WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES

Chapter 240: Cut.

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The moment Jaxon slipped out of Swallow Blade's line of sight, he peeled away.

No need to signal anyone.

That barbarian bastard.

Every time Jaxon vanished, the man picked up on it. Jaxon did leave a faint trace on purpose so it could be noticed, but even so, that awareness was exceptional.

No sound. No visible figure.

He slipped through the brush, and the grass only stirred as lightly as if a bee had landed.

Jaxon moved with practiced skill, and avoiding that Swallow Blade idiot's eyes was easy work.

Then he infiltrated the place where the hostages were being held.

Because he had moved quickly the moment he got out of sight.

Not the kind of thing he'd usually do for free.

The thought flickered through him. He had not been hired through the guild, and not privately either. Was he trying too hard?

It disappeared as quickly as it came.

His body moved first.

It was unfamiliar, but not unpleasant.

For now, he was part of the Madmen Company.

He stepped into the abandoned hut.

"How?"

Bell recognized him and asked.

"Fine."

Jaxon answered shortly, then cut the ropes binding Bell's wrists and ankles.

His dagger moved a few more times, and the tied-up people were quickly freed.

After that, he led them to the back of the hut, where a small side room sat.

Why go into a dead end?

Everyone asked with their eyes. Bell, who had gone in first, spoke up.

"Did you break through the wall?"

Instead of answering, Jaxon pointed outside.

Rather than using the front door, he had sliced open the back wall of the hut with his sword and made a new exit.

A back door, basically.

He could cut through the wall so easily because of his unique magic weapon, but he had no reason to explain that. He had no duty to answer the question either.

Jaxon did what he came to do.

"Get out."

He had moved separately because he never believed the other side would keep its promise. Getting these people out first would help that brain-broken captain too.

Now the key was not getting spotted.

If he wanted to avoid killing the woman in that unlucky grinning bastard's arms, this was the right move.

The captain said he would protect her.

So Jaxon would make that happen.

He did think it did not suit him at all.

Saving people instead of killing them.

How unlike him.

And doing it without payment.

Still, it was what his captain wanted.

After rescuing every hostage, he glanced out the window to check how the fight was turning.

A giant charged. A Flexible Sword shot forward like a snake. Just before it could stab into Enkrid's back, Enkrid moved.

That was the moment Enkrid saw Jaxon.

* * *

Enkrid put his left hand on the charging shield and detonated Heart of Superhuman Strength.

He held against it with brute force, then shoved it aside.

The force loaded into the shield slid away to the side.

Something dropped straight down right after that. The Half-Giant's sword, swung from above. A linked follow-up after the shield strike.

And on top of that, a sharp thrust came for his back.

As he redirected the shield, Enkrid caught the tip of the Flexible Sword on his shoulder plate, then pulled his right foot back to the left and shifted stance.

A body-redirection technique he had learned from Audin.

He moved and swung at the same time. His blade rose to meet the descending sword, then he relaxed half his strength and let it slide away.

Soft and Flowing Sword. He redirected everything. His training paid off.

And all of it happened in barely half a breath.

Thump, ting, clang! Chririririring!

He shoved off the shield, blocked the Flexible Sword with his shoulder plate, and redirected the descending blade.

Sparks flew, but because he had redirected everything, the impact was light. Which meant he still had room for the next move.

After finishing all those motions, Enkrid snapped his toe into the Half-Giant's shin.

Crack!

She endured it, yanked back the shield, and swung it like a blunt weapon.

Then the Flexible Sword came for his back again.

Calmly, Enkrid parried, blocked, and redirected.

How should anyone describe it?

He was faithful to the basics, yet somehow there was no opening.

How is he doing that?

The question stayed in Swallow Blade's head, but the Half-Giant had no question at all.

The moment she saw it, she understood his movement.

Faster, stronger, more flexible.

If you moved before your opponent and read ahead, if your speed and raw strength were superior, then yes, this kind of movement was possible.

Ah.

He was reading her style. The Half-Giant almost got drunk on the fight again, but she could not allow herself to.

"Take this!"

Swallow Blade shouted from behind.

Shriiiik!

A hostage flew overhead, too terrified even to scream.

A thrown weapon aimed right at Enkrid. Alive, which meant he could not simply swat it away. A very troublesome projectile.

Its dangling skirt was wet, maybe because the weapon had pissed itself.

In that slowed moment, Enkrid's fixed gaze shifted sideways. The flying hostage and Swallow Blade came into view.

By then, the Flexible Sword was already snaking toward his ankle.

Enkrid's body flipped completely.

The Half-Giant had to swing, shield or sword, one of them.

Was this not exactly why they had taken that position?

Why had they fought with Enkrid between them?

For this. For this moment. Even after being played by that vicious forked tongue.

Even so, her hand would not move.

Watching the incoming Flexible Sword, Enkrid answered with a kick from the tip of his boot.

Snap. The boot tip got cut off, but his toes were fine.

Then he caught the flying hostage gently.

Thud. He absorbed the weight through his knees, turned, and bled off the remaining force.

If this had been a contest for catching flying people, he would have won instantly.

"Are you okay?"

He asked, but Juri, the woman who made marmalade, still could not speak.

She was that shocked.

"I can't do it."

A voice came from behind. The Half-Giant's husky voice.

"You can't?"

Enkrid glanced back and spoke as if it were nothing.

"Yeah. I can't."

She nodded.

She had not wanted this kind of fight. This was not someone she wanted to kill. She had been told to kill him, but she could not make herself strike.

This is wrong.

Her head said no, but her chest pushed back.

She knew she should not do this, yet her hand still would not move.

The Half-Giant gave up. No one knew it, but at that same moment she had also given up her own life.

It was no different from suicide.

Still.

I don't think I'll regret it.

She thought that and pulled her hand back. She had no intention of fighting anymore.

"Crazy bitch!"

Swallow Blade shouted. But as if this was no surprise at all, he jumped backward.

Where was he going? Then Enkrid saw it. The hut where the hostages had been gathered. His feet were fast.

Enkrid had ways to stop him.

He could throw a dagger. He could rush in and slam into him.

Maybe not a perfect stop, but enough to buy time, maybe enough to keep him from reaching the hut at all.

He did not need to.

Swallow Blade yanked open the hut door. Enkrid just watched.

The movement of that Flexible Sword from a moment ago still lingered in his eyes.

The tip of my boot got cut.

He had tried to dodge first, then parry, but at the very end the blade tip bent at an unexpected angle.

What should he do next time he faced it?

More than seven methods came to mind.

The experience he had stacked over time was finally blooming and sinking into his body.

Pel may have put in the final button, but Enkrid had been fastening buttons long before that. If he could not fasten them, he stitched. If he could not stitch, he made new buttons and kept going.

So no, he did not owe Pel thanks for that.

"...Fuck."

Swallow Blade muttered.

Cursing first was only natural.

The hut was already empty.

Because Jaxon was there.

Enkrid had expected this. Swallow Blade had not.

"Surprised?"

As Enkrid moved to set the hostage down, the Half-Giant held out her hand.

"I won't hurt her."

She had refused even to stab him from behind, so she was not about to torment a hostage either.

Obviously.

Enkrid handed the woman to the Half-Giant. She set her down quietly on the ground.

Then Enkrid walked toward Swallow Blade.

Slowly. Steadily.

Rain had soaked the ground, and wet, sucking sounds followed each step.

At the sound of boots pressing mud, the man turned his head.

"You smuggled out the hostages? You liar!"

Look at this bastard. Shameless enough to rival Rem.

He shoved a blade in from behind out of nowhere, and now he was calling someone a liar?

"You've got pretty thick skin."

Swallow Blade had no room left to smile now.

He took his stance with his own sword in one hand and the long trailing Flexible Sword in the other.

Enkrid let his blade tip pass behind his head, hand set beside his right ear.

A one-strike kill stance from Heavy Sword Style. Wrath Stance.

Cut charging lions. Cut hardened steel.

Ragna's words rose in his mind, and the stance came naturally.

If the Flexible Sword was tricky, what then? If it came back even after being parried, what then? Cut all of it.

There is nothing in this world that cannot be cut. If I fail to cut it, I am lacking. Or my gear is lacking.

Ragna's words.

A mad slacker, but his genius was real. Learning the sword from him had been luck.

"Hey. I am definitely killing you."

Swallow Blade said it, then let go of his intact sword with a ting.

Kill me? How?

Enkrid was not being arrogant. He was certain.

Swallow Blade was not his match.

Even before meeting Shepherd Pel, Enkrid could have handled him.

If he had accepted getting injured and committed to killing, he could have killed him.

Of course, that was Swallow Blade before he started using the Flexible Sword.

Then what about now?

I won't lose. I can cut it. I will cut it.

That repeated will planted a small seed in Enkrid's heart.

A formless vigor he had learned through refusal. It had not sprouted yet, but the seed was firmly planted.

"Try it."

Enkrid said.

"Yeah, you fucking bastard."

Cornered, the man shoved a hand into his coat.

Sword Flicking Technique? Was he throwing something?

Enkrid guessed wrong. What came out was a rolled bundle.

It was the first artifact Enkrid had ever seen in his life.

A very rare item. A Spell Scroll.

Something that stored a spell and triggered it when needed.

Magic was mysterious, and spells were strange.

"Blow up!"

The man shouted and threw the scroll above Enkrid.

Enkrid did not recognize it as a scroll. He had never seen one before.

Still, his sixth sense warned him.

Something was about to happen with that scroll.

Then it happened.

Fwoosh!

The scroll ignited, and suddenly a massive fireball formed and crashed downward.

It was not as fast as an arrow, so he could dodge it.

Even before taking his stance, Enkrid had mapped the area around him in his mind.

If I dodge?

The fireball would fly behind him.

On that path were the Half-Giant and the woman who had pissed herself.

Even if the Half-Giant blocked with her shield, what if it exploded?

The woman he had saved would die.

Enkrid's thinking accelerated.

He judged everything in an instant, reached his conclusion, and pulled out the best he could from Wrath Stance.

Pak!

He charged straight at the incoming fireball.

He kicked off the ground, swallowed a breath, and raised his sword. The hand on the hilt. The balance of the body moving with his feet.

He brought all of it into one.

Kwooong!

It sounded like that.

Enkrid's body blurred and stretched like an afterimage.

At least that was how it looked in Swallow Blade's eyes.

You idiot!

Swallow Blade was sure of victory.

What kind of swordsman charged a fireball bare-bodied?

One hit and it was over. If not dead, then gravely wounded. No way Enkrid could stop him after that.

That half-giant bitch had stepped back, but she would not interfere.

The joy of victory, the rush, and layered on top of it, the pent-up hunger from holding back killing for too long.

He had been cornered and was now breaking free, so Swallow Blade's thoughts accelerated too.

Their thoughts met for a single instant.

It was when Enkrid's stretching body reached the front of the fireball.

The most rational action possible in Wrath Stance came from Enkrid's fingertips.

Pivoting on his left foot, he sent rotational force from toes to waist to hand and unleashed a Heavy Sword Style diagonal cut.

Whooom!

Everything happened in an instant.

From the tree beside the hut, where Jaxon had been watching, his brow twitched.

He cut it?

The slash born from Wrath Stance.

The fireball flying through space split into two along a diagonal line.

The divided fireballs dropped left and right around Enkrid.

Boom! Boom! Kkwaaang!

Explosions erupted. The wet dirt dried at once and blasted outward.

Pebbles turned into flying sparks and rattled past Enkrid's head, striking his back.

After pouring out that power, Enkrid was down with his left knee on the ground.

He briefly replayed the moment he cut the fireball, then stood.

"Hm, it cuts."

Too flat to call amazement.

If it cut, good. If not, he had figured he would just get a little singed.

Maybe half his face might have burned away.

But Enkrid had something more important than his looks.

This moment, where he did not give up and did not back down.

And like that, Enkrid cut magic.

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