WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES

Chapter 198: Two Manuals

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A man with a clenched fist stomped down and charged. His ankles flexed like springs and drove his body forward. Power flowed cleanly from his knees and thighs into his upper body.

So he was frighteningly fast. Even so, not so fast that no one could react.

Naturally, he was no match for Rem.

Rem raised the axe in his left hand at an angle, feinting a downward chop. Right before the man's fist could land, right when Rem's head should have split in two, the charging man accelerated again.

Fast enough to leave a blurry afterimage.

A burst meant to blur the opponent's sight.

Whoom!

Rem's left-hand axe cut empty air.

The fighter closed the gap, planted his left foot hard while pivoting on his right, and fired a knuckled fist.

One look was enough. He was properly trained.

Then, thud!

"Hey, why are you sticking your neck into an axe?"

After the impact, Rem spoke in a calm voice.

Enkrid replayed what he had just seen.

A steady charge, then a sudden shift in tempo.

There were probably very few people who could take that strike head-on.

At best, they could dodge, and once they did, he would keep pressing from his ideal range. That was likely his style.

Had Audin not said it himself?

"A fist fighter works harder than anyone at controlling range, brother."

Rem's response to that range-stealing charge was almost indifferent.

He played along with the left-hand axe, then swung the axe in his right hand several times faster.

The method was similar to his opponent's, but the result was different.

The axe edge flashed like light and took the man's neck.

The headless fist still bumped Rem in the stomach.

Of course, it had no force left.

The severed head hung in the air for a moment, then dropped with a dull thud.

The body that had thrown the punch crumpled when Rem shoved it away with the back of his hand, still gripping his axe.

"He is not an easy one. All of you, stay sharp!"

The man with the halberd shouted.

Then five men moved in on Rem.

All five were male. Three carried a trident or swords, and another toyed with daggers, making five in total.

"This is fun."

Even with five against him, Rem stayed calm. No, he looked more than calm. He even rolled his shoulders like he was dancing.

Ragna set a hand on her sword grip and strode forward, straight at the man with the halberd.

"Kill her!"

The halberd wielder shouted. At that exact moment, the female bandit on the branch fired something.

Ping!

A short bolt aimed for Ragna's shoulder. Ragna twisted clear and, in the same motion, drew her sword.

Smooth and natural, as if rehearsed.

Shing. She drew and slashed wide, and the halberd man brought his weapon up to meet it.

Clang!

"Hm!"

Maybe he thought it was a light cut with no weight.

Even so, his body tilted sideways for a moment after blocking it.

Then, ping, a second bolt flew in.

Ragna dodged that too. The bolt struck a rock in the dirt and bounced away with a sharp crack.

Up there.

Enkrid also caught where the shot came from. A tree. A small figure was firing bolts from a wrist-mounted device.

Enkrid moved too.

He did not have the Whistle Dagger, but he did have a properly learned Sword Flicking Technique.

He stretched a single instant, triggered Focus Point, measured the distance, and flicked his hand.

His left hand, which had grown nearly as skilled as his right despite not holding the sword.

Backed by focus and sharpened senses, the thrown dagger split the air.

The figure in the tree hooked both legs around a branch and flipped upside down like a monkey to evade.

Thud!

The dagger passed through where the target had been and buried itself in the thick trunk.

"Kill him! Roomt!"

Seeing that, the halberd man shouted. Someone stepped in front of Enkrid.

A man with two daggers.

Roomt's eyes swept over Enkrid's waist.

The dagger Enkrid had taken from the escort he killed earlier hung there.

"You, that dagger..."

"I got it as a gift."

He answered before the other man could finish. Roomt frowned.

Thin eyebrows, unnaturally small irises, a brutal-looking face.

But looks meant nothing. A vicious face and real skill were separate matters.

A common face among mercenaries anyway.

Many of them wore scars like decoration, men who looked murderous at a glance.

"I taught the one who used it."

He looked to be around forty. If he was still fighting on the front line at that age, his skill had to be serious.

Enkrid's heart pounded.

At least he should be better than the one he had taught.

Would he be better than that gnoll leader?

A strange anticipation rose in Enkrid. And there was one thing he wanted to say.

"Just one against me?"

Five on Rem. Three on Ragna.

Why did he get only one?

The last one was that monkey-like woman, still darting across branches.

Rem was facing five, grinning as he rolled his axe.

Those five were cautious.

They had seen him kill their comrade in one hit.

The halberd man was cautious too.

With a numbers advantage, slowly surrounding the enemy was better than charging blindly.

The halberd wielder and two allies spread out around Ragna in a loose ring.

The same thing was happening around Rem.

"I'll kill you, then tear open that beastkin bitch between her legs and kill her too."

Whatever his connection to the black-clothed escort was, he was clearly furious.

Even so, he did not rush in. Caution? No, experience.

Enkrid had no intention of waiting.

Tap. He kicked off the ground and went in. A few words from Ragna had already given him a new realization about swordsmanship.

He kept Focus Point active and honed his senses to a razor edge.

His opponent's crackling killing intent pricked his skin.

As Enkrid rushed in, both of Roomt's hands moved. Fast. Truly terrifyingly fast.

His hands whipped so quickly the two daggers looked like many.

Enkrid extended his sword from a Correct Sword base. If he blocked, he planned to knock the attack off line, wrap inside, then thrust.

Roomt swung both daggers and knocked Enkrid's blade away.

Clang!

Not strength. Technique.

A technique that struck the center of the blade to break balance.

Enkrid could not thrust where he first aimed. The tip drifted. As it drifted, the man closed in and stabbed.

The trajectory slipped out of view for an instant.

From low to high.

Enkrid sensed the blade in pure instinct and loaded power into his left big toe, halting his body.

A sharp jolt, his movement locked for a split second.

He pulled his elbow in and tried to catch the dagger tip on his bracer, but the dagger bent like a snake and shot for his chin.

Irregular, fast, and bold.

Enkrid snapped his head back. The tip grazed his chin.

He drew his extended sword back inward, and his opponent rolled sideways to evade.

Then he crossed both daggers and stared at Enkrid.

His eyes seemed to ask:

You dodged that?

Enkrid casually put his sword forward again.

Why would he fail to dodge?

Honestly, before learning Sense of Evasion, he might have died there.

Now, once he recognized it, his body reacted on its own.

A satisfying opponent. But still, there were openings.

He was clearly stronger than the ones who came with Dunbakel, yes.

Above Elite Soldier, below squire.

That was Enkrid's read.

With that thought, he drove his sword in again.

A dagger flew in again.

A trick he had already seen.

Thump!

What he had learned while harvesting gnoll heads was not just Sense of Evasion.

His swordsmanship had improved, and he also had Heart of Superhuman Strength.

He awakened that heart, and power surged through his entire body.

He dropped more weight into his left leg. Pressing forward, advancing, loading force. Monstrous strength the opponent could neither measure nor predict.

Focus and sharpened senses made the incoming dagger look less like a blur and more like broken frames.

Claang.

Sparks flew as the dagger hit Enkrid's blade flat. That was the end of it.

A technique needed enough force to engage the opponent in the first place.

The dagger could not push Enkrid's sword away. It could not deflect it either.

He crushed through with overwhelming power.

In that slowed instant, he saw his opponent's eyes. Saw the panic, and thrust straight in.

Thuck.

Leather armor over the chest ripped as the blade punched through. His opponent twisted to the end to slip the strike, but the sword in Enkrid's hand was simply too good.

Its tip tore mercilessly through leather.

After that, cutting flesh and muscle was easy.

He drove in diagonally from beneath the collarbone and ripped it out, and blood burst out in a spray.

Ping!

Then a short bolt flew at Enkrid.

Ragna had been treating this as part of her flow, so Enkrid copied her.

He dodged the bolt, spun on his left foot, briefly showed his back to hide the start and finish of his hand motion, and threw a dagger.

Whoong!

The monkey-like female bandit had not expected that. The knife hit her thigh cleanly.

"Khk!"

The monkey-like female bandit froze on the branch.

Enkrid's fight ended early.

Of course it did. It ended after only two exchanges of attack and defense.

Enkrid's gaze naturally turned to Rem and Ragna.

As expected, those two were overwhelming their opponents.

They had said they were at least near the foot of squire level, and with the right situation, they could even kill one.

The skill gap was obvious.

The enemy had lost to ignorance. Simple as that.

They did not know Enkrid or the Madmen Platoon.

Because they did not know, they were getting crushed.

Enkrid looked to Ragna.

Whoang.

The halberd man feinted a thrust, then swept sideways. Ragna swung in sync.

Defense? No.

Clang, krrk.

Bind.

If she blocked edge to edge, her blade would chip, so she caught it with the blade flat, adjusted force, and wound the halberd into her sword.

Then a spear and a rapier flew at her from left and right.

Both attackers seemed to rely on speed.

The pressure from the two female bandits' weapons was vicious.

In that brief instant, Ragna merged several actions into one.

First, she took the grip with both hands and lifted up to the left as if shoving the spear away, winding it up. The sword flat stayed in contact, so the bind held.

She bent the spear's line and thrust straight forward. Neither fast nor slow.

Winding the weapon, she stepped in.

The spear and rapier crossed through the spot where she had been.

The male halberd bandit clenched his teeth and pulled inward, forcing aside the thrusting blade.

Ragna did not force it. She stepped in again.

Then she aimed the tip at the left side of his head. The halberd bandit bent backward, but he could not fully evade.

Slice.

A sickening sound, and half his ear came off.

Blood soaked the left side of his face and streamed down.

The two women circling them moved even faster.

The rapier danced in, and the spearwoman swept hard at Ragna's feet.

Right after cutting his ear, Ragna recovered her blade. She blocked the rapier's line and flicked it away. Then she made a large side leap to escape the low spear sweep entirely.

It was an astonishing blend of distance control and precise blade work.

Why?

Watching that, Enkrid felt a question rise. It looked like she was fighting while measuring their level. The answer came right after.

She is showing me.

What is swordsmanship?

Every move has meaning.

Ragna's evasion meant more than simple dodging. She moved to the halberd bandit's right side, forcing the woman with the rapier to face her with her ally in between.

Then, without a breath, a one-handed thrust.

She surged back in by exactly what she had given up and aimed for the halberd bandit's neck.

Again, neither fast nor slow.

More precisely:

Exactly fast enough to be blocked.

Enkrid's eyes worked harder. His mind worked harder still.

Every motion from Ragna was instruction. A place to learn. A manual he could not afford to miss.

But he could not watch only Ragna, because Rem was doing something similar.

"Tsaah!"

With a strange shout, Rem swung his axe in a huge vertical arc. One bandit rushing in blocked it with a longsword.

Clang!

The sword broke in one hit.

"You bastard, this axe is expensive!"

True enough. It was a good axe.

Enkrid had picked it up from a mercenary before and handed it to him.

Rem was also fighting with controlled force. He too was focused on showing.

Ragna, unlike usual, put weight on precision and the formal meaning inside swordsmanship.

Rem used his superior strength and, rather than focusing only on axe technique, showed how to fight.

If you do not use your advantage, then what do you use?

Enkrid could almost hear Rem say it.

And it truly was how to fight. He did not rely only on his axe to win.

He kept scraping at his opponents by never shutting his mouth.

"Was your mother a ghoul?"

He was also using things he had learned from Enkrid.

Even then, his axe work stayed delicate, knocking weapons aside, striking, and whipping through.

His feet moved without hesitation, always stealing better positions.

Watching both of them, Enkrid realized once again:

Those two were better at teaching with their bodies than with words.

It had only been a short moment, but he already felt he understood what they were trying to say.

That was exactly how it felt.

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