WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Ryuu

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES

Chapter 151: About the Impossible

It was early morning.

The time when the end of dawn met the beginning of the day.

As the sun began to rise, the training ground on one side of the drill field was bathed in an orange hue.

How many people would come to the drill field at this hour? If not for the patrolling night watch, Enkrid would have been the only one.

Seeing someone already at the training ground before him at this hour was a rare sight.

No, it felt like the first time. Enkrid pondered as he placed his right hand on his waist and saluted.

It was a worthy opponent.

The host of yesterday's banquet and the current commander responsible for the city of Border Guard.

Nod.

Battalion Commander Marcus nodded in acknowledgment of the salute.

Marcus wasn’t alone. It was rarer for him to be alone. Two others were with him. The two standing in the shade at the corner of the training ground.

One of them, a Frog, stepped forward.

It was difficult for human eyes to fully distinguish Frog's appearance. But it was clear that this Frog was different from the ones he had met before.

No scars on the neck and no fierce gaze. Instead, there was only curiosity and a slight puffing of the white cheeks.

Gurgle.

Frog made a unique sound and scanned Enkrid's entire body with those large eyes.

From head to toe.

Then from toe to head, stopping at the face. It was a skill that made it clear where his gaze was directed.

“An introduction seems necessary.”

Marcus spoke from behind. It was a timely suggestion. Frog stopped gurgling and opened his mouth.

“Frog.”

Well, that much was obvious just by looking at his face.

Even if it wasn’t the face, just the three fingers would suffice. After all, his appearance itself was of a different species.

“Too long.”

The other person behind him stepped forward. No, it wasn’t just stepping forward.

Enkrid momentarily saw an illusion. An illusion of his neck being cut. The illusion came first, followed by the reaction.

Clang!

The sound of metal clashing echoed across the training ground. Enkrid blocked the sword strike with his half-drawn sword.

When had he drawn it?

If it wasn’t for the instinct born from countless deaths would he have died? Or would his opponenthave stopped?

He wasn’t sure of either.

“You blocked that?”

The opponent’s voice was heard. The voice was thin and high. A woman with short hair tied tightly back.

Her round face looked gentle, but the sword in her hand was anything but.

“Shall we continue?”

With a voice full of leisure, the blade struck again. What should he call this? There was no other way to describe it but as a strike.

Enkrid saw the blade falling from above his head. He saw the blade stabbing his stomach. His neck was cut, and his arm severed. His thigh was stabbed and he even saw the sword stabbing his instep.

It felt like standing naked in a storm. Akin to boarding a small boat and facing a tsunami.

‘If I don’t get out of here right now, I’ll die.’

The shadow of death loomed.

No matter how many times I repeat today, no matter how much of a stepping stone for growth lies at the end, cutting out and forgetting all fear is impossible for a human.

Enkrid was just a madman who knows how to fight against fear.

‘If I retreat.’

In the storm of blades, Enkrid realized that retreating would allow him to avoid this.

Just retreating would end it. He wouldn’t have to stand alone in this storm anymore. So, would he retreat?

“Dreams are there to be given up.”

“You’re giving me a headache.”

“Are you crazy? What? A knight? A mere mercenary?”

“Sorry, it was my first real battle.”

“Go back to the village. Farm, or if you don’t like that, join the village militia. You might even become the militia captain.”

With a mocking laugh.

The faces of those who had spoken to him so far flashed through his mind.

A heart pounding madly. They said to give up, that it was meaningless. They also asked,

Is the path you’re on now the right one?

In the storm of blades, Enkrid died countless times. Yet, there was no blackout, and no ferryman appeared.

He just died. Again and again. Countless times.

The light faded. Instead of the dawn’s sunlight, the shadow of death loomed. Everything struck his body with pain and agony.

He already knew the answer.

Just retreat.

Just one step was enough.

One step back.

The storm of blades urged him. Retreat, this is not your place to stand. It told him that, he would be freed from all this pain and agony by retreating

He knew and recognized it.

Yet, he couldn’t retreat.

He also knew that retreating here wouldn’t affect his actual swordsmanship, trained body, or anything else.

Yet, he couldn’t retreat. Even knowing that just retreating would end everything,

He couldn’t retreat.

The faded and torn dream asked.

“Is this how you’ll become a knight?”

The words of those who had passed by in life didn’t shake his heart.

There was no reason to.

But this wasn’t it.

This couldn’t be.

The moment he decided to become a knight, Enkrid had the sharpest sword. It was will, belief, and could even be called stubbornness.

If his heart broke, there would be no place to stand. He couldn’t retreat the steps he had taken, even if it was half a step or crawling forward.

Enkrid didn’t even think of retreating.

It…

‘It’s not enough.’

He realized his own inadequacy. The coordination of his body, the sense of evasion. What if he had trained more, mastered it completely?

Wat about the heart of monstrous strength? Even the isolation technique and Valaf-style martial arts would have helped.

If he had diligently trained his basics, straightened his sword like a mustache, what then?

All of that could have been the foundation to overcome this situation.

Enkrid couldn’t retreat.

“Enough.”

The storm ended as suddenly as it had begun. The moment Frog stepped in, it disappeared as if washed away.

“Hoo.”

Enkrid exhaled the breath he had been holding. His heart pounded as if it would leap out of his mouth. His legs trembled and he wanted to sit down. But he held back.

Instead, he looked at his opponent. The woman with short hair and a gentle appearance.

Enkrid focused on one desire.

He wanted to know what trick she had just used.

“It’s the first time I’ve seen someone like you. Enduring this without knowing how to handle it? If you had held on a little longer, you’d be dead.”

The owner of the storm, standing next to Frog, spoke.

“Who?”

Enkrid asked, parting his lips that wouldn’t fall.

“Me? Aisia.”

As she spoke, she took a step forward.

Flutter.

The woman who had stepped forward unfolded the cloak she had thrown over her shoulders and wrapped it around herself.

The fluttering, unfolded cloak was a red that cut through the orange morning.

A red cloak, with Frog and escorted by Marcus, who could she be?

“The Red Cloak Knights?”

Enkrid murmured the question, and the woman nodded.

“Squire Aisia.”

A smile that matched her gentle appearance, the woman’s smile was bright.

That was it.

Standing straight and looking was the best Enkrid could do. Then, his nerves snapped. His vision went black, and the ferryman appeared.

‘Am I dead?’

No, it didn’t feel like that. He wasn’t dead. Then, was this a dream? As he repeatedly questioned himself.

“It’s a dream.”

The ferryman said. Even now, it was strange that his words could be heard given that he had no eyes, face or a mouth.

“I’ll be watching.”

As the ferryman spoke, another question arose in Enkrid.

“Haven’t you been watching until now?”

At those words, the boat floating on the black river seemed to tilt slightly. Suddenly, just as it had begun, the dream ended.

The flickering of darkness and light. Only the ferryman’s last words brushed past his ears.

“You skipped training today, huh?”

What? Why does this sound like teasing? It could be. There’s no rule that ferrymen can’t tease people.

But the tone was somehow strange.

Enkrid ignored it.

If pondering wouldn’t give an answer, then ignoring was the solution.

By the way.

Before fainting, he thought he heard Jaxon’s voice. As Enkrid fell, Frog reached out but stopped.

Someone had already caught him from behind. Chestnut hair and calm eyes.

“You’re quite the joker.”

A quiet friend indeed.

Frog thought as he turned his gaze to the side. There, a rather rough-looking friend was glaring at him fiercely.

“What are you up to this early in the morning?”

Gray hair and gray eyes, from the western frontier?

Behind him, a man as large as a bear stood.

“Hoho, brothers and sisters, good morning, isn’t it? May I ask why you’re doing this to my precious little squad leader?”

What’s with these guys.

Frog thought anew.

Behind the three, a blond man with red eyes holding a sword was also visible. Clearly a northerner with striking features.

His hair was a mess, and there were traces of drool at the corners of his mouth.

‘The way he holds the sword is quite good.’

Frog liked it very much. He had come here at Marcus’s request, and wanted to assess one person’s talent.

He wanted to know if he had the qualities to become a knight. Frog stoppedby on his way back from the frontlines after the battle.

Frog’s eyes were different from humans and elves.

He assessed a talent that couldn’t be fulfilled through training.

With their unique perspective, people called experienced Frogs like him Able Deciders, talent assessors.

The Frog who had stepped forward now was a talent assessor. It wasn’t like he could tell at a glance, but sometimes just looking was enough.

Especially if it was a gem that shone alone even in the mud.

These people were like that.

In Frog’s eyes, they were one in ten thousand, and among them, one in a thousand.

“Who are these guys?”

“Mad Platoon members.”

Marcus answered from behind. He had already given a rough explanation. He had said they were all crazy. It was strange how they only followed their squad leader.

‘A pity.’

But there was no room to take them in right now.

Moreover, the enemies they were facing now weren’t the kind to be taken lightly. Having such talent didn’t mean they would all become ‘knights.’

In fact, there was no need to take them in.

What was a knight?

In a world where all conditions must be met to even reach the tip of their toe, and a title for those who gather such people.

“Interesting bunch.”

Aisia spoke from behind. She wasn’t the combative type. She had just done the test Marcus wanted.

Aisia spoke while showing her palms. She had no intention of fighting. Enkrid would have been quite surprised to know.

After the first strike, she had sheathed her sword and never drew it again.

It was all done with momentum and pressure.

Momentum and pressure—using force to bring the opponent to the brink of unconsciousness.

Something only a squire-level knight could attempt. In fact, it was quite inefficient. It would be better to just knock them out with one strike.

What’s the point of going all out like this, expending so much mental energy?

Aisia had only done it because of Marcus’s request.

A test for a promising sprout, that was all.

There was no need for a fierce atmosphere. Moreover, Marcus’s words had drawn all their attention.

“Well? Can he become a knight?”

If there’s potential, he could become a squire. Soon to be assigned under a knight.

Marcus’s gift.

It was certainly not cheap.

What was Enkrid’s dream?

What he desired, what he wanted most. That’s what made a gift valuable, right?

Marcus thought he was putting what he had learned in politics to good use. He had prepared what the other desired most.

The question was asked.

Aisia spoke first.

“No.”

Then Frog.

“Not a chance.”

What is a knight?

Gathering ten thousand talented people, and selecting a thousand from them. Then, selecting a few from that thousand.

Those who enter that world are called knights.

“This one is difficult. What about that one? Interested?”

Frog asked while looking at one person. The large, round eyes resembling a frog focused on Ragna. Ragna blinked his sleepy eyes and said,

“Not interested.”

He was just a lazy bum without his squad leader. He knew himself best, so the refusal was natural.

‘This is… Well.’

Frog clicked his tongue in disappointment.

Looking at them, female Frogs would surely be interested. With such skills, joining the knights would be quite enjoyable.

But they refused?

Even the Red Cloak Knights’ offer?

They couldn’t take everyone, but they could take one.

“Interesting guys. I’ve done the favor. Don’t forget, Battalion Commander Marcus.”

“Ah, of course.”

Aisia and Marcus spoke from behind. Aisia tapped Frog’s back.

“What are you doing? Let’s go.”

Both had much to do.

They had to return to the capital and report on the Azpen agreement following the victory.

And there was a mountain of other tasks.

“I’ll stay a few more days.”

“Huh?”

Aisia tilted her head. The tightly tied ponytail swung left and right.

What’s that supposed to mean?

“Go ahead.”

Frog said. Aisia was about to say something but closed her mouth.

There would be no problem going alone.

Her affiliation proved her identity. She was a member of the Red Cloak Knights.

Frog didn’t need to add anything. Moreover, Frogs were hedonists who couldn’t control their desires and interests.

So leaving him was the answer. He must have been interested in that red-haired soldier.

“Alright, then.”

Aisia turned around with those words. And coincidentally, Benzence, who had volunteered for the night watch, saw it all.

He had come to the morning training to talk to Enkrid after the embarrassing scene at the banquet night, but he saw everything.

No one paid much attention to him. That the path of a knight was impossible for Enkrid, what was the big deal?

The world was full of such people.

“I’ll stay for a few days.”

Frog said to Marcus and Marcus nodded.

With Enkrid unconscious, the morning meeting ended.

Join our discord at https://dsc.gg/wetried