WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES

Chapter 263: Change, Change, Change.

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For ages, the continent's top strategists, military leaders, and commanders wanted to create magic corps.

In other words, they tried to gather mages and turn them into armed groups under their command.

"If we gather mages and build an army, we might create a force equal to a knight order!"

The first moron to think that way carried it out exactly as he said.

He wandered the continent, gathered people known for spellcasting, and promised them all sorts of things.

From support with land and supplies to help with the mages' deepest wishes.

Dozens of mages gathered and became one group.

That was how Demon's Womb was born.

Of course, it was not called Demon's Womb from the start.

"Let's call it the Tower of Wisdom."

That was the original name, from what people heard, but later historians named that place Demon's Womb.

Why?

Because those mage bastards gathered there, did whatever they did, and then a demon and twelve Balroks burst out, so the name fit.

The one called the Nameless Demon, because people at the time did not even have the leisure to name it, swept through three nearby territories, built an undead army, and claimed the title Father of the Dead.

The twelve Balroks that served him also fought true to their nature as creatures born for battle, combat, and war.

It was an event that happened between legend and recorded history, even if it never became full myth.

And that demon still existed.

In the end, knight orders from all over the continent marched out to drive back the demon nicknamed Father of the Dead, or The Last Door of Life.

The demon fought and fought, then retreated into the Cursed Ground.

That was how the demon called Father of the Dead came to coil itself deep inside the Cursed Ground.

[Because it possessed an eternal, undying body and soul, that demon could never be killed by human hands.]

People often referred to that demon with words like those.

It would have been nice if people had learned from that, but even afterward, many still tried to organize mages.

Some supposedly succeeded, but who knew. None of those endings were truly beautiful.

Rebellion, spells running wild, mages killing each other even though nobody had told them to.

"They are uncontrollable unstable elements."

Later, the Empire used that as an unofficial label for mages, and there was even a period of witch hunts and anti-magic crackdowns.

In the present, most people lowered their eyes when they saw a witch, feared her, and still held her in awe.

It was much the same for mages.

So what was the lesson here?

'Mages are capricious, self-willed, and impossible troublemakers who can go off in any direction.'

Even so, some people still built ties with mages in secret, or created the position of court mage in their kingdoms.

Still, the common view was that those were transactional relationships at best.

Thinking that, Enkrid looked at Esther.

After he and the Elf Company Commander had put down one Frog, the bastard was still unconscious.

And there was Esther.

For some reason, this panther only stared at him.

I have a complaint.

He could feel it without her saying a word.

His sixth sense and intuition, a new eye born from his five senses blurring, mixing, and merging, told him as much.

'What's with her?'

"Oh-ho."

Right before they parted, the Elf Company Commander let out an unreadable exclamation.

"See you again, onion fiance. I pray for the day I peel you and peel you again, until I finally see you naked."

Why was she directing that prayer at him?

Enkrid wondered, but that being was never someone a normal person could talk to with ordinary common sense.

"Please head back."

He sent her away with a rough wave.

She had also said they should do the Frog interrogation together, and he said fine.

Back in the barracks, Esther kept giving him strange looks, and that reminded him of all those historical stories about mages causing disasters.

Was this one not also a witch who might do anything at any time?

"Why?"

So he asked.

Better to ask directly than let things sour through hints and detours. That was Enkrid.

The more he thought about it, she was still a witch.

A witch who could even transform into a panther.

A witch who, for whatever reason, preferred being a panther to being human.

That was a misunderstanding.

Esther had to maintain beast form because of a curse. She was not doing this because she liked it.

Then again, every matter had two sides, and if something had good points, it had bad ones too.

Meaning the Beastification Curse was not purely bad.

For a genius witch who had lived with her World of Spells open since before she was fully grown, pulling useful elements out of a curse was easy.

And of course, the trigger for all of this had come from the man in front of her.

'Why?'

At first, that was all she had, a question.

When she was held in his arms, the power of her curse weakened. If the curse was a knot of tangled threads, then those twisted strands started loosening on their own.

If she had cut them by force, her world would have been polluted and damaged, but if she found the starting point and untangled them slowly, there was no such risk.

That man was the kind of person who could smoothly untangle the curse's threads.

Because of that, she had slept and woken in his arms, and now she was here.

'Why?'

The question continued. For a witch, questions like this were poison.

So she had to dig into it.

She had to keep thinking it through. That was the right answer.

Of course, she had more than thinking to do.

She adjusted the summoned entity she had first placed into her World of Spells, and gathered many items to increase the time she could stay in human form.

It was still not enough, but unless someone dragged in some so-called master of alchemy, she had already gathered everything currently available.

After that came the process of refining her World of Spells again.

She could not afford to be caught by a cheap curse like this again.

Esther had goals too.

What she needed to do after overcoming the curse. Broadly, there were two.

One was revenge.

She had to drive a flaming arrow into the skull of the bastard who had done this to her.

The second was on a different path, but it was her original ultimate reason for learning magic.

'The world must submit to the rule of magic.'

To build a new world through spells once again.

Even if, in the process, thousands of humans and other races died, nations collapsed, land rotted, and lakes turned black in an age of ruin.

'If that's what it takes, then that's what I'll do.'

Since when had she carried that goal?

Back when people called her the Witch of Fire?

Or when they called her the Blue-Eyed Sage?

Either way, she had held that will since then.

With magic, with spells, with mystery, the world would be reshaped.

Grrr.

While thinking, Esther bared her fangs a little without realizing it.

Even seeing that, the man did not care. He raised a hand and stroked her head.

"You sulking?"

She hated that tone, so she lightly bit his hand.

It should have hurt, but those blue eyes peeking through his black hair only smiled.

"Ow, you little brat."

She still did not like his way of speaking, but she let it pass.

Looking at that smiling face, she could not even stay angry.

He really was absurdly pretty.

Inside Esther was a huge, iron will that wanted to overturn the world.

She had carried it and nurtured it. That had been true until now, but recently her thoughts had started to change.

The first change she had faced in over a hundred years.

If the curse had been the start of that change, this man was the end of it.

'Why?'

Why did watching this man make her want to cheer for him?

Why did she want to see his future?

Why did she want to help him?

Why was it enjoyable to watch the blade he swung?

As her thoughts deepened, the man left for a neighboring territory. She thought he would return quickly, but several days passed and he did not come back.

Going to find him irritated her, and waiting also got on her nerves, and time kept passing.

She needed his embrace. She needed him to suppress the curse's energy again. But Esther had to sort out her thoughts first.

'Distraction is poison in the World of Spells.'

That poison could be very dangerous.

Poison that affected the mind was twice as dangerous as poison that harmed the body. Countless mages had already proved that.

She was refining the poison in her own heart, and when she finally needed the energy in that man's embrace again, he quietly returned.

Then he went out again without even finding or looking at her.

She heard a Frog had come, but why did he look like he had just been out playing with that pointy-ear?

'Why do I want to hit him once?'

Esther did not know why she was like this, but she did not brood deeply over it.

If this happened again next time, she decided she would follow her heart.

She was a witch, and a mage.

They were self-willed by nature. Selfish explorers of the unknown who put their own World of Spells first.

It might have been natural that the man in front of her had entered the scope of her curiosity.

'How can he be like that?'

She had met and seen dozens, hundreds of people who claimed they could use a sword.

This was the first human like him.

Even looking back to the first days when she was called a witch, she had never once seen someone like this.

How could she not be interested?

"Want to go look around the market? I glanced over and they were selling all kinds of things."

At that, Esther stood up.

She cleared the poison that had entered her World of Spells.

'Follow my heart.'

That was what she chose.

When Enkrid saw the sulking Esther stand, he scooped her into his arms.

"Off to the market? Then let's go together."

"What about that Frog?"

"Whatever he ate, he's still out of his mind. That drug is nasty."

"Did you find out what it was?"

He adjusted Esther in his arms and stepped outside, and he saw Rem beating Dunbakel.

He also saw Audin and Teresa sitting still.

Should he take them too?

That thought came up, so he asked, but all of them shook their heads.

"I seek an answer to the question our Lord has given," Audin said.

"I am Teresa the Wanderer. This is time to train. For the next spar."

Teresa, as serious about training as he was, was drenched in sweat.

"I'm busy. Go play by yourself. If I'm not there, huh? You can't even go to the market alone? People are gonna think I'm your father."

That crazy bastard Rem.

Instead of arguing that he was older, Enkrid stared at Dunbakel.

"Hit him once. You can do it."

He cheered him on, and the beastfolk's eyes blazed like never before.

"I will serve faithfully."

"Huh? You've lost it. Today we're really gonna train with spirit."

Seeing that, Rem broke into a wide smile. He looked excited because his opponent had shown the will to fight.

The guy was consistently insane.

Jaxon was nowhere to be seen, and Ragna, unusually, was holding his sword and swinging it around, so nobody dared interrupt him.

So they headed for the market.

They bought a few pieces of seasoned jerky Esther liked, and some marmalade too.

They had also brought in a few master bakers from Martai this time, so there should be plenty to eat and see.

No, that was not all.

Before this, they had only rushed through and glanced around, so they had not noticed.

"Doesn't it look like a lot has changed?"

Enkrid asked while scratching behind Esther's ear with a finger.

Esther puffed out her chest against him and let out a pleased purring sound.

Kraiss answered his captain flatly.

"You think?"

It had changed.

They had not looked closely at the market floor all this time, true.

"That Marcus guy, yeah, he's honestly insane."

Kraiss meant it in a good way. He briefly organized what he had heard and seen.

"He was spending Krona like a colt running around with its tail on fire."

Under a perfectly clear sky, sunlight poured down over their heads. For winter in the north, it was unbelievably good weather.

The number of people moving around the market had multiplied several times compared to before, and the inns were overflowing.

The inn called Vanessa's Pumpkin Soup was being expanded outright. Workers were hauling lumber and stones.

It was not happening only at that inn either.

The roads, the gates, the walls, all kinds of buildings, everything was crowded. Waves of workers moved everywhere.

"From what I overheard..."

As Enkrid listened to Kraiss, what Battalion Commander Marcus had done formed in his mind like a picture.

* * *

"Raise more watchtowers."

"Sir?"

"Ah, and dig a moat in front of the inner gate too."

"...We don't have that kind of manpower. And we don't have a separate outer wall."

"Then we make one."

Marcus did not get angry at his lieutenant's words.

He had experience, and he did not assume everyone around him was smart.

'The world would be weird if everyone were like Enkrid.'

Truthfully, most humans were stupid. Morons. Marcus knew that well.

So he did not bother explaining.

"Send out the barracks troops."

"Pardon?"

"Lots of mercenaries are coming in from outside, right? Hire all of them, then put them on shovel duty."

It started in one corner of his office. Marcus's will was clear, and so was his direction.

He accepted no dissent.

"Raise the watchtowers."

Building the moat and the watchtowers moved at the same time.

He bulldozed the slum district on the territory's outskirts.

Then he hired all the poor as workers.

"From now on, anyone who doesn't work neither eats nor sleeps."

What about punks who came to pick fights in the middle of that? How dare they.

At this point, one word from Border Guard's Battalion Commander could shake birds out of the sky. Even if a dragon flew over, he could probably rip off at least one scale.

Every battlefield he had shared with Enkrid gave him strength.

Most of all, now that the territory was stepping up as a trade domain, internal tax revenue had shot up.

In short, it was getting rich.

Marcus did line his own pockets a little, but he turned most of it into investment.

He dug a moat, but instead of doing the crazy thing of hauling water in to fill it, he just made it deep.

That was enough to keep siege rams and other close-range siege weapons from approaching.

They could pull in a waterway later.

He also dug a few more wells. He had started that long ago.

He began before people crowded in. When population increased, water and food had to be solved first. Marcus did exactly that.

Afterward, he kept moving without mercy.

"Train archers. If there are mercenaries who can shoot, hire them and tempt them into joining the army."

He paired that with a bold talent-building strategy.

"They say they won't come unless we hire their entire mercenary unit together..."

"Bring them all. Put gold coins in their hands."

What remained was gold.

They had taken Martai, and before that they had won the war with Azpen.

That made the place a safe zone where they did not have to worry about immediate Azpen raids.

So naturally trading companies and merchants gathered.

Mercenary units that could escort them entered the territory.

Therefore Krona circulated. It took no time for the lord at the center of that flow to become filthy rich.

Radical archer training.

Then warhorse development.

Along with those, expansion of watchtowers and defense facilities.

He spent Krona as fast as he had it.

On top of that, they were not short on manpower either.

"Didn't a bunch of guys stay behind after getting crushed by Enkrid too?"

There were plenty like that.

Some heard rumors, picked fights, then settled down after losing.

Some saw the fighting, got scared, and awkwardly stayed.

More stayed than left.

Normally, those kinds of people would have caused public order problems or started incidents.

"Round them all up."

He turned them into slaves of gold.

First he shoved Krona into their hands, then pulled them in.

Expanding the barracks was obvious.

That had already started. But this was not work one side could do alone.

"Contact the northern battalion."

Border Guard's standing army originally had two battalions.

The other one had marched out, built barracks near the Azpen front, and was laying foundations to start an entirely new territory.

Within reach of his gold, Marcus did everything he could.

He was such an outstanding administrator, politician, and operator that even Kraiss clicked his tongue and shook his head in admiration.

"So now that's where we are."

The number of watchtowers rose to sixteen, wall repairs were underway, and while the moat was being built, they also bought arrows in massive quantities.

Not wooden bows either. They bought composite bows.

He intended to spend every last copper coin they earned on defending and developing the territory.

"Someone must have worked themselves to death."

Imagining what had happened in Marcus's office, Enkrid asked.

Work did not get done just because orders were given. Beneath that were endless layers of administration, processing, and cleanup.

Kraiss nodded.

"Obviously. I heard the heavy infantry company commander collapsed two days ago. Even nobles who were decent with numbers and personnel were already close to being ground down."

Marcus's true specialty.

Neither Enkrid nor Kraiss knew it, but that bastard's specialty was grinding people into labor.

He used that specialty faithfully.

He fully unleashed the talent that had once earned him the nickname Millstone Marcus within his family.

The territory called Border Guard was changing in dazzling ways day by day.

It was surprising, but also the natural order.

People, Krona, and capable figures had come together, so this was what happened.

As Enkrid looked around that transformed market, there were truly a lot of people.

And in the middle of all those people, there was also a guy who shoved a knife straight into Enkrid's stomach.

Enkrid felt the blade slide in and immediately grabbed that wrist.

Esther opened one eye halfway.

In front of them was a hunched figure, bent low as if bowing.

He was an assassin.

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