WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES

Chapter 185: Did You Beat Up the Kids?

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The Cultist hierarchy was similar to an ordinary temple.

Pope, then Cardinal, Bishop, Priest, and believer below that.

Sometimes monks were placed between priests and believers.

Usually, when people said High Priest or senior priest, they meant bishop rank or higher.

That blond man was a bishop.

He also held another public status, and it was far from low, meaning he was one of the strongest trees grown from the seeds the Cultists had scattered.

"So you're saying you failed because of one mere platoon leader?"

"Yes."

At the lower priest's reply, the bishop frowned. His handsome face twisted into something vicious.

What nonsense.

How does a Gnoll colony collapse because of one platoon leader?

"It wasn't some knight order member stepping in and meddling?"

"No, sir."

"Right, that would make no sense."

The bishop said it himself, then shook his own head.

Did the Naurillia Kingdom really have enough room to send knight order members or troops here right now?

Not even close.

They had piles of problems to clean up right away. No, piles that could not even be cleaned up.

All across the kingdom's lands, bandits called the Black Blades were running wild.

To the west, there was a plunder city built by frontier settlers who had banded together.

To the east, a country ruled by a human butcher kept provoking them whenever it could.

It would have been nice if that were the end of it, but trouble was overflowing from every direction like a flood.

For example, the power struggle between nobles and royals.

When you got down to it, all of this came from the split between the royalist faction and the noble faction.

The kingdom's strength had been divided.

That was why outsiders started poking their heads in to see if there was anything to grab.

Azpen in the north had picked a fight, and this time they seemed to have taken a hard hit.

Wasn't that overkill, though?

In the bishop's view, it was. They pulled part of the troops stationed in the south and west and smashed Azpen with them. Yes, they had no choice there either.

If they had left it alone, they would have lost the entire Green Pearl Plain up north.

Still, the bishop had expected them to barely hold and maintain the status quo. Instead, Naurillia won a major victory.

In any case, they had burned their strength stopping Azpen.

While they were stretched thin, the western plunder city quietly reached in too.

And didn't that human butcher kingdom in the southeast step forward as well?

And what about the Black Blade bandits? Would they just stand there and watch?

On top of that, they failed to suppress the stirring of Demon Creatures in the kingdom's south, so a dark gloom was spreading over the southern region, or so he heard.

He had heard refugees were arriving in endless lines too.

But would it be over once Azpen backed off?

What about the conflicts among the remaining cities?

If Azpen withdrew, what was left?

Green Pearl remained. And trade routes opening in all directions would remain too.

After that, all of them would claw at each other to steal more while measuring the size of each other's loaf.

The kingdom that should mediate would be drained dry, so it could hardly stop them.

It was amazing the place had not collapsed yet.

That was exactly why the bishop was here.

There were many gaps, much to devour, and much that had rotted.

How could anyone look away from such a tempting slab of meat?

The Cursed Ground Holy Sect had not settled here for no reason.

What about the goods and capital they had poured into this side all this time?

This place was more than fit to become a new Cursed Ground. It could become holy ground.

One part of that preparation had been ruined, and that made him furious.

Because of one mere platoon leader?

How much Krona had gone into that preparation again?

It was nowhere near a few gold coins. And what about the equipment put on the Gnolls?

The Krona the Cultists had invested went straight into Pioneer Village's hands. As part of that compensation, Enkrid received some financial reward.

More precisely, Kraiss stepped in like a broker and collected it.

The bishop had no way of knowing that much.

He was simply displeased.

What should he do? He thought for a short while.

Wasn't it just one platoon leader?

Had he gotten lucky?

In truth, no one on this side had watched Enkrid fight.

A small number of Demon Creatures survived, but Gnolls were not going to pass on reports.

Luck, then. The more he thought about it, the more plausible it sounded.

The wall had been sturdy, a believer who infiltrated first had likely been caught by chance, then while cleaning that up, the priest's identity was exposed as well.

Then by chance again, the place had already been prepared as if for a siege.

...Still, were there not too many coincidences?

He probably had some skill too.

Even so, the conclusion was luck.

Then.

Just because he had good luck once, would it last forever?

Probably not.

"Send a believer with talent for assassination."

If there was a problem, you controlled it. That was what the bishop did.

Of course, he never got to hear any news about Enkrid being assassinated.

The bishop did not care to listen for such news anyway.

He only prepared for what came next.

If he were a member of the kingdom, what would the greatest problem be?

Not the Black Blades, not the rise of Demon Creatures, not even the surrounding nations snapping like wolf packs.

Their biggest problem would be the Cultists.

And among those they called Cultists, he himself was the core of this entire region.

The bishop prepared for the next move. He forgot Enkrid quickly.

Sometimes people like that appeared and did astonishing things. Sometimes they were no more than ordinary soldiers, but it never lasted.

He survived among a thousand Demon Creatures? Fine, call it incredible luck. Then what? What would he do when the next crisis came? He was dead sooner or later anyway.

So the bishop ignored him.

* * *

Border Guard was still Border Guard. Nothing had changed from before.

"You're back, sir?"

No, something had changed.

The attitude was different.

The way soldiers treated Enkrid had changed completely.

A soldier on duty at the outer gate gave him a formal salute.

Enkrid gave a rough nod back, and then he saw a familiar face.

"Did you come out to greet me?"

It was the Elf Company Commander. In her usual tone, she took Enkrid's joke and doubled it.

"My husband has arrived, so I should come. If my fiance came back with something cut off, that would be a problem. If an especially important part got cut off, I would have to give up one of life's pleasures."

Wasn't that joke a bit much? While Enkrid thought that, the elf continued without a hint of a smile.

"If your arms were gone, I couldn't hug you. But both arms look fine, so I think you're alright."

Her gaze swept over Enkrid's whole body as she spoke. Something felt different.

The elf's instincts were sharp.

"I need to go report to the Battalion Commander."

"Go."

She nodded at Enkrid's answer and continued on her way. She seemed to be heading out for business.

So she had not come to greet him after all. It was a coincidence.

Enkrid gave a military salute to the departing elf and turned away. She moved fast, so she clearly had somewhere to be.

As expected, coincidence.

No way she had actually come out to greet him.

She was not someone with nothing to do.

Once he entered the city, Esther vanished.

"Should I leave too?"

"No."

He sent Kraiss off as well, and only Finn stayed with him.

Finn sank into silent thought, then suddenly spoke. Her tone had a strange force to it.

"I made up my mind."

"...About what?"

"I give up on knocking you down."

...She was still aiming for that?

"Instead, I'll set my sights on Audin."

Finn's eyes shone. Enkrid shook his head inwardly.

One thing if it was him, but Audin?

That one was beyond merely being absorbed in religion. He used Divine Power. Which meant he was a priest.

Of course, being a priest did not mean no marriage and no women.

Still, Audin?

That bear would really take a woman to bed?

Enkrid just nodded in silence.

"The Alluring Squad Leader is out of my range."

Finn spat that nonsense and strode off on her own.

"Weren't you coming to report with me?"

Apparently not. Left alone, Enkrid headed to Marcus's office.

He entered and gave a formal salute. Marcus watched silently, then spoke.

"I already got word. But I received conflicting reports."

Conflicting reports?

"I don't understand what you mean."

What he did not know, he did not know. Pointless guesses only made pointless words.

He had heard Pioneer Village would contact them.

Marcus rested his chin on his hand.

"Pioneer Village says they will name the wall after you, and that you cut down a thousand Gnolls, and so on."

Were they really going to put his name on the wall?

He doubted they would do that officially, but the Village Headman, Doitchi Fullman, and that craftsman had all been serious.

Since it was mentioned in an official report, it was certain.

They were all insane.

"And the other report is from a commander in Viscount Bantara's force. He says it looked like about fifty Gnolls killed, and told us to warn you not to claim exaggerated achievements. So, let me ask our platoon leader, which one is true?"

Enkrid answered right away.

"Believe what you want to believe."

If he told them what to believe, would they actually believe it?

Did his words carry that kind of weight?

The other man was a Battalion Commander, the commanding officer representing the city. Then he must already know the answer.

More than anything, Marcus's eyes were already saying it. His face looked dry and faintly tired, but his eyes were smiling.

"Is that so?"

"Yes, sir."

Marcus watched Enkrid's calm answer closely. Where had this kind of man come from?

"Still a knight?"

"Yes."

"I see."

What exactly was he trying to say?

"I saw Cultists."

In any case, he had to report the key point. Pioneer Village was not far from Border Guard, and the appearance of Cultists was a sensitive issue.

"Those bastards."

Marcus gave his view, then lifted the hand supporting his chin and took a sip of tea.

Cold tea slid down his throat.

A thousand Gnolls.

Not alone in one burst, no. Even a squire-class fighter would struggle with that, would they not?

He was not certain, but that was Marcus's judgment. Either way, Enkrid's might could not be ignored. From the start, he had let the words of Viscount Bantara's force go in one ear and out the other.

Marcus knew Enkrid.

Of course, it was hard to believe he had literally carved through a huge colony.

Still, he must have built merits on a similar level.

If Marcus had seen it himself, maybe he would not have thought this way, but honestly anyone would struggle to believe such a story.

That was the kind of thing Enkrid had done.

This was not because the commander from Viscount Bantara's force was an idiot, though the man was half an idiot, but because the claim itself was genuinely hard to accept.

Most likely, the village people were drunk on the joy of surviving a line between life and death.

After considering various thoughts, Marcus spoke.

"Do you love this city?"

"I don't dislike it."

"Do you have a lover?"

"No."

"Then perhaps?"

"I like women."

Conversations with quick people were easy and comfortable. Marcus nodded and said:

"Effective this moment, the Independent Platoon is promoted to a Company. You are now a Company Commander."

"...Is that right?"

He had handled one outside mission and returned. If the merit from that mission was properly recognized, yes, it was no small thing.

But Marcus had just said there were conflicting reports.

And still, Company Commander?

"My platoon does not even have ten members."

"It's a company now."

What kind of company had fewer than ten troops?

"Does that make sense?"

"I am the one responsible for this city. If I do it, it makes sense."

It sounded forced.

"Are you cursing your superior with your eyes?"

"No, sir."

Still sounded forced.

"It's not forced."

Those were the Battalion Commander's words. What could Enkrid do? He could only nod.

He ended his report with a formal salute and turned around.

"I'd like you to love this city."

"I'll do my best."

A textbook soldier's answer.

He said that and headed for his old barracks.

"You back?"

How should he put this.

Even if he returned to the village where he was born, he did not think it would feel like this.

That was exactly it. It felt like coming home. Rem stood there as always, holding an axe. A quiet expectation in those eyes pushed Enkrid forward.

They were the kind of eyes that would not permit even a short rest.

Then again, when had he ever rested the moment he returned?

The road back had been peaceful. He had rested enough on the way.

Enkrid's gaze moved to Rem's face.

The scratches Rem had before Enkrid left were gone without a trace. The moment he saw that, his goal rose again in his mind.

"Spar?"

The word came out on its own, with his heart already pounding.

Rem's mouth curled up. He grinned wide.

"So you got a bit better? I heard you cut down a few hundred Demon Creatures. Heard you were flying around out there. Let's see it. Let's see how much fun you had."

As he spoke, Rem gripped his axe with both hands and took one step forward.

Enkrid felt a strange sensation.

Before, he had never understood what that one step meant before a fight.

No, he could not understand it.

Now he knew.

Right foot half a step ahead, first axe strike from the left.

Center of gravity, movement for what came next, Rem showed all of it naturally. He did not even try to hide his intent.

Whether he knew Enkrid could read it or not, Rem narrowed his eyes and stared at him.

"Something feels off."

Enkrid realized this was not the same old spot in front of the barracks.

Before Rem could answer, Ragna and the others came out one by one.

There were no other soldiers around.

No, now that he looked closer, there was a training ground.

Right in front of the barracks. The surroundings had been cleared out, and there was even a low fence.

"I heard the Company Commander made us our own private training yard."

Kraiss had already arrived and said it. The sharp bastard had read what Enkrid was thinking.

Why bother?

"I roughed those guys up a bit, and the Company Commander said we were interfering with the other soldiers' training."

Rem said it in a calm tone, still full of force, and jerked his thumb behind him as if it were no big deal.

"Even barbarians are not allowed to kill allies inside camp, so he told us to do it here."

Ragna said that from behind him.

"I think it was because of the noise. They kept making a ruckus. Not me."

Jaxon added his own line, sweeping a hand over the group.

"Heh heh. Our brothers getting along looked so enjoyable, perhaps he worried the other soldier brothers might start joining in too."

Audin spoke too. Seeing them all talk so much made it look like they were welcoming him.

The training ground, the real reason could not possibly be what they were saying.

So this was a kind of joke. They started as the Troublemaker Squad and became the Madmen Platoon, and now they knew each other well enough to throw jokes like this around.

"Did you beat up the kids?"

At Enkrid's words, Rem furrowed his brow.

"Do I look like some guy who goes around beating people up whenever he's bored?"

"...You're the first one in a long time to shut me up like this, Rem."

He beat people every day, so what was he talking about?

Rem felt half wronged. This time, it had not happened like that.

He had not beaten them. He had just been focused on sparring and cleared out whatever got in the way.

"You really believe I beat them?"

Rem glared.

"Yeah."

"Fuck, correct answer."

Rem smirked.

That was the signal. Once the smile passed, force loaded into the top of his foot. The direction of his center of gravity became the direction of attack.

Swordsmanship was a collection of techniques for killing people.

He had polished himself on that road.

Clang!

Axe and sword met. A heavy metallic roar rang out. The blade was blunt, without a sharpened edge, but its solidity was better than any sword he had held before.

It had been called a Demon Sword, but now it was just a sturdy sword, no, around the level of a fine blade.

Enkrid adapted to the new sword quickly.

Why else?

The moment he returned, he had done it to clash with this axe.

Sword and axe crossed, mind games continued.

Then Enkrid's blade, with reflex speed clearly different from before, bent like a snake.

It was one of the secret techniques of swordsmanship that used a wrist snap.

Ting-ting-ting.

When the blade bounced off the axe edge and curved upward, Rem leaned his head back.

At the same time, he stood the axe edge up and whipped a short chopping swing.

Enkrid twisted his head to the side.

Prick, prick.

That was how scratches appeared on both their cheeks.

Rem narrowed his eyes and blew out through his nose.

He was surprised, but for this moment he put something else first, fighting spirit and pressure.

Rem's excited eyes gleamed.

Soon he stuck out his tongue, licked one drop of blood running from his mouth, and spoke.

"Fuck, that surprised me."

He meant it.

And everyone watching had their eyes widen.

Enkrid and Rem exchanged sword and axe, and Enkrid did not get pushed back easily.

There was no way not to be shocked by growth like that. No, it was enough to call it something that shook heaven and earth.

That talentless bastard came back changed like this? Every pair of eyes said exactly that.

= = =

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