WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES

Chapter 196: If a Feast Has Been Prepared for You, Shouldn't You At Least Taste It?

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They lit a small fire and set a pot over it.

It was a field meal, so there was nothing fancy.

Dried meat, fruit, cheese, and water mixed with wine. That was all.

Everyone ate and drank.

Enkrid was tearing into the seasoned jerky he had brought when he noticed someone staring at him.

It was the Beastkin.

'Does she want some?'

The longing in her eyes made it clear she was starving.

Come to think of it, she probably had not eaten properly since being locked up.

Whether they killed her or freed her, should they not at least feed her first?

Her hunger shone in her golden eyes.

'No need to be stingy.'

It was just one strip of jerky.

Enkrid tore off a long piece, sat in front of the Beastkin, and fed it to her. Her eyes went wide.

"Try it."

Dunbakel chewed. The mix of salty and sweet spread through her mouth and jolted her senses.

At the same time, she looked at the man in front of her.

After watching him again and again, she had moved past envy and jealousy into something close to admiration.

'If I had lived like this man...'

What would it have been like if she had lived with that kind of effort?

She felt plain envy too. Having subordinates that impressive had to be luck.

If that luck had come to her.

Why had she been born like this from the start?

Why had she been born this way and cast aside?

If only it had ended at being excluded. Then she could have risked her life for her village. If she could have died like that, how good would that have been?

If she could have gone into Krimhalt's embrace that way.

Regret and jealousy, admiration and remorse.

By the end of that tangle of emotions, she was chewing jerky.

She swallowed, and he tipped a canteen to her lips. She thought it was watered wine, but a fresh apple scent filled her mouth.

"Apple cider."

Why was he treating her like this?

Dunbakel wondered if he was trying to lure her, but she could not be sure.

Still, this was a moment of choice.

Should she speak, or not?

A crossroads.

Dunbakel chose.

"There will be a Black Blade ambush."

With seasoning still at the corner of her mouth, she spoke.

If he asked how she knew, she was ready to explain about the marks.

Enkrid only looked straight into her eyes and said,

"I see."

Even after that, Dunbakel expected Enkrid to make some move, but he stayed surprisingly quiet.

He simply went back to eating and tossed a few words at the noble who was also a Black Blade puppet.

"How do you know the route?"

Acting as the Black Blade Bandits' envoy and knowing the road were two different matters.

Enkrid brought up what even Marcus had not bothered to dig into.

Bansento twisted one corner of his mouth. With a sneer anyone could read, he said,

"You do not need to know, commoner."

Was adding "commoner" to every sentence just a habit?

For all that, he did not look like some great lord either.

Enkrid nodded as if to say fine, regardless of what he thought.

That was not what mattered anyway.

Enkrid looked at the black-clothed guard.

He had been watching the guard's gait, hand movements, attitude, and positioning this whole time.

He had seen him a few times in the city, but now that they were out here, he could tell for sure.

'This might be good.'

Rem and Ragna, Jaxon, Audin, even the Elf Company Commander.

Lately, he had more than enough sparring partners, but none gave him this feeling.

Those feet would be light, and those hands fast.

He would favor short weapons. His throwing technique was probably excellent too.

Half of it was curiosity about the man's unique techniques, and the other half was a quiet thirst.

Sparring was sparring. Real combat was real combat.

Watching the man chew thin bread, swallow, and drink water right in front of him brought one thought to mind.

'I want to fight him.'

His movements and gestures naturally stirred Enkrid's interest.

'How far will my swordsmanship work?'

What should I watch for when I face him?

How do I catch up to that footwork?

Enkrid was not a genius.

Seeing an opponent did not make an answer pop into his head.

Still, he had gone through hundreds, maybe more than a thousand, sparring sessions by now, so he could picture responses based on experience.

'If I cut the thigh...'

The leg stiffens. That would seal one of the opponent's specialties.

From the moment he spotted that unique habit, Enkrid wanted to fight him.

Maybe because he felt that stare.

"Annoying."

The black-clothed guard lifted his head and spoke after a few bites of bread and sips of water.

Enkrid, at the end of that gaze, opened his mouth.

"Me?"

"Who else?"

A strange current passed between them. One side showed quiet fighting spirit, while the other showed killing intent and displeasure.

The one showing killing intent, the black-clothed guard, stayed seated with both hands on his knees, fingers interlaced.

They had gathered under the shade of a suitable tree.

Two horses moved across the dry grass, tearing at it, their hoofsteps tapping softly. A cool breeze blew for a summer day. Then the guard spoke again.

"This is the time when your confidence in your skills swells."

Enkrid agreed inwardly. Lately, he had been feeling something that could be called confidence.

"But you need caution, and you need to choose your opponents well."

That was true too.

"Aren't you just Elite Soldier level in that shabby soldier ranking system?"

...That was not true.

"You should not stake your life on stupidity."

None of this felt new to Enkrid. When had people ever not looked down on him?

It had happened countless times.

Had Kraiss not said this before he left?

"Marcus tends to hide your achievements, Captain. It looks like he is aiming for something."

Things had been concealed and buried. So it made sense the other side would misunderstand.

Still, one thing disappointed him.

'His eye for people.'

Enkrid had recognized him, but he had not recognized Enkrid.

In truth, that was natural.

Enkrid had clawed his way up from the bottom to reach where he was now.

He had none of the habits of someone who got strong in one leap.

Arrogance and conceit were words farthest from him.

All that remained was the ferocity of someone who had crawled upward by feeding on defeat.

In other words, from the outside he looked like someone who could use a sword decently and nothing more.

"What a load of shit."

Rem said it when he saw that.

Bansento the noble heard Rem and opened his mouth too.

"Shut your mouth, you moronic barbarian. Are you advertising that you were raised without a mother?"

Words crossed the line and stabbed Rem like blades. Enkrid thought there was no stopping it now.

Honestly, he thought this was enough anyway.

* * *

The black-clothed guard had planned to calm things down with words.

Either way, once they finished eating and traveled another half day, it would all be over. The Black Blade members waiting in ambush ahead would kill them all.

Normally, he had intended to handle it himself too.

'One guy is fine, but...'

If it was Rem and Ragna, both of them.

He wanted to avoid facing those two at once.

Enkrid did not even register in his eyes. Who was he? Even among Black Blade members, he was one of the top few by pure skill. He had also learned from an excellent teacher.

Then it happened.

"Shut your mouth, you moronic barbarian. Are you advertising that you were raised without a mother?"

Bansento spat the same venom as always.

Enkrid needed to stop Rem again, but there was no time, not even a moment.

Whoosh, thud!

Something sliced through the air, then a heavy, sickening sound followed.

The guard turned his head. Even after turning, he struggled for a while to process what he was seeing.

"Ghh, grrk."

A man with an axe blade buried in his face could not speak properly. Of course.

He would not survive either. If someone survived with half his face split, that was a ghoul, not a human.

'Even a ghoul would die with a face split like that.'

Between the vertically split skull, something small and precious from his head spilled out, blood streaming after it.

At the moment of impact, one eyeball popped free and rolled away.

Thrown several steps back by the force of the axe, he had fallen backward and become a corpse.

His name was Bansento. A Black Blade member, envoy for this mission, and a noble.

"Damn bastard. You talked way too wild."

Watching that, the barbarian called Rem flicked his hand and muttered.

"Wha, what is this?!"

Only then did the guard jump up in shock and shout.

Hiiiing!

The sudden commotion startled the two horses tied to the carriage, and they screamed.

Dunbakel also stared with her mouth hanging open.

'He killed a noble?'

They had only just reached a place out of Border Guard sight, a little over half a day since they started traveling, and now the envoy and escort target was dead.

Killed by the man assigned to escort him.

"Ah, he did it."

Enkrid's reaction was simple and plain.

"Ah, he did it? You lunatics."

The guard was not quick on the uptake. At least, that was what Enkrid thought.

Ragna looked bored.

He only asked Enkrid,

"Will you handle this alone?"

"I want to."

"Do as you like."

Rem walked over as if out for a stroll and pulled out the axe he had thrown. Pop, it came free. Dead Bansento lay underneath, trash who had taken Black Blade gold.

Why had no one killed that trash so easily even while knowing what he was?

Because he was a noble.

Noble status was a shield, even if it was only an unheritable Baronet rank.

If this came to light, that man Rem would be hunted until he died, yet he had taken that gamble.

The guard's thoughts tangled.

"What are you looking at? Want me to stick a decoration in your head too?"

Rem spoke when his eyes met the guard's.

"He's mine."

Enkrid showed rare possessiveness.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. If not, I would've chopped him already."

Rem shook out his limbs and wiped the blood from his axe blade on Bansento's dead silk clothes.

Watching that, the guard spoke.

"This is still Border Guard patrol territory. What will you do if a patrol comes through?"

It was a natural question for him.

"No patrol is coming."

Enkrid answered plainly. He already knew where and how patrols moved. He had heard it all from Squad Leader Vengeance, who also oversaw patrols.

"No patrol is coming?"

Only then did the black-clothed guard realize this was not impulsive.

'Was this planned from the start?'

Shing, Enkrid drew his sword. The blade caught sunlight and scattered it. Seeing the tip turn toward him, the guard drew his own weapons.

Two black daggers came out without a sound.

He held both in reverse grip, blades down, and reflexively took his stance.

'Reinforcements are half a day away.'

Forget Bansento's death. This was the moment to find a way to live.

How could he survive?

That bastard Enkrid said he would face him alone.

Rem and Ragna looked uninterested.

'I will rush him and decide it in one burst.'

He had confidence in his feet. For that, he needed to do something first.

"So you knew no patrol would come. That means this was planned, right?"

Enkrid shrugged.

"So as long as no one sees it, that's fine, yeah?"

As he spoke, the guard slid his feet little by little. It looked like he was trying to put the sun at his back. Enkrid moved with him.

The guard reached the position he wanted.

More precisely, with the carriage behind him to the right.

He flicked one reverse-grip dagger up into the air.

Enkrid reflexively raised his sword.

At that moment, when Enkrid seemed ready to react to either a thrown blade or a charge, the guard threw the dagger up and snapped his right hand. With that motion, two throwing knives flew backward.

His handwork was fast. He used the weapon in his hand to steal attention, then threw knives from his waist.

The two knives whistled through the air and buried themselves in the horses' necks.

They screamed in pain. One stumbled to the side, blood pouring out. Their cries rang loudly. The knives had sunk too deep, so even if they tried to save them, they could not.

The guard had calculated that without horses, these men could not chase him.

All that remained was to break past Enkrid blocking the front.

He caught the dagger he had tossed, lowered his posture, and kicked off the ground.

He closed the distance at terrifying speed. In a blink, he was inside sword range.

People often said long weapons had the advantage over short weapons.

But once the distance closed like this, short weapons had the advantage.

'Got him.'

Certain of it, the guard crossed his reverse-grip daggers and slashed.

The left and right timings staggered, aiming for Enkrid's wrist and nape.

Enkrid deflected one blade with the bracer on his wrist.

The one aimed at his neck, he dodged by throwing his head back.

That feat was possible only because he read it exactly and calculated the timing.

From that posture, he drove his knee up. The enemy was already too deep inside to evade.

The guard hurriedly raised his knee to block.

Thud!

"Urk!"

'What kind of strength...?!'

From just one hit, a single knee strike, his shin throbbed.

That was not all.

For a moment Enkrid vanished from sight, then killing intent came from the side and the guard ducked.

Ping.

A broad guard sword, drawn at some unknown instant, grazed his hair.

A few cut strands fluttered in the air.

Without time to catch his breath, the guard thrust both daggers forward.

Whoosh!

Both thrusts sliced only empty air.

After that, he could not even properly sense Enkrid's attack.

It was a downward smashing strike, using the forearm like a sickle from top to bottom.

Crack! Bam!

That blow smashed the back of his head.

Still low, the guard drove his forehead into the ground.

Without hesitation, Enkrid turned his sword point downward and stabbed.

Thrust!

He made a second mouth beneath the back of the head, then pulled the blade free. A jet of blood burst from that new mouth like a fountain.

Enkrid stepped back and flicked his sword through the air. Droplets of blood scattered onto the ground.

"Your face looks bad. Not fun?"

Seeing that, Rem asked. Enkrid answered honestly.

"Too bland."

His speed was slower than the Gnoll leader's.

His Game of Moves was worse than the evil spirit in the demon sword.

He did not have any flash of brilliance either.

He was better than this Beastkin, but it was hard to call him overwhelmingly better.

So Enkrid even felt like he had finished his business without wiping.

"What did you say your name was?"

Still standing there, Enkrid asked. Obviously, he was not asking Rem or Ragna.

Soon the Beastkin answered.

"Dunbakel."

Enkrid watched the startled Beastkin's golden eyes and asked with regret,

"How many troops are in the ambush?"

If a feast had been prepared for him, should he not at least taste it?

Enkrid meant that sincerely.

Dunbakel had no room to choose anymore.

These people were definitely crazy bastards.

"It will be a small elite force. They set this ambush on purpose, so they would never send weaklings."

At those words, Enkrid did not smile, but his eyes shone.

Rem grinned.

And that man called Ragna only looked at Enkrid and spoke.

"Why did you give him distance?"

"To draw out carelessness."

"Not bad."

Did he never get tired of it? Even in this situation, all they talked about was swordsmanship.

No, what was truly absurd was that they did not seem to care at all that they had killed a noble.

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