WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS
Translator: Hydrogen B
Editor: Abstract
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES
Chapter 213: After the Soot Settled
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Marcus truly was a politician.
Olf only realized Marcus was closing in after entering the city, and the moment he heard the report, nausea rose in his throat.
His head throbbed and spun.
Had the retreat been through rough terrain?
No. There had been no real danger. Some cavalry had followed behind as escort and rear guard, that was all.
'He drove me into the city.'
And now he was being surrounded outside the walls? Had that bastard completely lost his mind?
After the shock passed, rage came as naturally as breathing.
Even so, he forced his mind to keep turning. If he lost his head here, he was finished.
Could they regroup inside and beat back the Border Guard army?
Not a chance. They had just gone all in and been crushed.
Morale was at rock bottom, and proper reorganization needed time.
Marcus had taken that time from Olf.
Time to steady himself.
Time to prepare.
Time to call reinforcements, all of it.
Even then, Olf barely held himself together and called a war council.
"Tell everyone to get in here!"
His voice came out louder in his urgency. At least it did not shake.
Soon, everyone assigned to military operations had gathered.
"I will go out and drive them off. Give me one hundred infantry and the cavalry!"
One of the lieutenants shouted in anger.
Is this bastard sane?
If they could just drive them out, they would not have been beaten senseless on the last battlefield.
He was Greg's replacement.
"Shut up."
Olf snapped back and looked away from him. No matter how carefully you picked people, there was always some tone-deaf idiot.
What shocked him was that this idiot had even made lieutenant.
"It was political maneuvering. We only got cornered because they hid it well."
A more sycophantic lieutenant tried to soothe him, but words like that were never going to reach Olf right now.
His backside felt heavy against the chair.
His chest felt heavier.
His hands and feet would not move the way he wanted.
Who did the Unmarked Forces belong to again?
They were under Count Molsen. The main force had been Bantara Viscount's Forces, but even the swordsmen the count sent directly had died.
Some survivors from Bantara Viscount's Forces turned back as soon as they heard of the defeat.
The backs of those retreating men looked like routed stragglers, and the Martai troops looked no different.
Olf's eyelid twitched.
Was he really going to be swallowed whole like this?
Outside the city, Marcus slowly built his encirclement.
Since when had he prepared this? Had he planned everything from the beginning?
They set up camp. They raised tents. He heard that five men had stepped forward and were watching Martai's wall.
Pins were scattered across the strategy map. One pin had fallen on its side, and Olf felt like that pin was him.
'Crazy bastards.'
Thinking again of those five who had stormed the battlefield and wrecked everything made irritation surge up. They were the main reason the battle had collapsed.
Olf ground his molars. He forced down the nausea rising in his gut.
When do you lose a fight? When you lose your ferocity and grit.
The eastern mercenary spirit reminded him.
Even if he could not win right now, he at least had to snap Marcus's dagger.
"Everyone out."
Olf spoke.
It was time to bring out the hidden card he had prepared just in case, the one he had never used in the end.
"What?"
That clueless lieutenant asked again.
I will kill that bastard once this battle is over.
He suddenly missed Greg.
Of course, Greg was dead. The assault company had been annihilated first, and Greg had led that battalion.
The only battalion commander still mostly intact was Zimmer of the 2nd Battalion.
Zimmer watched Olf's face and spoke.
"The general has spoken. Everyone out."
At his words, the lieutenants poured out the door.
Zimmer, the last one out, turned back.
"General."
"Let me think. Wait outside."
At Olf's words, Zimmer put a hand at his waist where his sword should have been and bowed his head.
Olf gave him a rough nod.
Only after the lieutenants were gone did he speak again.
"Come out."
Olf spoke to empty air. From behind him, from a shadow the firelight did not reach, something long slid out.
The thing jutting out looked like part of the shadow itself, and also like soot spreading through flame.
Either way, that black mass rose from the ground and took on a solid shape.
Soon it became a person in a black robe. No face was visible inside the robe, so it was hard to tell if it was even human, but the exposed back of the hand was white and smooth.
"Have you made your decision?" the man in black asked.
His voice was like a clarinet. Clear and refined.
People often said a deal with a mage was no different from a deal with a devil. That was what Olf knew.
You got nothing without paying.
"I have."
Olf answered.
The price of the contract was not small. But what then, take a beating and lose the city? He could not do that either.
'Enkrid.'
He remembered the man who had shouted his own name on the battlefield. Black hair had stuck out under his helmet, and around that man, Martai's soldiers had been hacked down.
Olf knew why he had lost. So if he could break the sword that caused it, then the outcome was still unknown.
* * *
"Just surrounding them like this doesn't feel like it will solve anything."
Estimating the height of Martai's wall, Enkrid spoke.
'Do we have to climb it?'
Their side had no siege tools like mangonels, siege towers, or trebuchets. That meant ladders were the only way to attack a wall.
But it did not look like they had even brought ladders.
So they had no intention of climbing over.
Then brute force?
The gate was visible. There was no moat here either.
If Audin set his mind to it and swung that hammer, could he not break one section?
The thick gate was dark brown wood. It looked sturdy, but Audin's arms looked just as sturdy.
No, they looked sturdier.
'If we move at night, we might not even need ladders.'
The wall, worn by years of weather, was pitted and uneven all over.
There were places to grip. If they were determined, climbing it was not impossible. Ladders were not absolutely necessary.
Enkrid ran through what might happen at night.
'If I can climb it.'
Then Rem, Ragna, Jaxon, and Audin could too.
If only those five got over, it was done. Audin opened the gate, the others held the line.
'What if they put archers on standby?'
How do we stop that? Dodging would not be enough.
Should we carry shields, then?
It was not much of a tactic, but they had fought while maintaining formation.
He had used similar formations many times before and moved as one part of them, but this time was completely different.
The destructive power was different, him being the center was different, and controlling everything from start to end was different.
It was a new experience.
Experience made people grow. Enkrid was growing again.
Tactics and strategy, what could be done with the power those five had, including himself, what kind of outcomes they could create.
A small number deciding the tide of a battlefield, that was why knights changed the flow of war.
Enkrid was learning that directly, with his own body.
"Why are you worrying about that?" Rem asked from beside him, digging at his ear.
"Playing commander."
At Enkrid's uncharacteristic joke, Rem snickered.
"Commander of a company with not even ten men, let's fill our bellies first."
They had moved like mad. They had rampaged through the middle of blood, corpses, brains, bones, eyeballs, severed arms, and fingers.
No one had an appetite right away. Still, you could not face the next battle hungry.
Forget what needed forgetting, and eat when it was time to eat.
"Let me wash first."
There was a well used by people farming outside the city gate.
It would have been a problem if someone had poisoned it, but had they even had the head for that?
After drawing water and washing thoroughly, Rem, Ragna, Jaxon, and Audin also threw off their armor and poured water over their heads.
Water splashed everywhere.
They had laid stones on the ground, so no one had to step directly on mud. Enkrid liked that a lot.
"Looks good."
Finn, who had appeared without anyone noticing, gave a thumbs-up as she spoke.
They were all wearing only what covered their lower halves.
"True, looks good."
The Elf Company Commander and Kraiss were beside him. Behind them stood Dunbakel, expressionless.
Kyarrrr.
Esther had also settled in somehow, blinking blue eyes. It almost looked like she was examining each of the five bodies one by one.
"Where were you this time?"
Ignoring the looks around him, and ignoring Finn and the company commander's muttering, Enkrid spoke.
The black panther raised a front paw and scratched her neck.
'She is not listening at all.'
Then again, what did it matter.
It was not as if he would get stabbed to death because Esther was away.
"Company Commander-nim, if your unit has an opening, please take me too."
As they waited their turn to wash, a few soldiers said pointless things like that.
They were washing because personal maintenance time had been given.
There was no immediate battle, so everyone had loosened up somewhat. But they would not neglect watch duty. The Border Guard standing army was high level. That also meant they did their jobs properly.
"Are you serious?"
The soldier just curled one corner of his mouth into a smile.
Enkrid also smirked and let it pass.
Even if he was serious, they could not take him. A few random men joining did not instantly make company-level strength.
'Best case, they don't become toys for that Rem bastard.'
He washed up and maintained his armor. Blood-soaked leather did not lose its smell or color. He just applied polish and left it at that.
That would do. After checking his gauntlets and boots too, he took up his sword.
A sword was iron. If not maintained properly, it rusted quickly.
A bloodstained blade needed even more care.
"Use this."
In the middle of that, a soldier from the 1st Company handed him a palm-sized clay bottle baked from mud.
"It's linseed oil. Valuable stuff."
"...If it's that valuable, why?"
"Use it."
The soldier just handed it over and hurried off.
"After seeing you fight like that on the battlefield, respect rose up in me too. This is just me showing regard. Respect and admiration."
Kraiss, who had been watching from the side, said that.
Was it? It did not feel like a big deal.
While he wiped the sword with linseed oil, Rem came over and held out his axe.
"See this? It got chipped."
After how much he had swung it, the stranger thing was that it was still intact.
"This guy says it wants oil too. Oiiil, give me oiiil."
Enkrid had met an evil spirit trapped in an actual Demon Sword before, and no Demon Sword seemed like it would talk that way.
"Use it."
There was enough to share.
After cleaning his sword, he drew a sword he had picked up from the battlefield.
Srring.
It was nothing special. Carrying only one sword felt odd, so he picked one up when he saw it.
A commander-grade man had worn it, but its owner died with his throat pierced by Jaxon before he could even draw it.
'That.'
Was that Pierce Without Killing Strike?
You erased killing intent and erased your presence. Then all that remained was action.
Sometimes things were right in front of you, yet you still stared, thinking, is this really possible?
Jaxon's thrust gave that feeling.
It looked slow, simple, and easy to dodge.
By the time you came to your senses, your throat would already be impaled.
How was that possible?
He had watched it from right beside him. His heightened eye opened a new view.
'Instant acceleration.'
Right before the thrust, Jaxon's sword became faster than before, fast enough to vanish for a moment. Similar speed to Rem's light-streak axe, maybe faster.
'I think I could apply that.'
Depending on how you looked at it, it seemed possible.
And it was not only that. From Ragna, from Rem, from Audin, from everything around him, there were lessons spilling out.
That was not all. The enemies he killed, the enemies that brushed past him, everything was full of things to learn.
Now that he could see what he had not seen before.
Once battle ended, this review happened almost by reflex, and it was preparation for another leap forward.
"More sword practice right after it ends?"
The Elf Company Commander asked, appearing before he noticed.
You could not read what he thought from his face.
Still, Enkrid had been slicing at empty air with a hand-blade motion while thinking, so anyone who knew him would know what he was doing.
"It's fun."
"I see. There will be no battle for a while. Orders are for everyone to rest, fiance."
"Yes, confirmed."
The sun was setting. The Border Guard army had raised many tents.
Even then, pitching tents would not be the end of it.
'We haven't secured the supply line either.'
Would their remaining food even last four days?
It probably would not.
He wondered what Marcus was thinking, but there was no strategy meeting for now.
Some units would stand night watch and guard duty, and the rest were at the point of forgetting victory and surrendering to fatigue.
No alcohol came through supplies, so Enkrid sipped the apple cider he had stashed away.
"You said you drank it all."
Rem grumbled, so Enkrid tossed him a small bottle.
"You worked hard."
"Yeah, boss, you fought well too, even with your fingers shaking."
Did he see all that?
His muscles had trembled from overusing Heart of Superhuman Strength.
How could they not?
He had done it to carry his full share among these people. That was the kind of group this was. Still, he was fine now. Recovery had sped up compared to before.
He clenched and unclenched his hand and checked his condition.
As expected, it was fine.
"You really grew a lot, our boss."
Rem muttered.
Sometimes pointless words popped out before you thought. Enkrid did that now.
"I was always taller."
At Enkrid's reply, Rem shook his head and said, "You calling that a joke?"
Jaxon ignored it, and Ragna spoke indifferently.
"You can train jokes too."
What insane nonsense was that.
If this was about wit and not swords, being compared to these people was an insult by itself.
"Pray."
Audin started praying beside him, so Enkrid simply shut his mouth.
After all, these were the ones who had followed his orders so faithfully today.
He did feel like asking why, but decided to stay silent.
It was a pointless question.
If he had lived by picking apart every one of their actions and attaching a why to each one, they could never have lived like this.
He only met each of their eyes once for no reason.
"I can fight too."
As his gaze drifted like that, Dunbakel spoke.
"I know."
But if he sent her out now, she would just die.
If he wanted a meat shield, he would not have taken her in from the start.
Since he had taken her in, the right move was to use her properly.
Resting his chin on his hand, he looked around once, then lay down on the thick cloth they had spread. He looked ready to sleep hard.
He could faintly feel the stones and rough ground under it, but it was not bad enough to keep him awake.
He closed his eyes and fell asleep, then felt Esther slip into his arms.
Enkrid gently held the black panther.
Time passed, and it reached the dawn hour when everyone had fallen asleep.
Esther, who had looked like she was sleeping deeply, slipped out of Enkrid's arms.
A strange aura was settling over the tent.
It was something deeply tied to Esther's world, what people called mystery and spells, in other words, magic.
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