WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Ryuu

Editor: Abstract

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A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES

Chapter 139: The Eighth Morning

Valaf-style Acupressure. That was the original name for Blood, Sweat, and Tears.

“So, what else did this Valaf guy invent besides martial arts and acupressure?”

“He developed blunt-weapon techniques. However, they were so mediocre that they’ve since faded into obscurity. He also compiled numerous texts, including interpretations of sacred scriptures.”

Valaf was a renowned figure in the temple Audin served. A legend, really. One of those names you’d only know if you made an effort to study. For most, it was a mystery.

But to those connected with the god he worshipped, it was a familiar name. Now, even Enkrid had grown familiar with the name.

Audin’s thick hands pressed firmly against his body. In the beginning, Enkrid had nearly taken a one-way trip on the ferryman’s boat down the black river.

But after taking a deep breath and gritting his teeth, he found he could endure it.

“When we begin, we press on the most painful areas first.”

As Audin explained, he gave another one of his infuriatingly sunny smiles.

“Then, we gradually move to areas that produce less pain. As we do so…”

“Hm.”

“…the tension in the muscles dissipates.”

A sense of fatigue washed over him. Each touch of Audin’s bear-like hands unraveled his knotted muscles strand by strand. Would this be worth mastering myself someday?

The Heart of the Beast had left his muscles trembling and strained to their limits, as if they were seizing up. But now, the tension and pain were receding.

“You should rest well for the rest of the day.”

Enkrid figured that was probably for the best. Though he had properly learned the Heart of the Beast, it became clear that using it recklessly would strain his body.

This gave him a newfound respect for knights. These were people who transcended human limits without relying on such techniques.

Their outer shells were human, but their strength rivaled giants, their agility mimicked creatures like Frog, and their sensitivity equaled that of elves.

That was what it meant to be a knight. In Enkrid’s tattered dream, a faint ray of light was starting to shine through.

“Why does no one stop me from wielding two swords?”

The question slipped out as fatigue dulled his mind. Whether this was the right path or a wrong one—surely, someone could have spoken up.

Even Ragna, instead of advising against it, had suggested he use a sword and shield instead.

“Why do you think, brother?”

Audin’s response, in typical priestly fashion, was to answer a question with a question.

“I wouldn’t be asking if I knew.”

Enkrid’s muffled voice carried from where he lay face-down. Audin, still smiling, answered while working on his back.

“Because from what I’ve seen, you’re stubborn. Now, go to sleep.”

Stubborn? Him?

Enkrid couldn’t accept it. Was there anyone as flexible and easygoing as he was?

Just look at how he managed to keep this lunatic squad under control, or at least something close to it.

If he were as insane as the rest of them, the squad would have fallen apart long ago.

But as Audin pressed into the back of his neck, Enkrid felt his mind drifting off.

It wasn’t like the sensation of fainting or dying, more like sinking into a deep, comfortable drowsiness. There was no reason to resist.

Resting was more important than talking right now. And so, Enkrid fell asleep.

Audin, seeing that his platoon leader was now sound asleep, rose quietly.

“They say stubborn people don’t realize they’re being stubborn.”

It didn’t seem like Enkrid was about to accept the label anytime soon.

“He’s an amusing person, our brother.”

Audin muttered softly, turning toward the tent flap.

“How long are you planning to stand there watching?”

From just outside the tent, Jaxon replied, “I’m watching the platoon leader, not you.”

Audin nodded indifferently and stepped out. Left alone inside, Jaxon gazed at Enkrid for a moment.

What a curious man. He had a way of making you wonder what he needed.

Of making you want to help.

Of making you want to teach him, even if it meant sharing your most treasured secrets.

“Not like he’d need anything of mine.”

Jaxon murmured to himself before walking away.

Nya-aah.

A small black panther snuck into Enkrid’s arms. Even in his sleep, he instinctively hugged Esther close, sinking deeper into slumber.

In his dreams, faceless figures appeared and barraged him with questions.

“Is that the right path?”

“Do you really think the way you’re going is correct?”

“You’re insane, aren’t you?”

“Stubborn to the core, doing something you know won’t work—what’s the point?”

It was a meaningless dream. Enkrid dismissed all their questions with a single answer.

“If I want to do it, I’ll do it. What does it have to do with you?”

Instead of doubts, he would ponder. And at the end of that pondering, he would take what he wanted.

That was the path he walked. Furthermore, with a clear signpost in view now, he felt more certain than ever. When Enkrid woke up, he muttered to himself, still lying on his back.

“I suppose I should explain why I’m using two swords.”

He wasn’t stubborn. No, he’d simply provide a rational explanation. After rising and testing his movements, he stepped outside and began his routine.

The Isolation Technique, sword drills, Heart of the Beast, Blade Sense, Focus Point—and now, his latest addition, the Heart of the Beast.

He kept the activation mild, careful not to strain his body unnecessarily. As the morning progressed, he added movement to his training.

By the time Audin emerged, the sun was just beginning to rise, shifting the world from blue to gold.

“Good morning, brother,” Audin said.

The chill of dawn had begun to warm, though Enkrid’s body was already radiating steam from his exertion.

Passing sentries glanced his way but didn’t engage him. Despite being treated as a hero, everyone knew better than to interrupt someone in the middle of training.

It was an unspoken rule—especially with a squad like theirs. Even the other soldiers nearby only watched from a distance, out of respect.

“Good morning.”

Enkrid didn’t waste energy on them, instead focusing on his training. Shortly after, Rem appeared.

“Platoon Leader, Platoon Leader! I’m here!”

“Yeah, I see that.”

Enkrid didn’t stop his training, even as Rem plopped down nearby, watching him with casual interest.

Not long after, Jaxon stirred. He moved quietly, as always, his actions deliberate and precise.

Then came Kraiss.

“Ugh… so nothing’s moving today either, huh? That’s not a good sign.”

The wide-eyed man stretched, yawning as he muttered to himself. Finally, Ragna emerged.

“Platoon Leader.”

He approached Enkrid directly. With everyone now gathered, Enkrid halted his drills. It was time to address the matter.

After all, he wasn’t stubborn, he just needed to provide a proper explanation.

“Do you really have to use two swords?”

It was Ragna who asked the question, breaking the silence. Enkrid nodded firmly and opened his mouth to speak.

“I intend to.”

If Ragna followed up with “why,” Enkrid was ready to answer. He had prepared for this.

Enkrid stared at Ragna, waiting for the inevitable question. But Ragna didn’t ask.

Instead, the silence stretched out. Finally, Enkrid, unable to wait any longer, decided to explain himself anyway.

“Dual-wielding feels… better.”

The reason he wanted to be a knight, why he admired them—it was simple admiration, plain and unshaken.

The reason he loved swords, because holding one in his hand just felt right. And it was the same with this.

When he realized his left hand could hold a sword just as well as his right, it struck him like a bolt of lightning.

The moment of realization:

“If I can wield two swords, why not?”

It felt natural, as though his body had been made for it.

“I didn’t ask,” Ragna finally said, breaking Enkrid’s train of thought.

“Yeah, who asked you to explain?” Rem chimed in, chuckling to himself.

That barbarian seemed to be in high spirits these days, always smirking or laughing.

“Well, no one did ask…”

“Exactly.”

Even Kraiss, seemingly lost in his thoughts, nodded absentmindedly, as if he had only just caught on to the conversation.

Was that guy even paying attention?

Audin replied with his usual, “Yes, brother.”

Meanwhile, Jaxon didn’t even pretend to care. He was sharpening his dagger with a whetstone he’d somehow procured, the shick-shick sound blending with the morning air.

“Hah!”

“Hahh!”

Around them, a few soldiers began their own training, perhaps inspired by the sight of Enkrid and his squad.

Between the sharp cries of exertion and the rhythmic scrape of Jaxon’s whetstone, Enkrid muttered to himself once more.

“Because it feels better to wield two.”

“I said no one asked,” Rem repeated, laughing.

Enkrid wanted to protest, to insist that he wasn’t being stubborn. But even thinking about it made him feel like he’d be admitting to the accusation.

What else could he do?

“Figuring out how to actually use two swords effectively—that seems more pressing, don’t you think?”

Ragna posed the question, cutting through the banter. Enkrid straightened up, organizing his thoughts. Fine. If being stubborn was the way forward, he’d own it.

The priority now was to master dual-wielding.

“Yeah.”

“From now on, the Platoon Leader has two lovers,” Ragna declared with a smirk.

Enkrid frowned. The squad had the worst way of explaining things—no finesse at all. Still, this remark felt deliberate, like something Ragna had spent time mulling over.

Was this what Ragna had been thinking about so deeply the previous night?

“Sure,” Enkrid replied, conceding.

“Both swords must be held close at all times. Sleep with them, eat with them, live with them. Keep them on your person no matter what you’re doing.”

Ragna spoke with an odd seriousness, even as his expression retained a faint flush.

Enkrid couldn’t help but notice how Ragna’s face, slightly reddened, resembled that of a young boy discovering something for the first time.

“Got it.”

That was the end of that discussion. From then on, Enkrid followed Ragna’s advice to the letter.

He honed his Isolation Technique, refined his swordsmanship, and endured countless sessions of Valaf-style Acupressure.

He trained his body, practiced his blade work, and worked tirelessly to extend how long he could sustain the Heart of the Beast.

And through it all, he kept his swords close.

No matter what he was doing—eating, sleeping, even relieving himself—his blades were always with him.

“Nyaaah.”

Esther occasionally grumbled when he brought the swords to bed, but Enkrid stuck to his regimen.

And so, seven days passed. There were no battles, only sporadic updates from the main force.

On the fifth day, Kraiss approached with a grim expression.

“This isn’t looking good.”

“Why?”

“The main force’s battle is dragging on,” Kraiss explained.

“And why is that bad?”

Azpen’s forces weren’t to be underestimated, even if Naurillia couldn’t commit its full strength due to internal issues.

Still, Naurillia was a powerful nation, and Azpen holding its own was a testament to their resilience. Kraiss, with the experience he had gleaned, kept his explanation concise.

“Think about it. If we had the advantage and managed to hit their flank, we should’ve broken through by now. But we haven’t. Even with all our advantages, we’re stuck.”

“So?”

Kraiss shot Enkrid a long, weary look.

Are you seriously going to make me spell this out? his eyes seemed to say. But Enkrid simply stared back, calm and unbothered.

“Well, if we can’t push through, there’s only one option left, isn’t there?” Kraiss finally said aloud.

“And that is?”

“We hit their rear. Hard. Fast. And we make it count.”

Enkrid understood.

The 4th Battalion of the Cyprus Brigade’s 4th Regiment wasn’t done yet. The Border Guard Reserve still had a role to play.

It meant one thing—a battle was imminent.

“Understood,” Enkrid said as he resumed swinging his swords.

There was a hint of anticipation in his voice. What could Azpen be hiding in their rear?

That was on the fifth day.

By the eighth morning, the answer came crashing down.

“Ambush!”

The enemy had struck first.

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