster about the roster and other details."
That was really it. He turned his head as if there was nothing more to say. He turned his head, thinking another company commander might object, but no one seemed to care. No, only the elf company commander mouthed the words.
'Did you seduce another woman?'
An elf joke. He ignored it.
He watched the meeting for a while. The enemy's formation, where they would fight, the numbers and the opponent's main units.
"Martai might use cavalry, but we don't have any."
If you added up all the horses in the Border Guard's stables, wouldn't there be about fifty? There were also a few horses prepared for urgent dispatches. But a cavalry unit was a different story. Except for a few, they were all pack animals. There's a saying that an untrained unit is a blade that stabs its own chest. So, it meant there could be a battlefield where they had to face mounted soldiers without cavalry.
"The commander of the Border Guard has just returned."
In the middle of the military meeting, the commander of the Border Guard returned. The story that followed was all as expected. That they had raided the Black Sword's main force. There was one unexpected story mixed in, though.
The Guard Commander suddenly said, "You've worked hard. I heard that a part of the Black Sword bandit group had ambushed Baronet Vansento beforehand. The Baron suddenly fled, so you lost your escort target. Losing the escort target can't be counted as an achievement, but it was a good job to stubbornly kill some of the Black Sword's guerilla forces and come back alive."
It was a theatrical tone. Marcus, hearing this, slammed his fist on the desk with a thump. A few pins that had been used to distinguish friend from foe fell over with a clatter. The pins rolled on the map.
"To kill a noble, how dare they! Those Black Sword bastards!"
Marcus showed excellent acting skills.
"So we immediately retaliated. If we hadn't followed behind just in case, who knows what would have happened."
The commander of the Border Guard was a bit awkward. Enkrid watched without smiling. At the end of it…
"Some of them attempted to flee, and we lost them. Please issue a disciplinary action."
"Ah, that's fine. We caught them."
After the play, Marcus continued with the real story and pointed to the side. To be precise, at Enkrid.
"He happened to run into them on his way and caught them."
That had happened. A gift package had arrived. A foolish man from the fleeing Black Sword main force.
"Really?"
An unprecedented favor flickered in the eyes of the commander of the Border Guard. He had said that losing the escort target was not an achievement, but looking at the eyes of the Battalion Commander and the commander of the Border Guard, he could tell for sure.
'It's a definite achievement.'
And an achievement recognized by the Battalion Commander, who had influence in the capital, and the man who was the real power in the current Border Guard. A few of the nobles' faces turned blue. They were quick-witted men.
"Let's all have a moment of silence for Baronet Vansento," the Battalion Commander said. He wanted the man named Vansento to die as a noble, not as a bandit spy. He mourned him, leaving him as a member of the kingdom in the end. It was a good thing for everyone.
So, handle it well? It was like he was saying that to the remaining noble bastards with the moment of silence. The quick-witted nobles would understand him well.
"Now, then, let's return to the meeting."
The commander of the Border Guard, drenched in fatigue, stood with dust on his pauldrons and became one of the people surrounding the table.
The meeting resumed. Marcus's plan was full of holes. He thought he had something he was trusting in, but he couldn't see anything like that, only an abundance of flaws.
'What in the world is he trusting in to act like this?'
It was a question that arose anew.