WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator/Editor: Ryuu

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A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES

Chapter 3: A Day

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A day just like yesterday.

‘Was it a dream?’

It was too vivid to be a dream, wasn't it?

He was dumbfounded. Whether it was a dream or reality, he faced the battlefield after spending an entire day similar to yesterday.

On top of that, it was a melee. Fighting in a similar position made it feel like overlapping illusions reflexively.

‘Didn't this happen yesterday as well?’

He stopped mid-thought and shook his head.

It must have been a dream.

Was he lucky to have had a prophetic dream?

‘Is it right to consider having prophetic dreams lucky?’

He did not know. It's impossible to know now.

Enkrid was confused.

Especially when the oiled shield split.

"Damn, nearly got killed."

When Bell said that, it felt even more so.

"Bell, did your head split open and cause you to lose your brain?"

He spit out the words he reflexively remembered.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Bell scrambled to his feet. Enkrid looked at Bell and thought.

Bell is going to die soon.

Should he just watch it happen?

He watched.

It felt unreal, so he let it be.

A flash burst Bell's head open, his eyeball flying out and hitting Enkrid's chest again.

"If you lose focus, what are you planning to do?"

Rem saved him again.

"What?"

"Have you finally lost it?"

Rem twirled his finger around his ear. He could see the axe in his hand.

"Some bastard with the eyes of a hawk or feathers or something came to this battle, so I need to deal with him. Geez, you're so worrisome I feel like you might die any moment."

"Worry about yourself."

I snapped back reflexively, and Rem walked away with a puzzled shake of his head.

"Focus, will you? You never listen."

Muttering to himself, Rem left.

He stood on the battlefield, picking up an axe that had fallen to the ground in his left hand and holding a sword in his right. It felt uncomfortable.

And so, he endured.

An enemy soldier closed the distance in front of him. It happened in an instant— he sure knew how to use his feet. There was a fencing master who used to say something like that. Seven-tenths of fencing was in the feet, wasn't it?

As the blade came into view, Enkrid once again faced the moment of death.

In that fleeting moment, concentration shone, and he saw a point. The point shrank, then quickly grew larger. Enkrid watched it until the end until the point turned into a blade piercing through his neck.

"Ah."

No scream or groan came out. His throat was pierced. Only the sound of air escaping could be heard from his throat. Excruciating pain spread from his throat throughout his body. Enkrid clutched his throat and collapsed to the ground. Blood gushed out profusely.

"Mercy."

The enemy soldier watched for a moment then plunged the tip of his sword into his head.

Darkness came again.

And Enkrid heard it again.

Clang, clang, clang.

The sound of a ladle hitting a pot.

"I'd like to ask why your eyes look like that since morning."

Rem was next to him, holding his boots.

It was another day. The same day.

'Was it a dream?’

"Did you have a shitty dream or something?"

"Right, was it just a dream?"

"Ah, ugh, a bug."

Rem shook a bug off his boot, spat, and stomped on it.

It was the third time he saw this scene.

Enkrid didn't put on his boots or gear. He just sat there, blankly.

‘Is this supposed to be a dream?’

The day started over again.

Bell died, and Rem saved him.

Rem left to find an archer with a nickname related to a part of an eagle's body.

An enemy soldier, good with a sword, blocked his way.

"What are you?"

Enkrid asked.

The enemy didn't answer, he just thrust his sword. The thrusting was as admirable as ever each time he saw it.

Thump.

His heart was beating and his concentration increased. Enkrid could see the tip of the sword more clearly than before. He twisted his body to avoid it.

Creak!

The result wasn't great. The elegant thrust didn't pierce Enkrid's neck but tore a large gash beside it. A burning pain spread from his neck throughout his body. He fell to the ground again.

Blood poured out.

"Mercy."

The sword fell towards his head.

Clang, clang, clang!

"Ah!"

He woke up screaming.

The pain was real. Enkrid rubbed his neck.

"A nightmare? Did a witch take your virginity or something?"

Rem made a ridiculous joke.

"There's a bug in your boot."

Enkrid covered half his face with his hand and said.

The pain of dying was one thing but he couldn't fathom what was happening.

"What? How did you know?"

Rem dumped the bug from his boot onto the ground, spat, and stomped on it.

“I just know.”

“Are you a prophet?"

"Nah.”

He waved his hand as he spoke.

Enkrid was about to go out after getting ready but stopped.

"Rem."

"What's the matter?"

"My head hurts too much. Take care of your meals, and if someone looks for me, tell them I'm sick in the barracks."

“Sure, if you want to slack off that badly.”

Rem chuckled. He was a friend with a hearty laugh.

If this isn't a dream.

If it's something that repeats after death.

Is that possible? Can such a thing happen?

Enkrid needed time to think.

He went back into the barracks, took off his gear, and sat down. He thought and thought again. How could this happen?

‘Why is this happening?’

He remembered something and rummaged through his pockets. It wasn't there. The necklace he received from the village chief of the slash-and-burn farmers was gone.

'Is it because of that?’

A desire? A wish?

‘A blessing?’

No, can this be called a blessing?

It's just the day repeating.

Even if it's about blessings, or so-called Blessing Artifacts, Enkrid had heard about them, but never seen such a case first-hand.

‘Isn't it more like a curse rather than a blessing?’

Thinking, Enkrid stroked his neck.

It hurted terribly. It was damn painful every time he died. His head felt like it was about to explode with complex thoughts.

Skipping lunch, Rem came in with food.

"What's wrong? Are you really slacking off?"

He seemed to imply that couldn't be the case. Enkrid was known as a hard worker here.

"Yeah."

"Really?"

Enkrid nodded twice.

"Well, that's unusual. In that case, rest. There's a fight late in the afternoon, so rest well until then. I'll cover for you, so get yourself together."

Rem left.

Time passed. Enkrid’s thoughts couldn't be organized. This wasn't the type of thing that could be organized just by thinking about it.

Ahhh!

Shouts were heard. The ground shook. The battle had started. Enkrid had no intention of going out. If he went out, he’d die from that thrust.

And so, he tried to hold out.

But he couldn't do that forever. It wasn't right to turn away from the battlefield just because he was a disposable soldier feeling unwell.

"Everyone, get ready and head out! It's battle time!"

There was a sentinel patrolling inside the barracks. Enkrid equipped himself with his gear and went out.

He fought again.

This time, he fought far behind where he was yesterday. Neither Bell nor Rem were in sight as he endured.

Suddenly, the front lines were thrown into disarray. The enemy's movement was unusual. The ally forces were being pushed back.

Before he knew it, Enkrid was on the front lines.

And then, he encountered that guy again.

Was it a coincidence, or was it inevitable?

He did not know, but it was certain that wherever he went on the battlefield, he would either die or meet this guy.

So, it wasn't about 'why' anymore but 'how.'

How to survive, and not why they meet.

A thrust came.

The blade came flying.

‘What was the name of that technique?’

Rem had once told him to focus on the technique, saying that knowing just this would prevent you from easily dying on the battlefield.

He also said that even if you're trapped in a monster's den, you need to calmly catch your breath.

What Enkrid was trying now was something Rem had taught him. Something about the heart.

The name grazed his thoughts, it was almost within reach but not quite there.

This skill, whose name he couldn't even remember, shone once again. Enkrid realized he was holding his breath while watching the blade.

Thump.

His heart pounded. He saw the timing and angle at which the blade would pierce his neck.

He threw himself to the side and rolled on the ground in a rather unsightly manner, but he survived.

The joy was short-lived, though.

Thump!

A blow to the back of his head followed by excruciating pain occurred. His head felt numb. He didn't even realize he had fallen to the ground.

Another enemy soldier had swung his axe at his helmet from behind.

After getting hit, as he looked up dazedly,

"Mercy."

The bastard with the thrust plunged his blade into him again.

Thud.

Clang, clang, clang!

His eyes opened once again.

The day repeated itself again.

‘Don't think about it.’

Whether the necklace was a blessing or a curse, don't think about it. Don't think about what's happening either.

There are only two things to think about right now.

Surviving on the battlefield.

And doing whatever it takes for that.

"There's a bug in your boot."

"Huh? A prophet?"

"What was that thing? The one you tried to teach me before."

Blink, blink.

Rem blinked and then said,

"Heart of the Beast?"

That's right. That was the name.

Heart of the Beast.

How could a mere human heart keep one's eyes wide open on a battlefield where spears, swords, and axes fly?

If you harbor the Heart of the Beast, you can do it, so do it.

I recalled what Rem had said.

"Teach me again."

"Huh?"

Rem was dumbfounded.

He understood Rem.

Once, he had desperately wanted to learn, and charmed by his enthusiasm, Rem had eagerly agreed to teach.

In the end, Enkrid learned nothing, and Rem taught nothing. Not closing your eyes in the blink of a moment was the basis of training. Keeping your eyes open until the brink of death wasn't something that could be done with ordinary courage.

It wasn't just about keeping your eyes open.

In his view, Rem's skills were better than those of an average first-rate mercenary.

The essence of his training was to watch and dodge the axe until it almost split his skull.

"Let's do it, training."

Passion ignited in Enkrid's eyes. A flame was kindled in his heart.

‘Do we really need to distinguish between a blessing and a curse?’

He knew he had no talent. And time was fair to everyone.

Therefore, a fool cannot beat a genius.

But what if time wasn't fair?

Even if it's a curse, it was a rope. A rope to move forward.

"Alright. I've been feeling like a dog who lost its bone lately, but seeing you so energetic today gives me strength too."

Rem stood up and said,

"Let's start right after breakfast."

"Well, then."

After eating breakfast and washing the dishes, and exchanging ridiculous words about dreams of being a knight, Rem laughed at it.

And then it was time for the lesson.

“Did you forget the training method?"

"Not at all."

It was so impressive that Enkrid even had nightmares because of Rem's training. Nightmares about that damn axe splitting his neck.

"Let's go."

The essence of the training was simple.

When the axe aimed to behead, keep your eyes wide open and dodge. If Rem made a mistake, Enkrid would die.

Originally, the fear prevented him from doing it properly. But now, the situation was a bit different.

"Even if I die, it's just clang, clang, clang again."

It was time to lose all fear. The concentration he learned from the first death, awakening the Heart of the Beast.

Enkrid's heart began to beat. The startled heartbeat calmed down. A beast doesn't easily get startled. The slowed heartbeat brought calmness.

Calmness, the core of the Heart of the Beast. A calm mind captures the trajectory of the axe blade. Training to control the body, he had been doing it non-stop.

Watching the trajectory and dodging wasn't difficult.

The axe blade sliced through the air. Enkrid timed it, stepped back with his right foot and pulled his body back.

The axe passed in front of him.

"......Did you practice secretly?"

Rem asked.

"A little."

"Good, good. But your timing was a bit early just now. You have to dodge at the last moment."

It was training to thicken the skin of the heart.

Rem swung the axe.

Enkrid waited until the timing when the axe seemed about to slice his neck and then dodged.

"Wow, even in our tribe, only a few could learn and do this. It's amazing."

The morning training ended. Rem patted Enkrid's shoulder.

"Well done. With this level, you can handle the clumsy ones in real combat."

"What about those who are not clumsy?"

"What do you mean?”

"What would happen if I met such a person?"

"Are you asking because you don't know?"

Seeing Enkrid stare, Rem continued. His eyes seemed to say, "Why are you like this today?"

"Run away."

Yes, escape.

It's madness to confront a stronger opponent on the battlefield head-on. Enkrid had survived so far because he was observant and knew his place.

And now,

"Wouldn't it be better to practice against a not-so-clumsy opponent? Like this?"

"If you train like that, even a hundred lives wouldn't be enough."

Rem chuckled. Hearing his laughter, Enkrid thought,

It felt like he just gained hundreds of lives.

Whether it's a blessing or a curse.

‘If it can be used, use it all.’

That's how Enkrid had lived until now. Having lived that way, that was the plan even now.

To face that thrust.

That was the plan. Wasn't it a good training partner? The pain of death was terrible, but the payoff was just as great.

Enkrid felt the joy of growth for the first time in years.

A satisfaction that filled his heart to the brim.

A sense of fulfillment incomparable even to drugs.

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