The battle was over.
It had been an easy fight—if you could even call it that.
'Hmm…'
After knocking out the entire recon team, I briefly checked over each of them.
They had only lost consciousness. As expected, none had suffered serious injuries thanks to the restraint I'd intentionally exercised.
'They'll patch themselves up once they wake.'
Of course, in Dmitri's case, I might've let a bit of my usual irritation slip into the blow, so I probably needed to use a little of the Life Water on him.
The others, though, weren't in bad shape.
The fact that the recon team might start wondering why the Turncoat Pawn spared them didn't bother me much—I had already prepared a plausible excuse.
'Still… I don't know whether to call this expected or disappointing.'
Yes, the recon team had done their part.
But that was only surface-level.
In reality, they hadn't even managed to inflict any real damage.
'I only fought using Janus's strength. As powerful as Janus is… this isn't enough.'
Janus was strong, sure.
Strong enough to comfortably hunt a Grade-1 beast solo now.
But still, the fact that I—using only Janus's abilities—had been able to utterly overwhelm them was a frustrating outcome.
They were still far from where I wanted them to be.
'I can't leave them like this.'
I walked over to the unconscious Dmitri first and uncapped a flask.
The blood trickling from his lips made it obvious—if left untreated, he'd be a liability for the rest of the mission.
'It's a waste to use this on him… but fine.'
I let a few drops of Life Water trickle into his mouth.
Not enough to completely heal him—that would raise questions—just enough to get him back on his feet.
'Still feels like a waste.'
Anyone who saw the endlessly replenishing Life Water in the hideout might scoff at that, but for Dmitri, even that was too generous.
If he hadn't had skills or connections, I would've left him behind.
'Alright then…'
With the basic follow-up done, I removed the Kupf's Bone Mask and Sky Whale Cloak that I was wearing.
The mask went back into Janus, the cloak into the [Rift Space].
Then I gathered the recon team near the camp and waited for them to wake.
["You really like making things complicated, don't you?"]
'What.'
["Why go through all this trouble? Even if they get stronger, it's not like they'll be that useful. Can't you just go kill everything yourself?"]
Esther, apparently eager to live up to her title as a Grade-1 Specter, snarked as usual.
But she was wrong.
'They will grow stronger.'
["And what makes you so sure? I don't see it."]
'Because I'll make sure they do.'
["Ugh… You make it sound cool, but it's really not. The only thing improving over time is your flair for cheesy lines."]
'Shut it.'
It was a dull hour, but thanks to Esther's running commentary, it wasn't boring.
["Seriously though… sometimes I really don't know what's going through your head."]
Esther grumbled.
And just as she did, Klutz was the first to open his eyes.
"Ha!"
He awoke with a sharp cry and scanned the area in a panic.
"What the hell happened…?"
"Calm down."
"The Turncoat…?"
"It fled."
"I… see…"
Maybe those words reassured him somehow, because he collapsed again with a look of relief.
["What the hell was that?"]
Esther scoffed.
Time passed, and next to wake was Dmitri.
The Life Water I'd used seemed to be doing its job.
"Urgh…"
Clutching his chest, Dmitri sat up slowly.
"…You savage… What happened to the Turncoat Pawn?"
"It ran."
"Ran? That thing?"
"Yes."
Dmitri gave me a suspicious look, but when I answered indifferently, he just shook his head.
"Hmph… Must've been dumb luck. That thing was a full-on monster. Not even you could've taken it down."
That full-on monster was me, you moron.
I swallowed the words rising to my throat and looked over the rest of the team.
"Ugh…"
"…Is everyone alright?"
"Ghhk."
Soon, Hildegard, Iris, and Kurilta rose to their feet.
"…Carl? What happened here?"
It felt like I was repeating myself for the hundredth time, but I held back my frustration and answered patiently.
"The Turncoat Pawn fled."
"It ran away?"
"Yes."
"Hah… You drove off that monster? That's so like you, Carl."
Kurilta nodded as if he expected nothing less.
Meanwhile, Hildegard, rising slowly, looked puzzled.
"Carl, are you the one who drove the Turncoat Pawn off?"
"Yes."
"Where were you, anyway?"
"I had business."
"What kind of business?"
"Important business."
Hildegard's Insight Eye locked onto me.
The eyes that could pierce through lies and truth…
But they couldn't pierce mine.
["Watch it."]
Esther's cold warning echoed sharply, and Hildegard's face paled as she sensed the strange ether surrounding me.
"Gasp…"
Though she couldn't fully perceive Esther, she could sense her presence.
Which meant she didn't dare probe my mind further.
Iris asked,
"Why did the Turncoat Pawn target us in the first place? And why didn't it kill us?"
"It didn't fail to kill us—it couldn't, because of Carl."
"…I'm not so sure about that."
Hildegard shook her head at Kurilta's words, her golden eyes gleaming as she turned toward me.
"Do you have any theories?"
"No."
"I see…"
She still seemed to suspect me, but I figured that wouldn't last long.
"Everyone, tend to your injuries and rest. I'll take first watch."
"No, brother. I'm fine."
"You're bleeding from your side."
"...Mmm."
The recon team opened their medkits and began treating each other's injuries.
Since none of the wounds were too severe to begin with, the treatment didn't take long.
"All done here."
"This side too."
Watching them wrap each other's wounds and apply ointment might have been touching—if not for the harsh reality that lay ahead.
'I'll push them to the limit.'
By the time this entire journey ends, they will have grown.
To a level beyond anything they are now.
I would make sure of it.
*
From that point on, the journey became a kind of repetitive training loop.
Every night, I appeared before the recon team as the Turncoat Pawn, and we clashed in combat.
"Gah!"
"Eek!"
"Urgh!"
"Aaagh!"
Although calling it combat might've been a stretch.
It was closer to a one-sided beatdown.
"Ow, my ribs..."
"What the hell is that freak even coming back for? There's nothing here for him."
"...I thought I was gonna die."
Day two was no different from the first.
Same with day three.
The change came on the fourth day.
"This isn't working. We can't handle the Turncoat Pawn with half-baked tactics."
Perhaps they were finally facing reality.
The recon team, led by Hildegard, gathered to strategize.
"If someone had been here from the start, none of this would've happened..."
I felt the resentful gazes, but chose not to respond.
"Enough. He said he had a mission."
Once again, Kurilta came to my defense.
"And just what kind of mission makes him vanish like this?"
"If it were something he could talk about, Carl would've told us. Stop whining and focus on what needs doing. You're a soldier, aren't you?"
"Of all people, I never thought you'd throw the 'soldier' line at me..."
"That's life."
Hildegard spoke.
"While we're on the topic—I won't ask what your mission is, Carl Marcus. But does it really require you to be gone this much?"
"Yes."
"We've been lucky so far. But if this keeps up, it's only a matter of time before we're wiped out."
"Then get stronger."
"Easy for you to say...!"
Kurilta cut in.
"Carl's right."
"Even you—!"
"Isn't it obvious? That Turncoat only keeps coming after us because Carl's not here."
Kurilta's blunt remark silenced Hildegard.
"In other words, we're dragging him down. That's unacceptable. That's not what warriors do."
"We're soldiers."
"Soldiers or not—it's the same. Don't weigh down your comrades."
It was almost jarring how smooth Kurilta's words were.
["...What's with the big guy?"]
'I'm asking myself the same thing.'
["Weren't you two friends?"]
'Not really.'
Maybe we were, once. But now? It felt awkward to even call it friendship.
"So, Carl."
"Speak."
"How do we stop dragging you down?"
...Well, now.
"You want me to tell you?"
"That would be appreciated."
"Hmph. Fine."
Since I had planned to train them anyway, this just handed me the perfect excuse.
"Are you ready?"
Kurilta answered first.
"Always."
The others were far less enthusiastic.
"...Yes."
"I'm ready."
"Hmph. Barbarian you may be... but you're trustworthy."
"I'm prepared."
And so, the real training began.
* * *
"Huff, huff...!"
"How the hell is this idiocy supposed to be training—ow!"
"First one there!"
As the shout echoed near his ear, Klutz realized something was off.
'What the hell am I doing here?'
This was supposed to be a reconnaissance mission.
A critical one—monitoring the movements of the Church of Morte.
Yet here he was, part of a team caught in utter chaos.
"Run!"
"Ahh! Don't push me!"
"That's my foot!"
Comrades—
They were supposed to be the people you could trust with your back on the battlefield.
But right now, they were more like ankle-grabbing gremlins.
"I was first!"
"No, I was!"
"Think you can beat me?!"
The worst part?
Klutz himself was caught up in the madness.
"When I heard Carl Marcus was going to train us, I expected something special—something we wouldn't get inside the Ark."
After all, Carl had driven away the Turncoat Pawn that none of them could even scratch.
But this?
This was just a brawl for survival.
'What the hell was I expecting…'
Still, there was one silver lining:
He was learning a lot about the recon team—about their strengths and weaknesses.
Which made sense.
In Carl Marcus's "first-one-there" rule, everyone was an enemy.
To beat the enemy, you had to know them—and yourself.
"Outta the way!"
"You move!"
"Hmph!"
Amidst the hellish chaos of training...
That night, once again—
The Turncoat Pawn returned.