WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Ryuu

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES

Chapter 42: He’s Lucky

Ragna asked about the technique of the Focus Point.

"Are you going to learn it?"

"Of course."

Enkrid didn't hesitate.

'When did my skills improve so much?'

He had firmly grasped the basics of the Northern-style. It wasn’t just swinging aimlessly in the air and learning the stance; he honed it through real battles until it became second nature.

‘Impressive.’

The squad leader was a fascinating person. Just yesterday, he had relied on the Mercenary Sword Techniques, but today he displayed rock-solid fundamentals.

"Who taught you the sword?"

"It cost a lot of money."

He implied he learned from a swordsmanship instructor.

‘It must have cost a lot indeed.’

That made sense. Even with his guidance, it couldn’t have been better than this. So, it was time to learn beyond the basics. That’s why he brought up the Focus Point.

However, Ragna was somewhat skeptical.

‘Not everyone can master this.’

Although he claimed to have developed it, it was actually one of the secret techniques passed down in his family. Of course, he didn’t teach it as it was. He couldn’t just hand out his family’s secrets to anyone, so he modified and adapted it. Thus, it wasn’t entirely inaccurate to say it was his own creation.

‘I’ve rarely seen it succeed.’

Ragna had seen fewer than five people who could enter the state of concentration. Given the time he had spent wandering the continent and his experiences, this was an exceedingly small number.

‘Not even five, probably just three.’

Among the five, two had stumbled upon it by sheer luck, like an arrow hitting a wolf’s head. It was as if they had found a coin dropped by the goddess of fortune. So, the number of people who could properly wield the Focus Point was really just three.

It required talent. Forgetting one’s surroundings and focusing entirely was no easy feat. This kind of talent wasn’t limited to swordsmanship. Some scholars exhibited such focus when learning and mastering their fields. They could even enter that state at will, immersing themselves fully.

But could one do that in the midst of battle?

It was hard not to be skeptical. Even if luck allowed someone to experience it briefly, mastering it was a different matter.

‘It’s incredibly difficult.’

Ragna had stepped into the state of the Focus Point and made it his own, but it would be tough for Enkrid. So why did he look so determined?

"Won’t you explain it to me, Ragna?"

How could he be so straightforward and earnest?

It felt like looking at a sturdy tree. A great tree that stood tall even in the face of storms and lightning. Despite knowing it was close to chasing clouds, the squad leader wanted to learn. And he nodded as if he understood, seeming genuinely earnest. It appeared real. After all, the squad leader was always sincere. Whether training, swinging a sword, or doing anything else, he approached it with his utmost effort. That’s what impressed Ragna and led him to teach him this technique.

"I think I get it."

The squad leader said, and Ragna, thinking Enkrid might have misunderstood, nodded anyway. It was a nod of encouragement.

He knew the limits of talent well. While it’s said geniuses don’t see what’s beneath their feet, Ragna, having wandered the continent, had seen those depths. He had met and sparred with those who lived underground.

‘Talent.’

So many had fallen to those two letters. The squad leader would be one of them. It was an inevitable truth. Even so, seeing him not give up, Ragna felt motivated. Selfishly, the squad leader’s persistence allowed him to walk his own path.

So, he decided to teach him with all his might.

"Forget your surroundings and yourself, leaving only pure focus. That’s the Focus Point. It’s like how people say their life flashes before their eyes when they’re at death’s door. That might be a good reference."

"Is that so? Got it."

As he explained this, the squad leader seemed to brush it off. He wasn’t usually like this. Especially not the type to give up when things seemed impossible. Ragna tried to force him into a state of concentration by threatening him with a sword several times, but the squad leader still couldn’t enter that state.

"Alright. Let’s go."

Yet, he headed to the battlefield with a bright face. Seeing that, Ragna felt a sudden surge of enthusiasm.

"Today, I’ll have to loosen up seriously."

Normally, he would lazily swing his sword, epitomizing a lazy genius. This wasn’t something he would normally say. Enkrid quietly observed this unusual Ragna.

What’s up with him now?

Well, it wasn’t bad that he was taking the fight seriously. Leaving the bright-eyed Ragna behind, Enkrid focused on his task. Today started again. Ragna's method for training the Focus Point was wrong. Even if it was right, the method that worked instantly for a genius didn’t suit him.

So was his method correct?

He didn’t know if it would work or not.

Then what should he do?

‘Test it out.’

Enkrid moved along the familiar route. He ordered everyone to lie down, then hold up their shields, adjusting their movements, and called Rem.

"Who! The! Fuck! Is doing the sorcery!"

Rem was fuming about the sorcery.

"Follow me!"

He patted Rem’s shoulder from behind.

"Huh?"

"Charge."

"What? Did you eat something bad, squad leader?"

Even while saying that, he followed. It was the same route. This time, Ragna followed without being called.

"Are we charging? If it’s breaking through the enemy vanguard, let’s do it together."

"Did you eat something bad too?"

Rem looked at Ragna and said. Ragna ignored him and sprinted forward. Though the fog surrounded them, it didn’t significantly hinder their movements. Rem was like a typhoon, his dual axes shredding the enemy. He looked ready to take down eighty soldiers by himself.

Ragna was like a heavy battering ram. He smashed through the infantry formations like a wall, cutting down and slicing with his arming sword, showing no mercy. It was an astonishing display.

‘At least exceptional level.’

Exceptional level referred to soldiers of above-average skill in the Kingdom of Naurillia. Above average was top-tier, and beyond that was exceptional.

‘Or perhaps top-tier.’

Enkrid wasn’t sure of his own level yet. So, he couldn’t precisely gauge their level. Regardless, now wasn’t the time to be observing idly. Following the same route, Enkrid stood before Mitch Hurrier.

"Let’s have a match."

This time, he initiated the conversation. Mitch widened his eyes, then laughed.

"You crazy bastard, did you come to die?"

He wasn’t wrong. Even if he killed Mitch now, there would be no way to survive.

But that was fine.

He didn’t come to die; he came to give his best shot.

"Did you come targeting me? That’s impressive; it’s the first time this has happened."

Mitch expressed his surprise openly.

"Why? Is this your first confession? I fell in love at first sight and came looking for you."

Enkrid said. Mitch chuckled, then glared.

"We’re the Gray Hounds, reknowned for for relentless pursuit. It’s been a while since someone came looking for me before I found them."

"Is that so? Are you upset? Should I hide again so you can come find me?"

"Enough nonsense."

Mitch Hurrier charged. Enkrid steadied his breath. He tried to enter a state of focus but failed. The fight's outcome was quickly decided. The opponent was superior in skill, mental strength, and talent. He wasn’t someone who could be taken down with just basic techniques.

"What made you think you could take me on? How did you get here?"

His lungs and intestines were shredded by the sword. It felt like someone had placed burning coals inside his stomach, painfully hot.

"I trusted myself. I made a mistake this time, and my mindset was wrong."

Living today over and over again didn’t mean repeating the same experience was easy.

"What?"

"Next time, I think I can do it."

Just as he had realized something when he first entered a state of focus, he now gained a small insight. So, he would try again.

"Even if I let you go, you’ll die. There’s no next time."

"Is he crazy? Don’t bother with him, squad leader."

Shing!

One of the enemy soldiers next to him drew his sword and placed it against Enkrid's neck. Enkrid didn’t wait and twisted his neck to cut himself on the blade.

Riiip.

The sword was well-sharpened, causing a sharp pain and a deep cut on his neck. With the combined pain from his stomach and neck, Enkrid spoke, enduring the agony.

"See you again."

He left those words, bleeding out and dying.

The day began again. Enkrid sought out Mitch Hurrier once more.

"Good to see you, my friend."

"…Did you really come looking for me?"

"Yes, that's right. I came to find the Gray Hounds' squad leader, the relentless pursuer. Let's have a match."

"You really are crazy bastard."

They fought again. Enkrid realized his mistake.

‘Don’t force it.’

If he focused too hard on entering the state, he became fixated on that thought. So what should he do?

Do it like the first time. Move with the flow of the opponent’s sword, matching the rhythm with his own. Fight and fight again.

The same method required eighteen more days. Only then did Enkrid re-enter the state of focus. It was exhilarating. Even though one of his arms was severed and he was lying on the ground, he couldn't help but smile. The joy overwhelmed the pain.

"Are you smiling?"

Seeing this, Mitch struck down with his sword. That ended it. He repeated the day again. He continued until he succeeded. To anyone watching, it would have seemed like an act of sheer tenacity, an extraordinary display of persistence.

But to Enkrid, it wasn’t about persistence. Entering a state of focus, improving his skills through constant battle, meeting a worthy opponent, and refining his techniques. It was immensely satisfying and enjoyable.

Twenty-eight more days passed, and Enkrid got the hang of the state of focus.

After forty-eight more days, he could intentionally enter the state of focus.

And after ninety-four more days, he could enter the state of focus at will.

Pure concentration. This meant he had complete control over his sword and body. With this mastery, skill combined with strength. Once he had fully grasped the Focus Point, he returned to Ragna for further learning. When he demonstrated the Focus Point, Ragna frowned.

"What is it?"

"Why?"

"It looks like you’ve already learned this somewhere... No, it’s not something that can be learned easily. Were you a genius?"

A genius? Despite the fortunate experiences and intense training, it took him over a hundred repetitions to finally get it right. Enkrid knew he lacked natural talent, but he didn't let it bother him. He was simply enjoying the present moment.

So, he repeated the familiar phrase.

"I was lucky."

"Does luck get you this far?"

Ragna was baffled. Seeing Ragna’s reaction, Enkrid knew it was time to leave this repeating day. He left Ragna after absorbing the essence of the Focus Point, pretending to be a genius, and then turned to leave. Ragna asked,

"Where are you going?"

"To meet the company commander."

Ragna let Enkrid go. He was still amazed at how Enkrid had grasped the Focus Point in such a short time. Could the squad leader really be a genius? It didn’t seem likely.

Despite Enkrid demonstrating the Focus Point, the technique bore the marks of meticulous practice. It wasn’t something that could be mastered in one try.

‘How is that possible?’

Ragna pondered for a moment but soon dismissed the thought. There was no point in worrying about it. Letting it go was the answer. Watching a squad leader like that simply motivated him. Enkrid saw the sparkle in Ragna’s eyes again today and thought, ‘Whatever he does, today will be a day full of motivation for him.’

‘I should focus on my own tasks.’

There was no time to be concerned about Ragna. This battle would result in near-total annihilation of the allies no matter what.

To prevent that, two things were needed. One was to dispel the Fog of Annihilation. The other was for the allies to find cover while the fog cleared.

It wasn’t possible to do both simultaneously. Enkrid had only one body.

Breaking the flagpoles also posed a problem. After ambushing the enemy, he would need to escape from the heart of the enemy lines. Enkrid had no intention of remaining trapped in this day. He needed to shatter the enemy’s strategy.

"I need to see the company commander."

Enkrid sought out the 4th Platoon Leader and said.

"…Now?"

With the tension of the approaching battle palpable, the ally camp’s atmosphere was tense. It was understandable for the platoon leader to be taken aback by such a request. The platoon leader, who was resting with his spear propped against the wall, rose from his cot.

"Yes, now."

"Why?"

"I remembered something from the previous reconnaissance mission."

The 4th Platoon Leader scrutinized Enkrid for a moment, then nodded and got up. There was a cracking sound as his knee joints adjusted. He stood up, stretched, and asked,

"What is it?"

"It seems that the Azpen Army has hidden something sorcery."

"Sorcery?"

"Yes."

The platoon leader hesitated, wondering if this was credible. However, recalling that Enkrid wasn’t one to speak nonsense, he started walking briskly. If there was something to say, it had to be said. The company commander would make the judgment. Soon, they arrived at the company commander's tent and were allowed entry.

"You wanted to see me?"

The company commander, a green-eyed elf, asked. The tent was cozy. As Enkrid watched the short torches burn with a crackling sound, he nodded.

"Yes."

"For what reason?"

It seemed that the commander might scold him if it wasn’t serious. The elf commander’s tone was cold.

"It’s about sorcery."

Enkrid got straight to the point.

"sorcery?"

"I saw a person in the enemy camp carrying a flag. It looked like a sorcerer."

Thanks to endlessly repeating the day, he could vaguely remember seeing it, but he hadn’t forgotten what he saw. Enkrid slightly embellished what he saw. Just enough to be convincing. If this wasn’t persuasive enough, there was nothing more he could do.

‘I’ll just have to try again.’

It was the privilege of someone who relived today endlessly. Fortunately, the elf commander listened to Enkrid attentively.

"Tell me more."

"Of course."

He said he heard the enemy shouting about a sorcerer. The elf commander’s eyes glinted.

He didn’t mention that the fog would appear. That would be too much. sorcery was a closely guarded secret, not easily identified. This much would suffice. The rest was up to the commander’s abilities. Enkrid conveyed his message and returned to his position.

He was now at the forefront of the battlefield. It was time to surpass Mitch Hurrier and break the flagpoles.

‘This is as much as I can do.’

The rest was up to the leaders.

"Huuh."

It was time to transcend being trapped in this day.

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