WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Ryuu

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES

Chapter 123: Was Your Mother a Ghoul?

What the hell is this?

The two armies faced each other on a field of small, crunching gravel. A river flowed to the left and mountains and forests lay in the background to the right.

They were within arrow range. Few archers from both sides were already eyeing each other.

A pale tension hanging in the air, they were prepared to thrust spears into each other's throats, swing swords, or perhaps bash heads with maces.

If not that, then it was the moment to strike. The beginning of this... how should one describe it?

"Provocation?"

"Aw, too bad you’ll die before you even get to use your stuff, huh?"

Three of them came forward, shouting loudly. Their voices boomed, and their pronunciation was clear. They were at least three hundred steps away, but the insults rang out loud and clear.

How loud must their voices have been. It seemed like a foolish act.

"Is this working?"

It was. The morale was already low, and now they had to stand there and take such mockery—it was frustrating.

But what would happen if they just fired arrows and charged in? With both sides having a similar headcount, falling morale would signify a lost battle from the start.

So.

"Watching and waiting might be the right move."

But would just waiting give them an answer?

It seemed like they needed some extraordinary tactics or a small elite force to disrupt things. Even without a keen sense of strategy, it was clear that they had to do something immediately.

Still, Enkrid remained more composed than others. At the very least, he didn't feel like he would die here.

Whether he got minor injuries or not; whether his platoon members were by his side or not. It was just a hunch. Looking at it that way, he'd made a lot of progress.

In the past, this would have been the moment he'd be racking his brain, thinking of every possible way to survive, but now, he was assessing the situation.

"Am I getting complacent?"

It felt trivial. However, it wasn’t something for Enkrid to worry about at the moment. If he were in charge of a unit, or if his subordinates' lives were at stake, such concerns would be natural.

But for Enkrid, even leading the Mad Platoon seemed questionable. These men simply followed him on their own accord.

For now, he had to deal with the most urgent matter.

"Andrew, don’t get worked up."

Enkrid raised his hand to block Andrew’s chest.

"Huh?"

"Being a virgin isn’t something to be ashamed of."

He repeated it, to soothe Andrew’s wounded pride, remembering how Andrew had reacted last time.

They had met while on a mission with the recon unit, and now the enemy soldiers were using the exact same words that had provoked him before.

Enkrid needed to calm him down before he lost his cool.

"...Feels like they’re mocking me."

Andrew mumbled, his eyes drooping. It wasn’t. It was a misunderstanding. Enkrid spoke up again.

"Hold it in for now. There’ll be a time to let out your anger."

The new battalion commander was Marcus, right? Unless the regimental commander or someone from the Order of Knights showed up, he would continue to hold command over the unit.

As long as that guy Marcus didn’t have flowers blooming out of his skull, he wouldn't let them be pushed around like this.

"Put all that anger into the battle."

"I'm not even angry, and I don't think this has anything to do with me."

"I'm telling you, just hold it in for now."

Enkrid comforted Andrew, who was trying to brush it off. He was persistent. He even patted his shoulder and gently pushed him back. Andrew took a step back, dejected.

"Ahem."

Enri, who had been listening nearby, cleared his throat. Mack had an awkward expression on his face. As for the rest of the platoon—

"Pfft."

Rem started snickering. Even Jaxon, who usually showed no expression, glanced at Andrew and managed a faint smile.

"Brother, it’s fine. Just submit yourself to God."

Audin outright suggested he should become a monk. Ragna shot Andrew a sideways glance and nodded.

"It’s okay. There’s still a chance."

What chance? It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, it was just that he never had the opportunity.

"Why are you all picking on me?"

Andrew genuinely had no idea. He had even forgotten about the words Enkrid had used to provoke him. If it hadn’t been brought up now, it might never have resurfaced.

He needed to train with his sword. He needed to revive his family. Everything else was a luxury. He was just a diligent laborer filling his life with work.

So why were they teasing him over this?

"Didn’t I say it’s fine, you idiot."

Rem punched Andrew’s shoulder playfully. Andrew felt wronged, and anger he hadn’t had before began to rise. Naturally, that anger turned toward the enemy.

If he let it out here, he might not live to see the sunrise. His instincts told him to redirect his fury.

"Those damn ghoul-like bastards."

The ones who shouted about their "stuff" were the problem. He wanted to rip the mouths of those enemy soldiers apart.

The insults continued. Some men from their side responded, but they still felt outmatched.

Verbal sparring, really.

As absurd as it seemed, the enemy's strategy was quite clear. They aimed to drive morale into the ground.

The fact that the mood of their own forces worsened with just a few insults confirmed it.

However,

Around Enkrid, the air was warm. From a broader perspective, it seemed like a trivial change.

"Uh, when we get back to the city, I’ll introduce you to a nice salon."

"Just don’t lose your first experience in the red-light district."

"For the first time, a seasoned older woman is best. I know an auntie—how about her?"

The crude jokes from the nearby soldiers began to circulate.

"Can’t you shut up?"

Andrew glared around fiercely.

Thanks to his sacrifice, their mood shifted. The best response to insults was to ignore them.

"Pretty good."

It was Kraiss who recognized Enkrid’s intentions. It was a moment when a change in atmosphere was needed. After all, everything began with small steps.

Kraiss was thinking about what he would do if he were in command. He stood on the battlefield instead of idling at the rear, waiting for the fight to end.

Naturally, he began to think about what was needed for a victorious battle, that is, how to survive.

First of all, changing the atmosphere. That was what Enkrid had initiated.

"Pretty good? I was genuinely concerned. After all, there was an order not to rush into the fight."

It was clearly a joke.

Was this all planned? No, that didn’t seem to be the case. It was probably something he did on instinct.

"Such a strange person."

That, too, was part of Enkrid’s charm. Even while living so fiercely, he didn’t forget to crack a joke, and he never tolerated a gloomy atmosphere.

Andrew blushed from all the teasing. The mood around the Mad Platoon shifted. What would they do now, fight?

Yeah, something like that—one could sense that spirit starting to emerge.

The platoon was always composed of those who lived with such attitudes, and they were getting restless now. Rem finally spoke up.

"So, how long are we just going to watch?"

It would be more refreshing to have a brawl. Both armies were still filled with tension, but nobody made the first move.

They drew their arrows and held them tight, ready to release and continued to hold their ground. The more anxious ones couldn’t even sleep properly, and some had started vomiting.

It was understandable. The standoff had been going on for days. Even Rem and the others were starting to get irritated. The fortunate thing was that the three new members—Andrew, Mack, and Enri—still looked fine.

They took shifts on watch. Through enduring Rem’s and other platoon members' teasing, they had gotten closer.

Enri, although more reserved, still blended in. After all, surviving among Rem and the others was no small feat.

As a result, they weren't as swept up in the pervasive sense of defeat spreading through the ranks.

They were too busy enduring the harassment and standing watch to entertain any other thoughts.

"Want to run your mouth a bit?"

Kraiss suddenly suggested. The stance of their forces was clear—they were waiting for the enemy to make a move.

Kraiss planned to use that by making a proposal to Enkrid.

Everyone in the platoon, even those with sharp tongues like Rem, acknowledged Enkrid. They believed that his words and actions would be enough to provoke the enemy.

"I don’t really have anything to say."

No matter how good one was with words, what could be said in this kind of atmosphere? Enkrid was being honest. Still, Kraiss pressed on.

"Just to change things up a bit."

Maybe he should give it a try. It didn’t seem like a difficult thing to do. The enemy and allies were fighting not with swords and spears but with words.

Enkrid began to move quietly. The Mad Platoon had no fixed positions. As they moved, a path naturally opened. As they passed, a few familiar soldiers asked where he was going.

Enkrid answered them calmly.

"Going to throw in a word or two."

Until then, he hadn’t really thought about it. The enemy soldiers were babbling about "stuff," making noise about what a bunch of the queen’s boy-toys could possibly do.

He walked out to the front, where Vengeance was.

"Back at the front as soon as you returned from the rear?"

"Our unit's the best-maintained unit in the battalion."

It looked like his platoon had swapped the mixed archers for all spearmen. This was the 3rd Platoon of the 2nd Company, and Enkrid was at the front of the 2nd Company.

He glanced at Vengeance and then at the distant enemy. He had an idea of what to say. Enkrid took a few more steps forward.

Rem, Ragna, and Jaxon joined him.

They were well within arrow range, where a dedicated archer could turn him into a pincushion, yet Enkrid was bold.

If this was going to be a battle of words.

If morale was the problem.

Then why not show a little daring?

"Hey, you! Come out!"

He shouted. It was a taunt directed at the enemy. Here they were stepping up—what would they do? It was a bold question.

They had heard how previous fights had gone. Trash-talking followed by soldier-to-soldier duels. Non-officers fighting to take the initiative.

If that was how things had gone before, why not do the same here?

"I’ll do it."

Instead of following, Kraiss conveyed a few words, which Enkrid found reasonable.

"Can you take down five in a row? That should be enough."

That was the gist.

If Enkrid could dominate the duels, then no matter what the enemy commanders tried, they could just crush them.

"Overwhelmingly."

Kill, and kill again, showing the difference in skill. Push them until their commander had no choice but to step up, then crush him.

When Kraiss’s large eyes focused, they showed he had a plan. Boosting morale to set something in motion—clever.

Enkrid trusted Kraiss’s mind and his tricks, so he stepped forward onto the battlefield. With that provocative advance.

Even their allies began to murmur.

"What’s he doing?"

"Oh, it’s the Mad Platoon leader."

"Enkrid?"

"Sorcery Breaker?"

Some recognized him, as he was a known figure within the unit. And lately, he had proven his strength. The entire army began to feel something strange.

Even Vengeance seemed to sense that something was about to happen when he saw Enkrid step forward.

Why exactly?

He didn’t know.

The mood on the battlefield was like a drawn sword. Until now, that sword had been pointed at their side. But now, it felt like the wind was starting to blow in a different direction.

Kraiss felt confident his idea would work.

"Well, let’s see how this goes."

He roughly understood what their commander was waiting for. He had heard the rumors about Battalion Commander Marcus and could guess his combat style.

He must have something planned. Kraiss decided to help get things started. If it backfired, he would simply step back.

It was a low-risk, high-reward gamble.

As Enkrid moved forward and the mood shifted, one of the enemy soldiers who had been mouthing off stepped up.

"Oh, he came out. This bastard."

Enkrid hadn’t really planned on taunting, but as he walked by, he couldn’t help but brush past Vengeance.

Why did Vengeance hate him again? To sum it up, wasn’t it just because of his face?

"What’s with you? Why do you look like a ghoul?"

A casual remark, his voice carried by the wind, drifting over to the ears of both allies and enemies.

Nothing much was said. It was just that, at this distance, one could vaguely make out each other’s faces.

The enemy, the ghoul-faced man, looked at Enkrid.

"What the hell?"

Handsome. It was one of those faces that made you irrationally annoyed just by looking at it.

"What?"

"Was your mother a ghoul?"

Enkrid wondered if maybe the man’s mother was of a different species. Thinking it a reasonable assumption, he pointed a finger at the man’s face.

"You son of a bitch, what did you just say?"

The enemy soldier immediately exploded in rage. It was a miracle conjured up in just two exchanges of words. Audin, hearing this, couldn’t help but marvel.

"Not even the gods could forgive such words."

Rem burst out laughing. And the others were no different.

Andrew, who had stubbornly followed despite Mack telling him not to, finally smiled brightly.

Yeah, what could a face like that possibly say?

It looked almost comically asymmetrical. A nose that seemed like it could catch raindrops.

What was up with those eyes? They were so small that it was hard to see the pupils.

Moreover, the face was riddled with sores. It was enough to be mistaken for a ghoul.

"Hahahaha!"

Andrew burst out laughing, completely unguarded.

"Alright, let’s see if your hands are as sharp as your tongue."

The enemy had taken the bait. What started with words would end with spears, swords, and blood.

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