WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES

Chapter 241: Teresa Is Dead.

= = =

“...Fuuuck? Does this even make sense?”

Swallow Blade’s eyes went wide, and he muttered in disbelief.

Enkrid did not answer. He silently replayed what he had just done, and another voice answered from behind him instead.

“It happened right in front of you, and you still do not believe it?”

When had he come back? The voice came from the rear. It was Rem. Had he seen the Half-Giant stop?

Everyone’s shoulders heaved. They looked like they had just sprinted at full speed.

Everyone, Marcus included, was on their feet.

Even while gasping for breath, several archers had arrows nocked on their longbows.

If things went bad, they looked ready to fire at once.

The ones aiming at the giant were not master archers, but hitting her would not have been a problem.

At the same time, a few who were especially skilled with bows turned their strings toward Enkrid.

“Do not shoot and decorate the captain’s skull by mistake. Just stay still.”

Rem said that to them.

“Leave that warrior alone too.”

Enkrid said that as well.

A few archers facing the Half-Giant quietly relaxed their draw.

They could not fire recklessly anyway with a hostage right beside her. Enkrid himself had rescued that hostage.

“So it can be cut?”

Even at that distance, the flame being split was clearly visible. It was impossible to miss.

Kraiss muttered, and Enkrid thought he should shrug, but he did not. The enemy was still standing right in front of him.

“Haha, what the hell is this, seriously.”

Swallow Blade let out an empty laugh. Until now, he had taken many lives just by hiding and then unfolding his Flexible Sword.

Even then, he had saved his scrolls. They were like spare lives.

He had seen people dodge magic fireballs before. Sure, those existed. Right, you dodged. A normal swordsman should have been busy dodging.

He expected dodging.

The surprise was supposed to create an opening, and then the fastest blade would stab into that opening and churn it open.

It was his killing tactic, and his last resort.

So why did he cut that? Why was that cut? A magic fireball could be cut?

‘He cut it? Cut it? That can really be cut?’

Swallow Blade went blank. Only for a moment, but seeing something that absurd knocked his mind out of place.

“It was fine.”

When had he approached? The blond man with the lazy expression spoke and stood beside Enkrid.

“Oh, you came?”

Enkrid asked casually.

“I came.”

Ragna answered.

None of them were the type to just stand and watch. Enkrid looked ahead in silence. His gaze seemed to ask, what are you going to do now?

“Fine, I lost.”

Swallow Blade said it like an admission, then reached into his coat again.

Watching him, Ragna muttered, unusually enough.

“I told you, we would meet again.”

“Yeah, let’s meet again.”

What came out of the coat was a new scroll.

Another fireball?

Enkrid tensed, and several archers hesitated over whether to shoot right now.

Boom.

Ragna kicked off the ground and charged.

He closed in like he was flying. He moved so fast his shape blurred.

As he rushed, Swallow Blade hurriedly tore the scroll.

Riiip!

Beyond that torn scroll, just as Enkrid saw, Ragna also slashed diagonally through empty air.

Riiiiiip!

A strange sound lingered in the air.

Thud.

A dull noise followed.

“I told you, we would meet again.”

Ragna said it over that sound. The thing that made the dull noise was the floor. Enkrid saw what had fallen and silently nodded.

When Ragna said they would meet again, he did not take it lightly, and when that lazy bastard said those words, he was truly terrifying.

That scroll looked related to spatial movement.

Only half of Swallow Blade remained on the ground.

It was his lower half, spilling entrails and blood in thick pulses.

His upper half was wrapped in light and vanished in a flash.

* * *

“Aaaargh!”

The Spatial Escape Scroll had a success rate just over half.

If even a little went wrong, you dropped somewhere strange, but this time it succeeded.

Still, before that, the incoming blade had split through the middle of the spell as it activated.

‘Crazy bastard!’

Swallow Blade’s eyes rolled from the extreme pain.

He could not even tell whether it was a magical side effect or the aftershock of the slash.

The magic backlash blinded him.

When that effect cleared, he felt horrific pain, looked down, and found nothing below his belly.

“Ugh.”

Nobody survived with half their body gone.

Blood and intestines flowed onto the ground. There was no fixing this. Even a high-ranking priest could not restore it.

Swallow Blade crawled on the ground, then died in that remote wasteland.

He died foaming blood, with half his body missing.

Before long, several bald-headed vultures flew down over his corpse, and after that, crows swarmed in.

* * *

“What do we do with that one?”

Vengeance asked. He meant the Half-Giant, huge enough to feel oppressive.

“I have no intention of fighting more. Kill me.”

The giant answered in the same voice as before. It was rough, yet oddly pleasant to hear.

Enkrid let out a long breath and walked up to her.

“Even if you had your reasons, that looked like a filthy thing to do.”

At those sudden words, the Half-Giant dropped to her knees and raised her head.

“The one who sent me was a bishop of the Cursed Ground Holy Sect.”

That revealed her identity. She was someone who should be killed.

And yet.

Enkrid did not immediately swing his sword.

Watching him, Marcus thought:

Why? Does he want to lock her up and torment her?

Killing her looked best.

“Those who betray the cult die. Every one of them ends up that way. So I will die here.”

The Half-Giant continued.

Enkrid watched her in silence.

A cultist.

She did not look like someone who had chosen it, and more than that, her last action stuck in his mind.

She turned away, saying she could not do it, and when the fireball exploded from the scroll, she shielded the hostage with her own body.

If she had not blocked it herself, the hostage might have died.

Even now, he could see singed hair and blisters rising on her forearm.

Burns.

Were cultists the kind of people who risked their lives to save someone?

“Do we really have to kill her?”

Juri, the girl who had peed herself, finally opened her mouth. That was her first line.

“She must die.”

The answer came from the Half-Giant. Marcus left the choice to Enkrid. Truthfully, what he had done here was a very small part of the board.

“The cult will come after you. Be careful in everything.”

Even with the giant’s warning, Enkrid gave no answer.

“Why? Want me to do it?”

Rem cut in when he could not watch any longer. He raised his axe onto his shoulder as he spoke, sounding no better than an executioner.

“If you do not die, cultists will hunt you?”

That was how Enkrid heard she must die, so he asked.

“Is there anything more dangerous to them than an apostate?”

That was the answer he got back.

Believing in the cult was difficult and harsh, and there were no examples of people leaving once inside. Or if there were, they were extremely rare.

So why did this woman look like she wanted to quit the cult so badly?

“Do you wish to repent, sister?”

Audin, who had been watching, asked.

“My name is Teresa.”

It was a grand name. Teresa carried a holy meaning.

“I have no family name. I was born and raised in the cult, and I fulfilled my duty inside it.”

She showed no faith. She looked full of torment instead. Her words and expression held only conflict and regret.

“With death, I will finally rest.”

She murmured it to herself. It was not a line from the cult scripture.

Enkrid raised his sword.

“If you are born again, what do you want to do?”

Light reflected off the blade. It was a sharp, hard sword. If it could easily cut a giant’s neck, then cutting this Half-Giant’s neck would be no issue.

The giant answered.

“I will fight and fight again, prove myself, and live.”

She smiled as she spoke.

It was a clear, refreshing smile.

Enkrid liked her quite a lot too.

Then he swung his sword.

Whoosh.

Fast enough to leave no afterimage.

By that sword swing, Cultist Teresa died.

* * *

“Uh, is this really okay? This is basically a cover-up, is it not?”

“True.”

At Kraiss’s words, Enkrid nodded.

It was a rough signal that things would probably be fine. In truth, Enkrid did not know either.

This choice had been close to impulse. It was not calculated.

It was similar to sparing Dunbakel before.

“No, really, will this be okay?”

“I do not know.”

“Are you not way too unworried?”

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

It was a simple conversation inside the lodging, then Rem cut in.

He stepped between Enkrid and Kraiss, slung an arm over each of their shoulders, and asked while pulling them in.

“Why, who is picking a fight? Feeling bitter? Say it. Huh? I will just stab them.”

‘Stab,’ huh.

That probably would not happen, Kraiss thought.

Who would even complain?

There was a place where only the men discussed as strongest in the unit gathered.

Inside the barracks, people called them the Madmen Company with a tone of respect.

And a new member joined them.

A masked woman.

“I want to keep my name as it is.”

Teresa.

A former cultist.

Now, well, how should he put it.

“I wandered the continent all my life and finally settled down. Take care of me.”

She said she was newly reborn.

She said death made her forget her past.

Kraiss thought it would have been stranger if she followed quietly. What was this woman thinking, really?

“Ah, whatever.”

Kraiss stopped voicing concern.

What was the point.

The captain would do what he wanted anyway.

The one who declared he would kill her, cut empty air, no, more exactly cut her singed hair, then persuaded a woman who insisted she had to die, that was all the captain.

“Die on a battlefield, if that is what you want.”

He did not even speak at length.

The Half-Giant simply followed those words.

“You are saying you will take responsibility for me?”

“Take responsibility for yourself.”

“You will become enemies with the cult. They will come at you endlessly.”

“...Did you come here to have a friendly meal with them?”

Teresa had come to kill too. The cult was already an enemy. They had already marked Enkrid as an enemy.

So he said it with a face that held not even a little worry. Did that move Teresa’s heart?

No one knew.

Only this.

“You will regret it.”

“Yeah. I will not.”

At the end of that trivial conversation, she accepted her death.

“As of today, Cultist Teresa is dead.”

That was the end.

Battalion Commander Marcus said nothing either. He did not ask if bringing her along was right. He did not ask if they were worried about the cult.

He just left it.

‘Really not my problem.’

By the way, the captain really was demonic charm itself.

That was Kraiss’s stray thought.

“Let’s go.”

Today was another training day, and Enkrid moved out with his unit.

He remembered the Rapier Swordsman had infiltrated before.

Was it because discipline inside the unit had gotten loose?

A hostage got taken, and one of those hostages had been a soldier.

“This Bell will never make that disgraceful mistake again!”

Getting captured once had lit a fire in him.

Enkrid looked at all the soldiers gathered on the drill ground and said:

“I will make all of you be reborn.”

Until now, he had said he was only giving training people could endure, and even that had been hell.

Now he said he would make them be reborn.

“Rem.”

“I am here, sir.”

“Ragna.”

“Yes.”

“Audin.”

“Yes, brother.”

Three instructors.

“Dunbakel.”

“Uh.”

“Beat down anyone who charges in.”

Dunbakel, assistant instructor and violence specialist.

“Teresa the Wanderer.”

“Yes.”

At the calm answer in the Half-Giant’s voice, several soldiers twitched their shoulders.

That reply carried overwhelming power.

“I will not complain even if you half-kill them.”

What was this, a death sentence?

Bell felt his motivation slowly draining.

He truly wanted to run.

‘Should I retire?’

That thought stayed inside him. Of course, Bell was not the only one.

Every one of them felt a surge of wanting to run away.

Before, they had just run. Now they had to run carrying backpacks twice as heavy as before.

From morning to evening, there was no break at all.

And in between, sparring too.

“Today I pick you. You look like you can take a hit!”

Rem grabbed anyone and hit and beat them.

The others were no different.

“Your legs gave out, I see. Let me help you up, brother.”

Was helping someone up not supposed to be pulling them up by the arm?

Why did he help by smacking them up?

More than half the soldiers wanted guard duty.

That time was their only rest.

Deserting during duty was unthinkable.

No, even slacking on duty was impossible.

Had someone infiltrated the barracks before?

Did they say that could never be allowed again?

And then hostages? Hooostaaages?

A soldier got taken hostage?

Because of that, Bell got roasted from every direction for a while.

“So this is all because of that bastard Bell?”

That kind of talk spread among the soldiers for some time.

Bell himself was half dead trying to survive, so he did not even have ears for rumors.

Training, and occasional drifters who came by.

That was Enkrid’s daily life.

The training stayed the same.

But something did wedge itself into that routine.

“One more time!”

Edin Molsen.

The count’s wastrel son who should have gone home did not leave and stayed.

The guy who looked like his brother and his escort also stayed behind.

“Are you not going back to your territory?”

After Enkrid knocked him flat for rushing him again and again, he asked that.

“None of your business.”

Edin Molsen did not look like he planned to leave.

Did he have some purpose?

Enkrid did not care.

Winter was coming. It was the harshest season in the north of Pen-Hanil.

“Do you drink?”

When the cold wind started to bite, Edin Molsen asked while sprawled on the ground, and Enkrid answered honestly.

“I do not have time for that.”

A man crazy about training over drink, that was Enkrid.

“You are definitely a crazy bastard.”

Edin named him for what he was.

It was not wrong.

As Edin got up after lying there sprawled, someone who looked like him approached and asked:

“Will this really be the best?”

“I think it will become one of the best options.”

“Is that so?”

At his brother’s gloomy face, Edin gave a faint smile.

A smile with one eye swollen blue was not very attractive.

Soon the escort approached, and both men shut their mouths.

It was not something to discuss in front of the escort.

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