WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Ryuu

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES

Chapter 12: Two Days

Frog recalled the scene he had witnessed.

"I thought he would win."

He had even taught the guy. He had quite a bit of talent. Frog didn't like his personality at all, but that wasn't his concern. A soldier trained mainly in stabbing. A guy with considerable talent. He wasn't someone who should die on such a trivial battlefield. If left alone, he could have at least reached the level of a company commander.

Frog thought about why the soldier had died.

"Lack of experience?"

No, this wasn't the first soldier raised in this manner. He wasn't someone who would die so easily.

"Bad opponent?"

So, it was just bad luck. He had been abandoned by the goddess of fortune. Frog chuckled, making a grating sound.

"Luck is also a skill."

As he entered his camp, his lieutenant approached.

"I've been looking for you, general."

"Oh, really?"

"Did you go to the enemy's territory?"

"I just went out for a stroll."

"You seem to be in a good mood."

"I saw a guy die from a stab wound in 'that place.'"

For Frog, the heart was a forbidden word. He loathed seeing it pierced, even from a distance. Yet here was Frog, talking about it and laughing. The lieutenant should have suspected something was wrong with the general's mind, but he didn't.

The experienced frogs occasionally mentioned the word heart. And the Frog before him was a seasoned soldier. He could mention the word heart if he chose to. So, seeing someone die from a pierced heart could make him laugh.

To be precise, Frog could laugh when he saw something more interesting than someone dying from a pierced heart.

"You must have seen something amusing."

"Well, just a strangely interesting guy."

He couldn't be an ally. If he were, Frog would have brought him back already, he said nonchalantly as he walked on. Frog had thick soles. He didn't even need boots. In fact, some frogs occasionally embedded nails in their soles because they were too slippery.

But General Frog disapproved of those who embedded nails in their soles. With excellent senses and proper training, slippery soles could also become a weapon.

"He imitated the stabbing perfectly."

It wasn't a matter of talent. Frog could gauge the level of the technique the opponent had mastered. General Frog had seen the enemy soldier stabbing. He knew because he had seen it.

"A skill honed through countless repetitions."

It was more like a technique mastered at the risk of one's life rather than something learned. Not a matter of talent, but of overwhelming effort.

"He lacked talent."

If luck piled up tens or hundreds of times, it wouldn't be impossible.

If you survived countless stabbings in front of your eyes, you could move like that.

Everything else was a mess, but the stabbing was passable.

But does this make sense?

"With that kind of skill?"

Surviving on the battlefield repeatedly? To learn at the risk of one's life meant he narrowly survived many times. It was a movement that could only be shown by colliding and breaking against stronger opponents countless times.

Does this make sense?

No, it doesn't.

That's why it piqued his interest.

"I'd like to see him again."

General Frog didn't think it would happen. The goddess of luck was unfair. She was partial. She sometimes favored someone with luck. But even luck had its limits.

"He must have used up his lifetime’s luck."

There would be no next time. That didn't mean he would die today thoufhy. Even though he kicked him in a fit of excitement, the guy somehow blocked it. Seeing the two who came to protect him in the end, he didn't seem like he would die on the battlefield now.

But it wouldn't last long. Even if you recklessly challenged someone better than you, your skill might improve, but you'd need hundreds of lives.

"General."

"Let's eat."

Frog stopped thinking about that matter. It was time to focus on something else. In other words, it was time to eat and strategize. The blonde lieutenant nodded at the general's words.

"Let's go. I'll prepare the meal."

He saw the ferryman.

Enkrid realized he was sitting on a ferry.

"A dream?"

He had experienced this once before, hadn't he? It was a rather old memory. When was it?

"When I first woke up again."

The ferryman without a mouth. A curious voice. He recalled the faint memory.

"Back then."

He thought it was just a meaningless dream. What was the importance of meeting a ferryman in a dream?

"You survived another day?"

The boatman spoke. Just like back then, Enkrid couldn't say a word. It seemed that all he could do here was listen.

"Even with eyes, you cannot see. Even with a mouth, you cannot speak. Even with ears, you cannot hear."

The boatman spoke as if singing. The words were mixed with melody and rhythm. He couldn't even blink. None of his senses moved as he wished. It was stifling and frustrating.

"What can I do now?"

In a dream, shouldn't you be able to cast spells from your hand or something? It was a dream, but not a dream. Realizing this, Enkrid knew that all he could do was listen.

"Can you keep enduring? Can you do that? You will be blocked continuously."

He didn't understand what was being said. Didn't the ferryman just say he couldn't hear properly even though he had ears?

"You still can't hear my name."

He looked at the ferryman. A blurry figure appeared over the black veil. Like dew on a spring morning, drops seemed to block his vision. It was that blurry. All black. At first, he thought the ferryman just had no mouth, but he had nothing.

"What you can hear now is my whim and goodwill."

He said, giggling. It wasn't that he saw him laugh. It felt like the ferryman was letting him know he was laughing.

"So what?"

"Child, nothing has ended, and you cannot escape. The 'wall' blocking your path will always be there. It will become your destiny."

The word wall sounded strange. It felt like he actually said something else but Enkrid heard it as ‘wall.’ What is this?

"Can you survive?"

He had no idea what nonsense this was.

"Of course."

Oh? He could talk? There was no need to question it. The ferryman seemed more surprised.

"You..."

The ferryman whispered something, but Enkrid's mind soon became hazy.

Splash.

The ferry disappeared. Enkrid fell into deep water. Over the water, beyond the dew, a black mass conveyed words, no, it conveyed will.

"This won't stay in your memory. But."

Snicker snicker.

The ferryman laughed and continued speaking.

"You're really interesting."

And that was it. As he fell into the deep water, Enkrid lost consciousness. He was drawn into the deep abyss.

"...Who is the hero of this battlefield?"

"Cyprus!"

"Who is the master of this battlefield?"

"Cyprus!"

"Who runs towards tomorrow?"

"Cyprus!"

"Who delivers the verdict!"

It was a song. A cheerful tune, deep voice, with perfect rhythm.

"A marching song?"

No, it wasn't.

He had learned a few marching songs since joining this unit, but this wasn't one of them. What he learned here was more like a rhythmic chant than a song.

We will win!

Blessed by the invincible sun!

With the power of the heavenly god!

Something like that. No melody, just a shout with rhythm. But now there was melody and rhythm. It was a familiar song.

"A bard's song."

Not all bards are the same. Some take sides and follow the army to boost morale. This must be one of those times. What bard would want to make and sing a praise song for Cyprus? Moreover, that bard wouldn't have even seen the knight Cyprus.

"You're awake?"

Turning to the voice, he saw Rem. His side ached like crazy. When he tried to lift his hand to touch it, Rem grabbed it.

"It didn't break, just barely. Instead, they say your head got quite a shake. Here, how many fingers?"

Rem wiggled his fingers.

"Go eat shit."

Enkrid tried to process the situation.

"Today" was over.

Accepting that fact alone was mentally exhausting. He couldn't entertain Rem's jests.

"See, he's out of it. It's me, Rem, your eternal buddy."

"You crazy bastard."

"You forgot me? That's too harsh."

Enkrid closed his eyes for a moment and opened them again. He had survived ‘today.’ Which meant that a day had passed. His mind was in turmoil. The dream was too chaotic.

"Didn't he say I wouldn't remember?"

But it was all too clear.

Black water, a ferry, the ferryman without eyes, nose, or a mouth. He remembered everything the ferryman said. It felt a bit hazy, like a distant memory. He had a good memory from his childhood. Enkrid remembered everything.

"I haven't forgotten. The noble hunter."

Reciting what was once Rem's nickname made him stop joking.

"Shh, I said that's a secret."

Finally, the jesting stopped. He looked at him with reproachful eyes as if asking why he brought that up. Enkrid composed himself.

First.

"What happened to me?"

Finally, he got a proper explanation. A dead soldier, dramatically improved skills, and Frog.

"The frog intervened?"

He had been a mercenary for years but had never seen a frog-man in person. Of course, he had never been hit by a frog-man either. It was a miracle that all his ribs weren't broken.

What do you do if you meet a frog as an enemy on the battlefield?

"Run."

"Hide."

"Die."

Three experienced mercenaries gave different answers, but the conclusion was the same. If you can't run or hide, you die. Frog-men were that dangerous and terrifying. That's what combat species were like.

Be it giants, dragonkin, or elves, every species had superior abilities compared to humans, but it was mostly humans who reached the level of knights. That's why humans held the largest power on this continent.

"After that, I 'personally' carried you off the battlefield. It was a rough road. Almost died."

If it had been truly dangerous, he wouldn't be speaking like this.

"I owe you."

"If you understand that, you could do the dishes for ten turns."

This bastard, really. Enkrid sighed inwardly but nodded. Despite telling him to leave, Rem didn't get up easily. He had the same smiling face as usual.

"Did you practice alone? When I wasn't looking?"

What nonsense is this? Enkrid thought as he looked at him.

"Your heart was ripened?"

Huh?

"Didn't I teach you?"

"Oh!"

Enkrid realized that Rem had been watching him. Well, he had seen him, so he could help in time.

"It just happened. After surviving a few close calls, I figured it out."

He had thought of dozens of plausible excuses. This was the most convincing one. It was also the truth without any lies. Just slightly understated. Saying he didn't survive those close calls and died wouldn't make sense.

"Well done."

Rem finally stood up.

"Rest well. Your body needs to recover for the next time."

Enkrid finally looked around. He was in the medical tent. A place where the injured gathered. Should he try to get up? As he tried to rise, a soldier sitting nearby spoke with a blurry voice.

"You shouldn't move yet. If you overdo it, it'll get worse. Your head was shaken badly."

A mere soldier seemed like a medic. For mere soldiers, if they were injured, it was lucky if there was a comrade who knew a bit about herbs. Otherwise, dying was common.

"How did I get to the medical tent?"

It didn't matter how he got here. He could find out later. More importantly…

"I survived today."

The start of a new day was more important. Looking towards the entrance of the tent, light seeped in through the gaps. It wasn't sunlight. It was the light of flickering torches, along with passing shadows. The bard's song continued.

"Who is the hero!"

"Cyprus!"

The soldiers' chants followed. He survived today and lived to see the next day. But it seemed he had been unconscious throughout the morning and afternoon, waking up only in the evening.

"Did I pass today?"

He asked the medic standing by.

"Today? It's been two days."

It was quite a shock. Enkrid thought about it as he closed his eyes. Surviving today was crucial. He had defeated the stabbing soldier. He had surpassed him with his skills.

Afterward, Enkrid thought about the ferryman. He recalled and pondered the ferryman’s words. He had no choice. The ferryman had said it would repeat.

Therefore,

"If I die, today will repeat."

The ferryman had spoken as if to impose a punishment.

But.

"Why is that a punishment?"

To Enkrid, it wasn't a punishment, but a reward.

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