WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Ryuu

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES

Chapter 149: Feeling Honor

Amidst the tall leaves behind the podium, petals of red and pink fluttered in the air.

In the flowerbed behind the training ground, yellow flowers bloomed brightly, revealing their beauty.

The smell of sweat was evident, but a flowerbed in a place where swords and spears clash...

It was said to be a remnant from when Border Guard was still a trading city.

Even after that, maintaining that flowerbed became synonymous with the duty of the battalion commander responsible for the city.

It was said to be proof that the city was safe.

With the passing of winter and the arrival of spring, it had been a while since I last saw flowers.

“It’s a symbol that this city is safe.”

The florist had said something like that. A few florists from the city were in charge of managing the flowerbed in Border Guard.

Looking at the flowers made me think that it was also important to relax my shoulders.

Not too stiff.

Loose but not slack.

I didn’t think it was fitting, but sometimes it was necessary to loosen up while looking at flowers.

As I relaxed my shoulders, the shape of the petals resembled a straight sword. What was the name of that flower again?

The one with red, pointed petals—I definitely remember its nickname.

Sword Flower.

A flower called the Sword Flower. It was said to be a flower that reacted only to the magic of spring.

Looking at the sword-like petals, a question came to mind, “How can I make a vertical slash cleaner?”

Due to the question, a journey of contemplation began in my mind.

That mustache.

A man who walked a completely different path from mine. It was something refined that I hadn’t even felt in Ragna’s sword.

A sword built through talent and effort—it resonated with me.

I wanted it. I wanted to possess it. I wanted to swallow it whole and digest it. I still felt a thirst, a longing.

What a single sip of water meant to a traveler walking through the desert—the sword, the knight, the dream, and the skill meant to Enkrid.

‘Slowly.’

If you rush, you’re bound to stumble and fall. Moreover, has rushing ever worked out well?

Even without talent, there are things you can see if you don’t despair or give up. That’s not being impatient, nor is it being too relaxed.

Find the middle ground between the two opposing ends.

Loose but not slack.

That’s when you can run at the fastest speed you’re capable of.

Enkrid moved his steps onto the podium while lost in such thoughts. The podium marked the end of his thoughts.

Marcus stood in front of it.

They faced each other and locked eyes. Their gazes exchanged and Marcus’s eyes curved softly.

It was the kind of look you’d give when playing a fun prank. The training ground was quiet.

How should I put it?

The atmosphere itself was different.

A warm breeze blew through the sunlight and petals swayed with it. It was a peaceful and serene afternoon.

The time Audin’s divinity touched me came to mind. The tranquility of that moment enveloped the surroundings.

“I’ve been thinking.”

Marcus opened his mouth.

A voice that echoed in the quiet.

It wasn’t loud enough to reach every corner of the training ground, only audible to those nearby.

“What do you mean?”

Enkrid responded, standing straight.

“What should I give to satisfy a soldier who has achieved such merit?”

At those words, Enkrid’s mind briefly thought of a good sword or Krona.

But would he really be satisfied with that?

Surely not.

It would be somewhat enjoyable, but...

What if he went a step further?

‘Magic armor?’

He roughly understood the value of the leather armor that wrapped around him. Its value was gradually diminishing.

Spells weren’t eternal.

He had heard that magical equipment had their limits. It was just something he had heard in passing, so he wasn’t sure if it was true.

However, wasn’t it proven after using it?

The lifespan of the leather armor was almost over.

The leather gauntlet seemed similar to magical equipment. If not, how could it possess such strength?

If it weren’t for this gauntlet, he woukd have lost his hand—rather than just his wrist—during the fight with Frog, instead of just his wrist.

‘That’s terrifying to think about.’

If he died after losing a wrist, wouldn’t he become something like a one-armed swordsman?

Losing a wrist is better than losing an arm, but...

No, both are the worst.

Thinking about it now, there were more than a few things to be careful about.

Losing your life was indeed painful, but in a way, it was something to welcome.

However, if you suffered a fatal injury and lived to see the next day...

‘There’s a lot to think about.’

Not that Enkrid was deeply pondering. He wasn’t the type to overthink in the first place. And in reality, he didn’t have the energy for it.

‘Distractions.’

It wasn’t limited to just relaxing his shoulders, it also included getting rid of distracting thoughts.

Forget them. Even immersing himself in the sword completely and his dream wouldn’t be enough.

Could he really become a knight?

It was still a question he carried, and the answer was still unknown.

“So, I thought.”

Marcus continued. Enkrid focused on the man in front of him—listening intently and properly attentive.

“I should give a sincere gift. You can look forward to it, Squad Leader.”

The word “expectation” came up.

Knowing himself, he rarely showed emotion over trivial matters. Honestly, he didn’t have any expectations.

Later, Battalion Commander Marcus gave him Krona and a finely crafted dagger.

It was said to be a dagger awarded only to those who had achieved great merit for the royal family.

Upon receiving it, the balance felt off. It wasn’t practical. It was a dagger just for proving one’s status.

“By receiving the royal dagger, your status is assured. Whenever you display it in the capital, you will be treated as a guest of the royal family.”

Enkrid really thought it was nothing special.

Honestly.

But the soldiers watching from below the podium thought differently.

“…Enkrid.”

“Enkrid.”

“Enkrid.”

There were no childish cheers like “Hooray.”

Instead, all the soldiers chanted Enkrid’s name. No shouts or battle cries, just murmurs.

Everyday whispers.

Words coming from their mouths.

But with hundreds of soldiers speaking as one.

“Enkrid.”

It hit his ears like a roar.

“Hehe, it seems like they’re happier than you. Turn around.”

At Marcus’s words, Enkrid turned around.

It was quite an amusing sight.

Ten days after returning from the battlefield to the city, it seemed like he had grown closer to those in the unit compared to before.

Those who had once made vulgar remarks about him now bowed their heads.

Those who saw him for the first time looked at him with respect and admiration.

He had already been recognized on the battlefield. Back then, the battalion commander had called for cheers.

Who were those cheers for?

It had been a good experience, but...

This was different.

The podium was high. Just about the height of a person.

He could look down from above—at the heat emanating from all the soldiers. That heat seemed to take form and envelop him.

Realizing that his actions had created this moment,

“What makes a knight?”

Skill? If it were just about wielding a sword, well, that wouldn’t make a knight.

“If that’s what you wanted, you should have been a mercenary.”

The words of a swordsmanship instructor from some city still lingered in his mind.

Back then, he had asked.

What makes a knight?

What do you look at to call someone a knight?

“Skill is a given.”

Skill, with honor and merit piled on top, and proving oneself.

“It’s changed a bit these days, but when legends throughout history were discussed in the past, that’s how it was.”

Did he just want to be someone who could swing a sword well? No, no. His childhood dream had started that way, but...

As he grew older and realized the limits of his talent.

A hole in his stomach from the sword of someone much younger.

Losing comrades.

Realizing that skill and character aren’t proportional.

Even knowing his limits, he swung his sword. With all his heart, as if every moment were his last.

Living today as if tomorrow wouldn’t come, throwing himself into the waves of time.

Being swept away by the waves, but never forgetting the sword while holding onto a faded and torn dream.

For a long time, the thing that sustained Enkrid was his heart.

A knight was someone who upholded the standards they set for themselves.

Enkrid believed that.

Someone who moves forward without forgetting honor—he decided to become that.

It was only natural to feel joy in such a position. Standing before them, and proving himself.

Feeling honor.

“This is fun.”

Enkrid murmured softly. It was hard to tell his emotions just from his voice. But Marcus, standing behind him, sensed something unfamiliar in Enkrid’s words.

It was like the last time; something he had forgotten for a while.

The sword and the light.

‘Is it passion?’

Marcus smiled. He thought Enkrid was a really interesting guy.

Hr was very curious about what effect the prepared gift would have on the man in front of him.

“That’s all.”

Marcus said.

Enkrid turned and saluted.

“Enkrid.”

As he descended through the soldiers chanting his name, a path opened between the soldiers who stepped aside.

“This is nice.”

He saw his squad members welcoming him.

Rem, grinning and laughing.

Jaxon, leaning on his crutch, looking indifferent.

“You were like a deity responding to prayers, brother.”

Audin, muttering something hard to understand.

“Are we going back now?”

Ragna, who found such events tedious.

“This is nice.”

Kraiss, who seemed uninterested if it wasn’t about Krona.

Next to them, Andrew and Mack called out his name with excited faces.

“Enkrid.”

“Squad Leader.”

Hmm, this wasn’t just “not bad.” If this wasn’t enjoyable, that would be strange.

“Let’s go back.”

But nothing had changed.

Ten days after returning, Border Guard was quiet. The rewards and punishments had been decided. So, what was next?

Training, of course. He was already thinking about how to wield his sword.

“Hey, today’s a party. Let’s eat and drink!”

On the podium, Marcus revealed his true intentions. Wait, can a battalion commander act like that?

Weren’t those people behind him nobles?

Sure enough, as Enkrid turned, he saw a group of nobles frowning. But strangely, no one stepped forward to say anything.

What was it?

Did he threaten to cut their throats if they spoke up?

‘No, that’s something Rem would do.’

Marcus was a commander from the capital. He had no reason or need to do something so reckless.

So, why were they reacting like that?

Enkrid decided to ignore the nobles’ affairs. In truth, there was no need to dig into it. What would it change?

Knowing wouldn’t make a difference.

“Party!”

“Cheers!”

“This is great! I love it!”

The soldiers shouted. It felt like their eardrums would burst.

“Well, I hope something good comes out of this. If they just give us cheap wine, I’ll want to chop off that bastard’s head with my axe.”

At the mention of a party, Rem grinned and spoke. He seemed to be in a good mood again.

The problem was, every time he was in a good mood, he wanted to split his superior’s head open.

‘Well, at least it’s not my head.’

Thinking about it, Rem had never seriously said he wanted to split my head open.

Though he had joked about wanting to crack my head open to see what’s inside. However, that was just a joke.

“This is annoying.”

Ragna expressed his honest feelings.

Enkrid wanted to agree with Ragna’s sentiment.

He wanted to train.

He wanted to quickly embody the mustached man’s sword that he had seen and experienced.

“With a stiff mind, you can only see stiff things. You need to rest when it’s time to rest.”

As he thought that, Jaxon spoke up. Was it due to his keen senses? He seemed to have noticed Enkrid’s state.

“Everyone, rest well. I’ll be back shortly.”

Kraiss’s voice came from behind, but it quickly faded as he ran off.

When a party was held, a gambling den naturally opened.

So, it was Kraiss’s game.

He wasn’t actually gambling, but running the game to collect fees.

Kraiss still couldn’t understand those who wasted Krona on gambling.

“No, it’s not like that. Why throw Krona at randomly dealt cards? If you meet a gambler, it’s not random—you’ll definitely lose.”

There’s no reason to spend Krona on gambling. It was a valid point.

Kraiss disappeared into the crowd of soldiers.

Enkrid watched Kraiss’s back as he left. It was still strange to think that the big-eyed soldier had come up with such a clever strategy.

“No need to split your head open, brother.”

Audin murmured from behind. In front, the battalion commander was happily holding a bottle of alcohol.

“This is good stuff! Today, everyone drinks the same! Any objections? If so, step up!”

That guy doesn’t seem normal either. Marcus shouted, offering the alcohol to enjoy. As Enkrid watched, Finn approached and said,

“Want a drink?”

“Huh?”

It had been a while since he last drank.

There hadn’t been any occasion for it. He was too busy training. Drinking dulls the body’s control. That meant one can’t train properly.

Enjoying a party and drinking were two different things.

He was about to politely decline when...

“No, human woman, that’s my spot. He’s my fiancée.”

A voice came from behind.

Huh?

“……Fiancée? An elf?”

Finn muttered. Enkrid took a step back. The elf company commander approached with silent steps.

“Drink with me.”

Was this an order or a suggestion? As Finn and the elf company commander appeared, a strange atmosphere formed.

“Kyaa.”

Esther also slipped in between. After letting out a fierce cry, Esther snuggled into Enkrid’s arms.

What’s going on here?

“…Damn seductress.”

Rem muttered.

Before he could explain the misunderstanding, the surrounding soldiers cheered for Enkrid in a different way.

“The Alluring Squad Leader!”

Damn it, just when I thought they had forgotten.

The word “seductress” burst out again.

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