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When they returned to their quarters, the squad members looked like baby birds waiting for their mother.

“Prepare yourselves.”

One word conveyed the situation.

“Oh, I knew it. I knew the Squad Leader would make it happen!”

“Good.”

Rem and Jaxon added a few words, and the others started to move as well.

Even if it was rough, they needed to gather their equipment.

“For now, wait. Orders will come soon.”

“Alright.”

No matter what was said now, the mood would be warm. It was rare for the entire squad to be united like this.

Thump.

Even when Ragna and Rem bumped into each other while moving, they both passed by without a word. No sharp remarks were exchanged.

“You sly alley cat, don’t you have a spare cloak? It’s damn cold.”

Rem particularly disliked the cold.

Jaxon shook his head at Rem’s words.

Under normal circumstances, a fight would have broken out, but it passed smoothly.

‘They do get along.’

How nice would it be if they could always step back and live like this?

Of course, it was just wishful thinking.

Encrid sat on his bed, watching the busy squad members.

Soon, someone sent by the Company Commander arrived.

“What did you do to get the entire squad assigned to the operation?”

It was the 4th Platoon Leader, sent by the Company Commander.

“We’re trying to track down the trail of the assassin. The Thieves’ Guild.”

“…Be careful. Even a knight’s grandfather can’t dodge a knife in the back. Thieves are dangerous.”

The Platoon Leader shared his concern with a long piece of advice.

A knife in the back.

Once, a general who ruled the continent died by the dagger of a subordinate he trusted.

A very long time ago, not quite a legend but a story that couldn’t even be called history.

An event that might have actually happened.

As Encrid nodded in acknowledgment,

“No, a knight can avoid it.”

Ragna said.

“Even if it’s not a knight, one can avoid it.”

Jaxon agreed.

“If you get stabbed helplessly from behind, you’re an idiot.”

Rem concluded.

As soon as the Platoon Leader finished speaking, the three of them fired back.

“Let’s not talk about it.”

The Platoon Leader shook his head and left.

Anyway, permission was granted.

“Let’s go.”

Encrid spoke as he stood up. The weather had gotten even colder than yesterday, making the inside of the quarters feel like an icebox.

As for equipment, all Rem had was a single hand axe.

Ragna had an arming sword he had previously swapped with Encrid.

Jaxon only had a short sword that appeared to be his sole weapon.

Audin carried two short, oil-soaked, and dried clubs tucked into his waist.

“Stealing is bad. Let’s go teach them a lesson.”

Audin spoke up as he stepped forward. Rem chuckled at his words.

“That’s right. It is bad.”

Though their equipment was simple, Jaxon was bundled up in thick fur clothing, making him look bulky.

Ragna wore a tattered, hole-ridden cloak made from layers of cloth that even a passing beggar wouldn’t covet.

But the most impressive sight was Rem.

“Are you really going like that?”

Jaxon’s attire was within acceptable limits, and Ragna’s could be considered passable with a generous perspective.

But what was this?

Rem had wrapped himsfairy entirely in a blanket. He looked like a walking bedroll, with no intention of even extending his arms, only his toes peeking out.

“I hate the cold.”

Would he listen if they tried to dissuade him?

Encrid chose an efficient approach. He ignored Rem.

“Let’s go.”

The ragtag squad set off towards the marketplace.

“This seems dangerous.”

Krais muttered to himsfairy as he followed. Faced with the choice of either shoveling snow until his arms swelled or taking a risk, he chose the risk.

He really despised shoveling snow.

* * *

No matter the battle, Encrid had a long-standing habit of reflecting on it repeatedly afterward as a means of survival.

This time was no different.

The half-fairy drew attention with a whistling knife and Rotten.

‘A trick.’

Simple but effective as a distraction.

The plan was then to engage in close combat.

With just one move, a decisive strike intended to end the fight.

For some reason, the half-fairy had a fascination with hearts.

This allowed Encrid to predict the target area and, through repeated encounters, he had become familiar with the enemy’s weapon.

He could fight with everything calculated.

‘What if I had failed?’

Encrid pondered.

‘Did I rely on luck?’

The half-fairy might not have acted according to Encrid’s expectations.

For him to act as predicted required a certain amount of luck.

Encrid questioned himself.

On the first day, when he killed that perverted bastard who liked to stab.

Encrid had used a powerful thrust as his weapon.

It was an act of placing his life on the line, not considering what would happen afterward—a gamble.

He reflected on that time, recalling the mistakes he made.

Had he made the same mistake this time?

Not this time.

‘Even if I had used a different move,’

In the end, he would have still won.

He was confident he could have overpowered his opponent in terms of individual tactics and overall skill.

Even if the half-fairy had fought with all his might and Rotten was waiting behind him,

‘I still had a better chance of winning.’

Of course, it wouldn’t have been as clean and without injury as it was this time.

He constantly reviewed and reflected. Repeating it over and over.

While walking, he visualized and applied it to different scenarios.

The patrolman who found Encrid was startled twice.

First, at the sight of the corpses, and second, at the sight of the Squad Leader who had reached the level of a senior soldier.

Senior soldier, in name only.

How many common soldiers displayed such skill?

Especially considering that until the recent battle, he had been quite incompetent.

In conclusion, he was now recognized by others and himself as no longer being at the bottom level in swordsmanship.

Yet, Encrid still pondered.

‘There might have been an easier way.’

It was an attitude hard to believe for someone living the same day repeatedly.

But perhaps it was this very attitude that allowed him to always face tomorrow.

His thoughts continued to spiral, leading Encrid to recall last night’s dream.

‘Is it because I have nothing to do?’

An unfathomable entity, no matter how he looked at it.

He was thinking of the ferryman of the Black River.

The ferryman, who appeared in his dream, did not sneer at him as before. He merely stared at him for a moment and then spat out one sentence.

“What are you?”

A voice without a mouth. Because of this, the emotions carried by the voice were clearly conveyed.

No, it was because the ferryman wanted them to be conveyed. Encrid instinctively felt this.

The emotion in that single word was curiosity.

Pure curiosity, untainted by any fragments of disappointment or anger.

He couldn’t respond.

Because it was a dream.

Of course, it wasn’t an ordinary dream.

“Squad Leader.”

Perhaps he had been too lost in thought, but it wasn’t until someone grabbed his arm and called from behind that Encrid stopped walking.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

He had missed what was said to him a moment ago.

“I said, if you go in with that mindset, you’re likely to get stabbed by a thief.”

Rem said. It didn’t seem like a long speech.

More importantly, Rem himself looked like he was the one who would get stabbed if he rushed in wrapped in that blanket.

Ignoring Rem, Jaxon spoke.

“He asked if there’s a plan.”

A plan? What plan?

The same feeling of curiosity he saw in the ferryman in his dream appeared in Encrid’s eyes.

“Are you planning to just ask around about the Thieves’ Guild and then storm in? Do you know the location of their headquarters?”

Jaxon asked, crossing his arms. The thick clothes made his elbows stick out in a comical way, but Jaxon seemed unfazed.

Their enemy was involved in pickpocketing, human trafficking, and all sorts of crimes.

The guild’s name was Gilpin.

It literally meant the organization led by Gilpin.

Commonly referred to as a Thieves’ Guild, it was essentially a criminal organization.

Would such people reveal their base and operate openly?

No. Like vermin that thrived in the darkness and back alleys of the city, they hid themselves.

“I don’t know.”

“Then we should start by forming a plan.”

“Did you really have no plan at all?”

Rem interjected again.

Ragna, meanwhile, remained silent, simply exhaling into the cold air.

Audin just smiled broadly.

“Did you really have no plan at all?”

Krais looked at Encrid with his big eyes and asked,

“I thought you would at least know the headquarters.”

“No matter how smart I am, how would I know the location of this guild? If we try to find out, we’ll get our throats cut.”

Krais made a slicing motion across his neck as he spoke.

Would a criminal guild really kill a regular army? Were they that powerful? It didn’t seem like they were capable of such actions.

The truth was, Encrid didn’t care. He didn’t have the time or energy to worry about such things.

“Haven’t you ever carried out a small-scale operation?”

Jaxon asked again. It seemed like he was scolding Encrid for leading the entire squad without a proper plan. Encrid was gradually running out of things to say.

How had he lived his life until now?

He had been busy struggling to survive, and he spent his days sacrificing sleep to swing his sword one more time.

He hadn’t had the opportunity to learn about strategy.

Of course, he had experience as a mercenary.

He also had experience serving as a squad leader.

He had participated in small-scale operations several times.

But the flow of battle and carrying out small-scale operations outside the battlefield were entirely different stories.

On the battlefield, for instance, leading a scouting squad was a familiar area, but now the situation was different.

Moreover,

‘That was…’

It was the result of desperate survival efforts, not moving based on a thorough strategy.

Everything he knew had been learned by risking his life.

So, should he do the same this time?

Should he risk his life and repeat today?

Encrid stopped walking. The bitterly cold wind slipped through his tattered cloak and brushed against his side.

It was a piercingly cold wind.

‘I don’t want to do that.’

He didn’t want to use repeating today as a method. The pain of death wasn’t something he welcomed.

More importantly, his instincts told him there was no need for that.

So, what should he do?

He hadn’t come here completely without a plan. He had considered the usual methods.

“Won’t we find out everything if we ask around? No matter how well they hide, the city natives know everything.”

In this world, there are no secrets. A secret is only complete with death.

When the only person who knows the secret dies, no one else can know it.

A criminal organization couldn’t hide itself so thoroughly.

Therefore, the conclusion is that someone knows.

“It’s difficult to do it that way. The Gilpin guys are known for cutting off loose ends and being incredibly frightening. Even if you catch some low-level members and press them, they don’t know anything. And if they accidentally spill something, Gilpin would break all their limbs and cut out their tongue.”

They rule the organization through the fear of retaliation.

So, how?

No immediate solutions came to mind.

When it came to desperate survival and related schemes, he could think of plenty.

If this were a battlefield, he knew how to hold positions according to strategy to some extent.

But this wasn’t such a situation.

“Squad Leader, give us the orders.”

While he was lost in thought, Ragna, who had been gazing at the sky, spoke.

Encrid’s eyes turned to Ragna.

A genius in swordsmanship, with few equals when he held a sword.

That was how Encrid saw Ragna.

Ordinarily, Ragna was a lazy and careless person.

The kind who would often get lost and drop things from his pockets.

But sometimes, though rarely, Ragna could grasp the core of a matter and strike deeply.

As if he held a sword in his hand.

“The leader just needs to give orders. Leave the execution to those who know how to carry them out.”

That one sentence.

Ragna’s softly spoken words were immensely significant and weighty to Encrid.

He called him a leader.

That was indeed his position.

Squad Leader, the one who leads the squad.

So, had Encrid truly been leading the squad up until now?

‘Have I been a true Squad Leader?’

No. A person with poor skills, merely struggling to survive, could hardly become a leader of a group.

Especially when each member of the squad was exceptionally talented.

But Ragna’s one word changed the situation.

“That’s right.”

Rem acknowledged.

Jaxon slightly nodded.

“That’s how it should be, brother. The leader gives orders, and others execute them.”

Audin agreed.

Krais, however, was out of sync with the atmosphere.

He had always considered Encrid as the Squad Leader in his heart.

“Right. It’s true. Jaxon, do you have a plan?”

Jaxon, known for his principle of equivalent exchange, also dealt in information.

While Krais’s knowledge was broad and shallow, Jaxon’s was narrow and deep.

“Yes, I do.”

“Tell us.”

“If you secure an inn in the market and wait, I’ll return before sunset.”

When asked for a plan, he said he would leave.

“Leave it to me, and I’ll find out.”

“Alright. Let’s go to the inn.”

Once decided, there was no looking back. That was how Encrid operated.

On the way to the inn, while not yet in the heart of the market where it was less crowded, Encrid continued to voice his thoughts on the well-trodden dirt path.

“We’ll find the guild’s headquarters and wipe them out in one go.”

Their target was a criminal organization. Even if they had no solid evidence, using force to crush them wouldn’t be questioned.

Of course, it would punch a hole in the pockets of some noble or the Battalion Commander backing them, but

‘What does that matter?’

A true knight, after all, should have no shame in their heart.

As he had seen, heard, learned, and dreamed in his youth.

That was how Encrid had lived.

And he intended to keep living that way now.

[T/L: Please support me here: /revengerscans ]