WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES

Chapter 221: Because They Endured the Training

= = =

When Enkrid stood blankly on the platform, the soldiers in training looked at him with something close to resentment.

"I told you, if you run in, at least pretend to take a break. It's better that way."

That was Rem speaking.

So Enkrid did exactly that.

Did it become the driving force that made them run even harder?

Who knew.

"Listen up. I told you, I'm a professional at grinding people down."

Rem insisted, and told Enkrid to just watch quietly, so Enkrid listened.

And he was not wrong.

Rem really could run a man into the ground.

Otherwise, there was no way these men would have that kind of malice in their eyes after just one week.

As they ran into the training yard, it almost looked like a cold blue aura was pouring from their eyes.

Shaaahhh.

The pouring rain made it look even more like that.

Enkrid had not liked this nonstop rain much.

Still.

Good.

He loved their eyes. Just moving their feet and running had filled their eyes with spite.

There was no reason to just stand and watch anymore.

Even before repeating today, Enkrid had been a half-crazed training fanatic.

Every day, he moved his body and swung his sword until his palms split open.

Was now any different?

If anything, holding himself back had been the hard part.

He made them run under the pretense of training, then thought of Count Molsen. Of course he wanted to swing a sword.

So Enkrid pushed his own body hard too, outside his personal training time, both on the platform and below it.

"At this point, I think we should call this brute stupidity."

Kraiss watched and muttered quietly. Enkrid was exactly the same as before.

That was what these moments had been.

Enkrid liked the eyes of soldiers driven to the edge, and he liked that he himself was moving forward.

"Now swing your weapons."

He had made them do nothing but run all day, and only after seven days did he let them pick up weapons.

No square formation drills, no formation movement, no coordinated group exercises. Those were not Enkrid's specialty, and not what he could do.

He planned to develop their basic abilities further.

Marcus watched all of this from a distance.

"I just gave him a title."

Why was he working this hard?

The lieutenant beside him nodded and answered.

"Seriously."

"Any deserters?"

"...Looks like they want to, badly."

The lieutenant trailed off, and Marcus asked again.

"Looks like it?"

"They don't seem to have the strength for it."

If you leave someone with no strength to flee, they cannot flee. That was the saying.

Enkrid's training was exactly that.

From Marcus's point of view, Enkrid enjoyed other people's cheers and praise.

But there was something that came before even that.

Enkrid was the type who ran straight at his goal.

If there was something he had to do, he did that first, before cheers or praise.

What must I do to become a knight?

Sharpen the sword.

Then do exactly that, every day, the same way.

Enkrid did. Watching him, Marcus could not help being impressed. He could not help being awed.

Then what was he doing this for now?

He looked like someone who had been waiting for the title of Training Company Commander.

Wasn't he moving exactly like a man who had waited for it?

Looking now, he even seemed to enjoy killing intent and hostility as much as cheers and praise.

Or not. Did he simply enjoy tormenting other people?

The thought could occur.

Marcus was simply relieved he was not the one down there.

* * *

Bell had history with Enkrid.

Enkrid had saved his life, and after that they had crossed paths several times.

So Bell thought:

He'll keep it reasonable.

Any human would.

That man Enkrid was not normal, sure.

Still, he would not think everyone could endure the exact same training process he did.

So he'll keep it reasonable.

He will.

Bell believed it.

That belief shattered in two days. The tower built from trust vanished without a trace. Wiped clean. Collapsed.

"Huff, huff, guh."

His breathing rose right into his throat.

"Fall behind and you'll get hit, yeah?"

Behind him, the mad axe murderer chased them with a grin.

He swung his axe through empty air with a broad smile. Maybe he would not actually kill them, but he definitely looked like he would beat them, and getting hit by that thing would obviously hurt far worse than running.

"Run, then?"

At first they had only run laps around the training yard. Now the axe murderer chased them from behind and harassed them. They had to run like their lives depended on it.

And in fact, if they fell behind, they got hit, then ran again, over and over.

"You wanna kill me? Then kill me. Sneak attack, ambush, either one. Come at me, comrades."

He giggled as he said it, and several soldiers' shoulders trembled.

They really did want to beat him to death.

Bell did not. No, he could not. Running alone already had him choking for breath.

After they conquered several hills at full sprint, they came back to the training ground.

"Pick up your weapons."

After that, it was simple repetition of fundamentals.

"If you want, I'll fight anytime. Seriously, come at me."

The axe murderer kept provoking them between drills, and a few soldiers challenged the blond swordsman who looked calmer and easier to handle.

"If you last five exchanges in sparring, you get to rest?"

"It proves your skill."

His name was Ragna.

And he was not what he looked like.

Bell expected him to hold back.

Crack. Smack.

Ragna swung a wooden sword so fast Bell could barely see it. If it had not been wood, if it had been metal even unsharpened...

He'd be dead.

Ragna looked down at the unconscious man and said flatly,

"Weak."

No, fuck.

We are not weak, you people are just absurdly strong.

The words rose all the way to Bell's throat, but he did not say them.

"If you're pissed, come at me too, please. I beg you."

The axe murderer's words cooled Bell's anger.

If you go in, you die. Understood.

They sprinted all morning, ate lunch, then swung weapons at full force all afternoon.

Simple training.

But doing it every day made it true hell.

"Demon, maybe?"

At bedtime, one comrade muttered that, and Bell silently agreed.

Demon bastard.

Still, nobody could say much, because that bastard trained longer than all the soldiers, and harder, and rougher.

"Watch this spar, brothers."

There was Enkrid fighting that huge religious soldier.

"There goes the axe murderer."

There was sparring with Rem, who had started calling himself by the nickname the soldiers gave him.

He fought Ragna, and Jaxon too.

Enkrid fought hard, but he did not win.

If anything, he got beaten even worse.

Audin swept his ankle, then followed with a spinning back kick at a speed nobody expected from that massive body.

That single blow sent Enkrid flying. He became a bird, flew backward, and crashed into the rack piled with practice swords at one side of the training yard.

Boom.

After days of rain, the ground was mud, and he planted headfirst.

Is he going to die like that? People were so shocked their hands stopped on their own.

"If you're gonna rest, die first and rest."

Then Rem, acting as an instructor, said that to the soldiers watching. Sometimes Jaxon appeared at their side and jabbed their ribs.

Move. That was the message.

They swung their arms and weapons by reflex, but their eyes never left Enkrid on the ground.

The demon of training and discipline stood up again.

He looked like he had crawled back from hell.

His scalp had split, blood ran down, and dark brown sludge dripped from his body after rolling in mud.

Something dark and brown dripped from around his forearm, and everyone's gaze shifted back to his face.

Is he okay?

Everyone thought it.

"Hmm, that hurts."

And that was what he said.

He was insane. Crazy for the sword.

Sword-crazy bastard.

Bell swallowed the thought.

"It's harder now to leave as much room in my hands as before, Company Commander brother-nim. Especially when you charge me like that."

Enkrid seemed to have crossed some line and rushed in too hard.

They saw scenes like that every other day.

At first they were shocked. Later it was horrifying. After a month, they slowly adapted.

Then summer passed, autumn approached, and during that forced march with no days off for two full months except one half-day break every ten days, word came that nearby Magic Beasts needed to be culled.

"The number of nearby Magic Beasts has risen lately. Heard there are horse-type Magic Beasts with fangs. It's an extermination operation."

The Battalion Commander said it, and it began under the guidance of the 2nd Company Commander.

"Hah, fuck, does that mean no training today?"

It was Squad Leader Vengeance. Poison glinted in his eyes, and a blade-like aura rose from his whole body.

A person could change in just two months.

"We'll be fighting all day instead, right?"

Bell answered from beside him.

Bell's own presence had changed too.

If it had not, he might have deserted by now.

Dying during training would have been the stupidest death possible.

"Let's kill those crazy colt bastards first."

Vengeance said it while shaking his longbow. He had grown stronger than before, so he had been issued a new longbow.

It was half again as big as his old one. The sinew string was harder and tougher too.

His entire archer unit had similar upgrades.

Marcus did not spare Krona on the unit's gear. That part felt damn good too.

Letting a mad Company Commander handle training was the worst part.

"Over there!"

Three soldiers from the Reconnaissance Team spotted an approaching group of Magic Beasts.

Usually Magic Beasts were former carnivores, but sometimes even herbivores became Magic Beasts.

Among them, horses were one of the worst types to deal with.

A horse with protruding fangs was dangerous from the charge alone. Body-rush impact was their weapon.

"More than ten!"

At the Reconnaissance Team's report, the 2nd Company Commander shouted.

"Archeeers!"

Vengeance obeyed that call to the letter. The 2nd Company Commander trained with them too, despite being a company commander himself.

He was a loyal man.

They had heard the 1st Company Commander skipped training.

At the shout calling archers, Vengeance's platoon moved.

"Fire!"

Vengeance shouted and hooked his own arrow to the string and drew. The longbow twisted with a creak and groan.

The days when his muscles screamed had passed.

Only two months, sure, but he had lived beside a demon worse than those fang-baring, snorting, devilish horse Magic Beasts.

Had those days been meaningless?

Fweeeak!

His arrow snapped off the string and buried itself in a horse Magic Beast's skull.

The sound of it cutting through air, and the thud of it bursting a skull, both sounded almost cheerful.

The struck beast's head jerked up. The charging horse tumbled and fell.

A strange sensation gripped Vengeance.

It felt like every single muscle fiber answered his will.

Increased strength and stamina from brutal training gave him a new perspective.

More than that, those two months of being pushed to extremes had given him mental room too.

One more shot.

The horse Magic Beasts were charging, but he was still calm enough to judge he had time.

"Fire!"

When he drew the bowstring, the horse Magic Beast looked huge, especially its head.

His concentration burned hotter than ever.

With that fixed in his sight, Vengeance released.

Papapapapang!

He matched timing with his subordinates as they drew and released.

With that volley, ten Magic Beasts died quickly.

Arrows flew in and punched through heads and torsos alike.

"Hiiieee!"

The dying cry of horse Magic Beasts rang out.

"More incoming!"

Before anyone could admire anything, the Reconnaissance Team shouted again. As soon as they killed ten, another fifteen or so came charging from behind.

These were beasts that closed distance before they could loose another round.

"Engage!"

That was the 2nd Company Commander's shout. Soon horse Magic Beasts and humans crashed into close combat.

You could not achieve explosive growth in two months.

Still, compared to before, their strength had risen, stamina had risen, and concentration had improved.

Bell felt it too.

His body felt light. Compared to a monster like Enkrid, horse Magic Beasts were much easier opponents.

"Kill them!"

"Crush them!"

"Sweep them!"

Everyone yelled something as they pierced horse Magic Beast skulls, or cut through the thicker muscles hardened by beastification.

They stabbed with spears and swung glaives taken as spoils from earlier battlefields.

Whooong!

The 2nd Company Commander also swung a glaive, and his power stood out.

The blade of his glaive cut off a horse's foreleg.

Purple blood burst up in a spray.

Demon Creature blood was black, while Magic Beast blood could be blue or purple.

That distinctive blood splashed everywhere.

In a way, the fight felt almost too easy.

One infantryman, drenched in blood from head to toe, spoke.

"...Why are these guys such pushovers?"

He meant it.

There had been no crisis at all.

Piiiiii!

After that, one griffin dove in.

Vengeance's archers hit its wings, then the soldiers rushed in and hacked it to death.

A griffin was a creature that could fairly be called an upper-grade Demon Creature, but they could handle it.

It was not a swarm, just one.

Right after the battle, none of them argued that their skill had changed.

The Border Guard standing army had always been men who lived beside war.

Their skills were already exceptional, and now they had gone further.

Back with the unit, Enkrid praised them in his own way.

"You still haven't run today, right?"

Magic Beast hunting was Magic Beast hunting, and running was running.

"You're a fucking bastard, seriously."

Bell finally spat out the curse he had held in this whole time. He had privately thought he had changed because of this training, but what came out of Enkrid's mouth was so absurd his real feelings spilled out before he could stop them.

"So that's a sparring request?"

If you cursed and pushed back, it counted as a sparring request. That was Rem's rule.

"It's been a while, Bell."

Enkrid nodded and called him out.

Bell could not back down here.

He could not ask for mercy either.

If you decide to fight, give it your best.

That was what Enkrid always emphasized.

Now was the time to charge straight in.

Training continued.

Separate from Bell getting beaten up, Enkrid did what he had to do.

And it was not only training.

"He came. Looks like your first guest."

Before evening, Kraiss came to find Enkrid.

Enkrid was not bored of repeating daily training, but hearing that someone had come gave him a short burst of pleasure and excitement.

"Starting with a big one."

Kraiss continued.

Those were promising words.

Led by Kraiss, Enkrid stepped into the market streets.

The other party was waiting at Vanessa's Pumpkin Soup.

As Kraiss had confidently said, once you spread the rumor, you do not go find them, they come find you.

This was that first guest.

"So you're him? The guy they call the War-Ending Soldier?"

A man stood in the training yard behind the inn. Two sword scars stood out on his face. One crossed over the bridge of his nose, and the other carved deep across his cheek.

His face carried force all by itself.

So did the weapon in his hand.

A morningstar with sharp spikes on the end.

Every spike looked wickedly sharp, and even the weight of the iron head looked unusual.

"Ibarn."

The man gave his name. Then Kraiss added from behind.

"Mercenary Ibarn. He's extremely famous. A city-class powerhouse, and they call him Ibarn the Choker."

"Sounds like my nickname is flashier."

Enkrid muttered while looking at him, and Kraiss answered like it was obvious.

"Yeah, exactly. Flashy flowers attract bees and butterflies."

The nickname Kraiss spread on purpose was definitely flashier.

The War-Ending Soldier who ended a war, embarrassing name or not, it was what Enkrid wanted. He stepped forward.

Before Enkrid could say anything, the scar-faced mercenary, Ibarn, spoke first.

"Let's spar once."

Enkrid nodded.

= = =

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