The Nakandiya tribe's swordsmanship was threatening in its own right.
Especially amid densely packed trees or in narrow spaces.
That was because the swordsmanship itself had originated in the jungle and had been modeled after the animals there.
Ordinary soldiers found it difficult even to predict the movements of the Nakandiya tribe's swordsmanship.
But the sword Rohan had just displayed went beyond that.
"Hah. This is truly absurd. How did you do it?"
After drawing a deep breath, Creed asked with genuine curiosity.
Having a subordinate cut his hair might have wounded his pride, but he showed no sign of it.
"I combined the Swift Sword with Nakandiya swordsmanship."
"So the thrust was a feint, and you drew and swung the crescent sword with the Swift Sword?"
"More or less."
"......."
The crescent sword seemed to be what Creed called Meiwa's weapon.
Creed planted his sword in the ground and stared at Rohan as though studying him.
"And you used a short one-handed sword so you could apply the Nakandiya tribe's swordsmanship?"
"A longsword is incompatible with Nakandiya swordsmanship. It gets in the way of agile movement."
"......."
The strengths and weaknesses of Nakandiya swordsmanship were equally clear.
Its greatest weakness was its short reach.
Agile movement compensated for it, but that only worked because the Nakandiya tribe's swordsmanship was unfamiliar.
Most people on the continent had never experienced Nakandiya swordsmanship.
Rohan believed that was why it was held in such high regard.
The moment its movements were read, its structure made defeating a longsword impossible.
Just as Rohan had severed Meiwa's wrist after deciphering her movements.
'I need to adjust the sword's length again.'
He had used a one-handed sword a little longer than half a longsword, but even that had been cumbersome.
It had nearly caught on a tree while he moved.
His failure to control the length was also why he had cut Creed's hair.
He had not actually intended to cut it.
Finding the proper sword length for Rohan appeared necessary too.
Creed suddenly spoke.
"...You crazy bastard."
"......."
Rohan stared at Creed.
"Ah, that was a compliment. Don't misunderstand. Do you remember what I told you before?"
"Before?"
"Yes. That your swordsmanship was crude."
"Of course."
Creed gave a small laugh and spoke.
"You've already broken through that wall. Your rate of growth is astonishing."
"I'm still only following the swordsmanship in my memories."
Rohan genuinely believed that.
He had combined several sword arts, but if asked whether the result was truly his own, even he had doubts.
Creed shook his head.
"No. You're doing more than well enough. You're making the swordsmanship from those memories your own, aren't you?"
Creed gestured toward Rohan's sword with his chin.
'Am I...?'
Rohan did not feel it himself, but Creed was not the sort to say something he did not mean.
Creed had said he was improving, at least a little.
Rohan did not know how to answer, so he simply closed his mouth.
The two sat in silence for a while.
A mountain breeze stirred through the trees and ruffled their hair.
Creed's face suddenly twisted.
The hair fluttering over his face was shorter than usual.
"If you're going to cut it, at least cut it neatly. What is this?"
The long hair that had covered Creed's forehead was now cut in a straight line.
"......."
It had been meant as a joke, but Rohan's expression did not move.
Feeling awkward, Creed cleared his throat and changed the subject.
"Anyway, this should make you useful in a fight."
"It isn't enough."
Rohan answered at once.
Creed looked thoroughly exasperated.
"You have a talent for making people not want to talk to you."
Creed had been talking about surviving in battle, but that was not Rohan's goal.
'Can I kill Muria with this?'
Rohan considered Muria.
The Muria in his memories was not an easy opponent.
Swordsmanship, endurance, agility, strength, intelligence... She was gifted in every respect.
'I can't win.'
Rohan concluded that he could not defeat her at his current level.
But.
"So, what is your request?"
Creed asked with a wary look.
"There aren't more spies, or someone else we have to kill... right?"
Rohan shook his head and answered.
"You just need to enjoy the meat."
"......Meat?"
Creed's eyes widened.
***
The Fourth Squad's tent in the Fourth Platoon of the Fourth Company.
"Aah. Aaaah."
A deep, rough moan echoed through the tent.
It belonged to Kaisen.
"Aaaaah......."
"Would you shut up? What in the world is wrong with you?"
Unable to bear it any longer, Johanna sprang up and shouted at him.
She looked as though she were staring at an insect.
As if he could not even hear her, Kaisen kept rolling around on his bed.
"I'm hungry. I'm so hungry. I feel like I'm dying. Aaaagh!"
"Disgusting. I can't listen to this."
Johanna finally left, and Kaisen, now alone, sprang upright.
He flexed his arm.
"It's gone. I lost it."
The muscle that should have bulged high had visibly shrunk.
This was no minor problem.
Of all times, he was losing muscle before a major battle?
'It's all because of the potatoes.'
Potatoes three meals a day.
Boiled potatoes. Roasted potatoes. Mashed potatoes.
Potatoes, potatoes, potatoes!
Those goddamn potatoes!
With nothing but that crap to eat, no wonder he was losing muscle.
Kaisen looked at his serving tray.
Only two potatoes had been served that morning.
'Goddamn it! Should I have eaten it when he told me to?'
All the meat Rohan had brought flashed before his eyes.
Kaisen had refused the meat every time Rohan offered it.
It was a matter of pride.
It already drove him mad to hear the brat speak informally to him, and then Rohan would hold out the food and say, 'Eat'?
Yet Kaisen's gaze drifted to the serving tray that had held the meat Rohan brought that morning.
The meat had long since disappeared.
'......What good was that stupid pride?'
He felt as much regret as the muscle he had lost.
"Sniff, sniff. Sniff."
An irresistibly enticing scent began to waft through the air.
Meat. It was definitely meat.
'Could it be a special meal before deployment?'
Kaisen's expectations soared.
Rustle— The tent flap opened.
Kaisen had been smiling until the entrance opened.
'Rohan? You again?!'
His expression hardened the moment he saw Rohan and Creed.
Rohan carried steaming, tender meat in his hand.
He placed the meat on the serving tray and turned back.
"Eat."
"No thanks."
'Fuck!'
After speaking, Kaisen immediately covered his mouth.
The words had escaped instinctively, without passing through his mind.
"Will you move?"
Creed stepped past Kaisen.
The two sat down, and Creed tore off a strip of meat.
Kaisen stared in shock.
"Squad Leader. W-what are you doing?"
"What does it look like? Eating."
After speaking, Creed chomped into the meat.
It was the first time Creed had eaten meat Rohan had hunted.
Rohan also sat before the meat and pulled it apart.
'Goddamn it! Why is the Squad Leader doing something he never does......?!'
Rohan would always tell him to try it once, then never offer again.
It was behavior Kaisen could not understand and did not want to understand.
"Why don't you eat?"
Yet today, for the first time, Rohan offered him meat a second time.
"Yes. Stop being so proud and eat. We ran into Johanna on the way here, and she said your whining about being hungry was so disgusting that she wanted to kill you."
Rohan's behavior was surprising enough, but Creed's reaction only added to it.
'What has gotten into them?'
Kaisen cleared his throat once and sat down as though reluctantly.
"Ahem. If you want me to eat it that badly..."
His gaze fixed on the meat.
It looked magnificent.
He checked again.
"R...really, can I eat it?"
"Just eat it already!"
Creed forced Kaisen's mouth open and shoved meat into it.
At that instant, a jolt of electricity ran beneath Kaisen's ear and across his temple.
A smile spread across his face automatically.
"Munch, munch. Ah... How long has it been since I ate meat......?"
Kaisen glanced at Rohan once, then began devouring the meat.
After he had eaten for a while, Rohan suddenly asked.
"Is it good?"
"Yes. It melts in my mouth."
While he ate, Kaisen gradually sensed something strange.
That was because he could feel the two of them openly staring at him.
Even as he watched them warily, he could not stop his hands.
When he stripped the last bit of meat from the bone, Creed stood.
"Get up. Let's go."
"Where?"
Kaisen blinked in confusion.
"You have to pay for your meal. Did you think you could stuff your face for free?"
"No, but... you told me to eat......."
Kaisen looked at Rohan in disbelief.
Rohan shrugged.
"They say people from the Rookie mountain region repay favors twofold. Isn't that right, Kaisen from the Rookie mountain region?"
"Huh."
At the mention of his homeland, Kaisen's eyes nearly rolled back.
'You fight dirty, bringing up my homeland?'
Fine, he would at least hear what they wanted.
It had to involve Rohan somehow.
Kaisen had already thought things could not continue as they were between them.
Whatever this was, perhaps it would be good to deal with Rohan today.
"Tsk."
Kaisen picked meat from between his teeth with a finger and sprang up.
"Let's go."
***
Rohan, Creed, and Kaisen.
The three stood before the training ground.
Kaisen smacked his lips irritably and spoke to Creed.
"Tsk. So you're telling me to teach him swordsmanship?"
"Yes."
"That isn't difficult, though."
Kaisen's gaze ran over Rohan from head to toe.
"Condensed Explosion too?"
"Yes."
Condensed Explosion.
It was a technique that condensed mana and caused a powerful explosion.
It was effectively the secret technique of those from the Rookie Mountains.
Rohan also believed it was essential for the coming operation.
Through the countless memories that had flowed into him, he had experienced the technique's use and destructive power firsthand.
Kaisen sneered as though offended.
"Why should I?"
"You ate the meat, so pay for your meal."
"No...... No. Squad Leader. Do you think that's a fair trade?"
Creed closed his mouth, unable to answer Kaisen's incredulous objection.
He knew that feeding Kaisen a few pieces of meat did not justify demanding a secret technique.
Besides, Kaisen had barely interacted with Rohan until recently.
Kaisen turned his half-cocked head toward Rohan.
"And."
Kaisen strode over and began pressing all over Rohan's body.
Rohan disliked it but did not show it.
The places Kaisen touched were the muscles that moved most when wielding a sword.
Kaisen clicked his tongue.
"Impossible."
"Why?"
Rohan immediately questioned him.
"Because you're a frail weakling."
Kaisen pressed down repeatedly on Rohan's shoulder.
Rohan's body rocked back and forth beneath his hand.
"You're practically a sheet of paper."
Kaisen snorted and twisted the corner of his mouth.
It was blatant mockery.
"Why decide I can't do it without even letting me try?"
Rohan asked in a genuinely puzzled tone.
"Hoo. Hearing that informal speech up close really makes my blood boil. Draw your sword."
Whatever else happened, pointing swords at each other was unavoidable.
Rohan silently pulled aside his robe.
Kaisen frowned at the sight.
A one-handed sword. A longsword. A crescent sword.
Rohan had three swords.
"Are you joking?"
"I've never joked."
"Ugh. That damn informal speech......."
Rohan indicated each sword in turn.
"Which one should I use against you?"
"......?"
Kaisen's eyes widened as if he had misheard.
He could not understand what gave this weakling the confidence to act so arrogantly.
The informal speech grated on him, and he disliked Rohan's attitude.
"Haa... You seem to think swordsmanship is a game. Do whatever you want. But let's make a bet."
"A bet?"
"If I win, stop speaking informally to me."
"And if I win?"
Kaisen answered with a sneer.
"That won't happen."
"Teach me the technique."
"I said it won't happen... Haa. Fine. If you win, I'll teach you. Satisfied?"
The corners of Rohan's mouth curled upward.
His eyes did not smile.
"Good."
He answered and nodded.
Kaisen rolled his shoulders and asked Creed.
"Squad Leader. Am I allowed to beat him?"
Creed, who had been listening silently, shrugged.
"I have no reason to interfere in a spar."
"Heh heh. Good. Don't blame me if something breaks. I'll stretch that short tongue nice and long."
Kaisen drew a massive greatsword from his back.
The sword was as thick as Rohan's torso.
"The spar ends when one of you can no longer fight."
Creed, who was watching, added the condition.
That meant when one was injured, had a blade placed at a vital point, or dropped his sword.
'What are you thinking?'
Creed wondered as he watched Rohan.
Rohan should have been begging Kaisen to teach him, yet he had accepted a bet he could not win?
Admittedly, Rohan devised absurd strategies and pulled them off every time.
He had poured oil onto Kaisen's fiery temper.
Creed glanced at Rohan and flinched.
'......That look again.'
Rohan's eyes always gleamed like that when he coveted something.
Whenever they did, someone invariably died.
'Hmm.'
Creed knew Rohan absorbed the memories of those he killed.
Kaisen was undoubtedly more skilled than Rohan, yet.......
For some reason, Creed was worried about Kaisen.
And then.
"Here I come."
BOOM—!
Kaisen charged at Rohan.