Ragna stood alone outside, reflecting on his past.
"A thousand tis. Don't even think about coming back in until you've done it."
A thousand downward swings of the sword. It didn't seem impossible.
But Ragna wondered, Why must I swing a sword?
His arms hurt. His body ached. It wasn't enjoyable. Was it ever fun when he first picked up a sword?
He couldn't tell. He couldn't rember.
"Why? Why are you even asking that? As a man of the Yohan family, it's what you're supposed to do."
They called it natural. But could that really count as a reason?
The sa tasks repeated endlessly.
Why must he do it?
"Uphold the Yohan family's honor."
Why?
"Beco a knight."
Why beco a knight?
"Kill."
Why kill?
From childhood, Ragna had struggled to find his path.
For him, finding his way was the most challenging thing of all.
And why was that so hard?
Because he didn't know the right path. He didn't know any path. Ragna lacked a destination.
That's why he was always asking.
How could a man like Enkrid be so certain?
Surely, everyone questions their path at least once.
Is the road they're walking the right one? Are their reasons valid? Does it make sense as a purpose for living?
But Ragna had never seen confusion or uncertainty in Enkrid's eyes.
People occasionally waver. But not Enkrid.
He was always resolute. That's why Ragna had to ask:
Why do you want to be a knight?
Enkrid looked at Ragna, habitually scratching his chin.
The answer was obvious.
But whether it was the answer Ragna wanted—that, he didn't know.
"Honestly, Rem's easier to deal with," he thought.
Rem was flexible in his thinking. While his madness obscured it, his mind bent without breaking.
Audin was steadfast. His ntal fortitude was unparalleled, solid as tempered steel.
"At first, he seed unstable," Enkrid reflected.
Audin still wavered at tis, but it was the refined wavering of a tempered resolve—a strength that assured he wouldn't break.
Jaxen was steady. Detached, even cold. He rarely displayed passion, but at tis, there was a smoldering intensity beneath his cool deanor.
This was how Enkrid saw his subordinates.
And Ragna?
"A blade that cuts through anything but could just as easily snap," he thought.
Ragna was unstable and precarious. A man who epitomized talent, yet wielded his gifts with dangerous uncertainty.
Enkrid didn't deliberate over his words.
He didn't see the need.
He simply tapped his chest and said, "Because it tells to."
Ragna froze. For a mont, it seed he forgot how to breathe, holding his breath for what felt like an eternity.
Finally, he exhaled, steadying himself before speaking.
"That's why you want to be a knight?"
When he was younger, it was a dream. Later, it beca a burning ambition. At one point, it was a desperate longing. Now, it was the road he had walked and would continue to walk.
A knight who would bring the war to an end. The subject of a bard's song.
If he had to articulate it, that would be the reason.
But at its core, the reason was simpler.
His heart told him to.
Saving children, protecting the weak, keeping promises—it was all the sa.
There couldn't be just one reason to want to be a knight.
That's why this was his answer:
"Does my 'why' even matter?"
He responded to the question with a question.
Ragna fell into thought again.
Though his eyes were on Enkrid, his mind was drifting elsewhere. Enkrid could tell.
Rem, Audin, Jaxen, Ragna—they were all the sa. They looked to him for answers, to find sothing. Even Esther was like that.
If Enkrid lacked this level of intuition, he wouldn't have made it as their chaotic squad leader. He would've ended up as a crow's al in so forgotten corner of the battlefield.
"I'm heading back in," he said.
It was a pleasant question, and Enkrid thought his answer was equally pleasant.
Still, he felt an absurd worry that if he left Krais alone, he and Garret might start plotting so elaborate escape plan.
As he re-entered the tent, Ragna's voice stopped him.
"When the fight's over, let's have a duel."
"As much as you want."
"I'm betting more than half my life on it."
It was a serious challenge.
"As much as you want," Enkrid repeated and stepped into the tent.
Left alone, Ragna quietly felt the explosion erupting inside him.
It was like a volcano about to burst.
Sothing boiling in his lower abdon surged upward, pounding against his chest.
Why am I alive?
When the question of why he swung his sword touched on the reason for his existence, Ragna lost his will.
He beca idle, a lost sheep.
Had he not t a shepherd, he might have remained that way forever.
Ragna spoke into the empty air, "Let's have a match."
No response ca. The person who could answer had already disappeared into the tent.
Ragna turned his attention inward, focusing on the sound from within.
It was the voice of his heart, the cries of his inner world.
"Hey, can you hear now?"
He could. The screams he'd long ignored now rang clear with reproach.
At so point, even fighting formidable opponents stopped being enjoyable.
"It's just killing."
He didn't see it as crossing blades but rely following a prescribed path to take lives. It wasn't a duel—it was labor.
That said, Ragna felt no guilt over the killings.
Anyone who raised a weapon must accept the risk of death.
His opponents also carried swords; they bore the sa burden.
Ragna always believed he would die naless in so barren field. But life rarely unfolds as expected.
"You idiot, do you get it now?"
Listening to the chastisent from within, Ragna smiled.
A grin spread across his face.
"Ah, yeah, I get it," he muttered aloud.
Through his inner turmoil, Ragna confronted his desires. He acknowledged his yearning. He found his path.
He wanted to fight against soone who made his heart race.
"I want to face soone who pushes to my limits."
Unbeknownst to him, Shinar had stepped out of the tent so ti ago and overheard their entire exchange.
With the hearing of a fairy, even distant conversations couldn't escape her.
To her, Ragna's question had seed odd, and Enkrid's response even stranger.
And now, Ragna's muttered soliloquy only added to the peculiarity.
It was all so bizarre.
And yet, Shinar felt inexplicably delighted as she listened to their conversation.
She couldn't explain why, but simply overhearing it left her feeling warm and lighthearted.
It had been a long ti since she felt such emotions, and without realizing it, a smile crept onto her face.
A smile she'd never let anyone see.
***
Staring at the map, Krais analyzed the terrain.
In his mind, he sorted through dozens of potential scenarios, isolating the most probable ones.
"It's not enough."
Their forces were insufficient, and the enemy's information remained scarce.
"How do we win? No, surviving is already a victory in this fight."
As long as the palisade didn't fall, it might be enough. The answer was clear: defense. Not an advance, but fortification.
"No, that's not it."
If they relied solely on defense, they'd lose. Aspen wasn't a coalition of fools.
If the enemy had been imbeciles, they would have attacked recklessly already.
As thoughts cascaded and tangled in his mind, Krais sighed.
"That's why this doesn't work. Well, the best option is defense."
Garret, the battalion leader, interjected. Sowhere behind them, Nurat's aide mumbled sothing incomprehensible.
It didn't register.
This wasn't the first ti Krais had felt overwheld during this battle. He could have run and spared himself this burden.
"Why do we have to defend this city?"
Why couldn't they simply flee?
The most important thing in this world was one's own life.
Second was Krona.
Third, perhaps, was Enkrid.
In the end, it was all because of their commander.
"Ah, forget it."
Krais finally raised both hands in surrender. This unexpected strategy eting had stretched for hours, leaving him drenched in sweat.
When he glanced back, Enkrid was standing there, having returned at so point and silently observed.
"The best option is defense, holding out until winter passes. But do you think Aspen doesn't realize that?"
Garret asked, breaking the silence.
"That's why their slow advance is concerning," Krais replied. It was a repetitive process of articulating the sa thought to uncover a solution.
When Krais and Garret first t, their dialogue had gone like this:
"What's their pace?"
"Slow."
"That's bad."
"Yeah, it is."
Why was it bad?
Because moving slowly while knowing the advantage of defense ant Aspen had sothing up their sleeve.
Enkrid, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke up.
"What's the worst-case scenario?"
"A dragon suddenly descending and spewing fire over our heads," Krais responded without missing a beat.
"Dragons are absurd. That's impossible," Nurat interjected.
Garret didn't stop him. Krais continued, "Or the sudden appearance of knight-level forces."
"We've tracked the movents of all knight-level threats," Garret assured.
"Judging by their speed, the army could arrive in four to five days at most. In the anti, we'll need to organize scouting parties and hold our ground."
Enkrid also studied the map, morizing the terrain. His mory had been sharp since childhood, and his experience as a pathfinder made this task second nature.
"What do we need most right now?"
"Variables," Krais answered imdiately.
If you don't know what's in a box, shake it. That was Krais's philosophy. But what kind of variable could they create now?
Would they have to sacrifice soldiers to gauge the enemy's reaction?
That would just be stupidity.
So, what could they do? Attack their supply lines? That wouldn't work either. The enemy's slow advance was deliberate, ensuring thorough preparation.
Aspen's forces were so ticulous they seed to probe every pebble along their path.
A continental adage stated, "If striking the stone bridge doesn't suffice, turn back." If sothing felt off, don't proceed, no matter how long it took.
Their opponent exemplified this philosophy.
Thus, the best options were endurance and disruption.
"Sotis, observing reactions can reveal intentions," Krais remarked.
"A good approach, but not an easy one," Garret replied, folding his arms.
Nurat chid in, "They're advancing so slowly and flawlessly, leaving no openings. We even sent a ranger unit to strike their supply lines, but none returned."
Enkrid nodded. What else could he do?
"Rest and prepare."
"That's settled then." Garret nodded as if he agreed with the statent.
"After this battle is over, could you tell so stories from the past?"
After the eting ended, Garret approached with these words.
What is he? He was not an ordinary man.
It was him who had set up the stronghold in Green Pearl and organized the army as soon as Aspen appeared. His preparedness was solid and impressive.
"What stories are you talking about?"
"The ones about battles, incidents from the troubleso squad, the mont you beca the company commander, the battles from that ti, and all the past events."
Garret's eyes sparkled with excitent. He looked eager for the stories, like soone waiting for a good ti. Enkrid scratched his chin.
Once the battle ends, there would be many things to do.
Surviving first seed like the most important thing.
It was sothing Enkrid also had to think about.
If Aspen ca out like this, what could be done to make the enemy commander's life difficult?
"Sure, later."
He answered casually, lost in thought. Garret seed satisfied with that and nodded.
Was it a good thing that Garret wasn't a traitor?
Enkrid thought his best option would have been to defect. If he had joined Aspen's side and pointed a sword at this side, wouldn't that have been much easier?
Enkrid didn't hide his thoughts and asked directly.
"Why didn't you defect if running away and fleeing are the answers, and if you're likely to be treated as a war criminal? I'm sure Aspen offered you that option."
It could be considered a delicate question, but Garrett didn't seem to care.
"Romance."
"Pardon?"
"Because romance is here."
What could romance be?
Garret's dream was to be a poet. He was quite skilled at handling rhythm and ter.
For him, everything that happened in Border Guard was material. It was a story. It was romance. It was his dream.
Especially, Enkrid was like the protagonist of a play to him.
He was an enthusiast for heroes. So, he couldn't help but like Enkrid, even if Enkrid didn't do anything.
The more he learned, the more he realized that Enkrid was pulling off unbelievable feats one after another.
"It would be a hundred tis more fun to live and die this way."
Garret laughed. In a way, he was a madman, much like Enkrid.
So, if he were to get inspiration for a romantic poem today, he wouldn't mind dying tomorrow.
Enkrid didn't know everything in detail, but he instinctively understood that this man would not betray them.
If the sword of betrayal had been drawn, there wouldn't even be a eting like this.
"You're similar to the boss."
"To whom?"
"To the boss."
Krais, from the side, tapped Enkrid's head with his finger. Enkrid found it unpleasant and elbowed Krais on the head.
"Ow!"
Krais grabbed his head and rolled around. Nurat, seeing this, rushed to his side to help.
"Are you okay?"
"Oh, Nurat, right? How about we talk over a cup of tea?"
Even in this situation, he was flirting with won. Yeah, that's Krais for you. He wasn't panicking or losing his composure, so it was actually better this way.
Whether it was because he had given up or thought he had a chance, Enkrid couldn't say for sure.
Enkrid stepped out of the tent. He was going to take a look at the fortifications that Garret had set up.
As he was observing the fortifications, he saw a group of soldiers gathered around.
They were roasting sothing over a fire, and the sll was incredible.
As he got closer, he saw long pieces of at skewered on sticks.
On one side, they were brushing on seasoning, and on the other side, they were grilling it.
The division of labor was impressive.
"Let's sit together."
Enkrid squeezed into the group.
"What's this? Haven't seen you around."
"I just joined today."
Most of the soldiers didn't know Enkrid's face.
This was the supply corps. They were all handling sothing with practiced hands.
Garrett's unit was like this. His specialty was support, not combat.
"Give one."
There was a female soldier among them, and she openly looked at Enkrid's face. It was natural for her to show a friendly attitude. Enkrid's face could be used as a weapon sotis.
"Stop staring. You'll wear your eyes out."
The soldier who was seasoning the at scolded her.
"Hey, it's my eyes. Let enjoy it a bit. I've been rotting away looking at you guys every day."
"Shut up."
They were joking with each other, but it was clear they got along well. Despite the teasing, their teamwork was perfect.
Enkrid squeezed himself between them and sat down.
Even though they had laid thick blankets on the ground, there was still a chill in the air.
Soon, the grilled at was ready. He took a bite.
He thought it was snake at, but as soon as he bit into it, the at lted in his mouth.
"What's this?"
When he asked, the soldier who was roasting the at smiled and answered.
"It's good for n."
Enkrid judged that these soldiers were better than Martai's baking squad.
It tasted that good.
One more thing he realized was that Garrett was excellent at managing his unit.
'They may not be great at fighting, but...'
There was a sense of ease among the soldiers. It was a well-managed unit.
Enkrid grabbed a few more pieces of at and ate them.
"You're eating well."
The female soldier remarked. Enkrid just nodded and kept stuffing his mouth with at.
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