WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES

Chapter 305: Eat, Drink, and Rest

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When he asked what kind of meat this was, the kind that melted in his mouth,

"It’s eel."

Not a snake, she said, but a long freshwater fish.

A woman soldier said it while roughly peeling the skin with a short knife.

Everyone worked quickly. They worked in sync, too.

"When we head back to the city this time, I’m thinking of hauling fish from the river to here and selling it. What do you think?"

A soldier brushing sauce on the eel asked. Enkrid quietly gave a thumbs-up.

As he raised his thumb, he pictured the trade route between the river and this place.

If the road stayed in good shape, it would be two days by wagon.

If they could get a Spell Object that gave off cold air even in midsummer, freshness would not be an issue either.

If artifacts were ancient relics, Spell Objects were magic tools made and sold by places like mage guilds.

Some of them maintained a steady chill.

That was how big cities ate things like shaved ice even in peak summer.

Of course, they were insanely expensive, so you rarely saw them in a backwater like Border Guard. But if trade developed further, that might change.

He already knew goods like silk were coming in.

Without the war, things would have grown even faster, but that could not be helped.

"This is my first time tasting anything like this."

Enkrid knew how to speak with genuine sincerity.

Sauce was smeared around his mouth, but it did not dull what he felt. If anything, it doubled it.

The soldier brushing sauce on the grilled eel grinned. The soldier was not exactly pleasant-looking, but the smile was honest.

Pure joy showed through. She looked happy just to see someone eating her food.

"Think it’ll sell?"

"Big time."

"Even just hearing that feels good."

"Hey, when that day comes, you’re taking me too, right?"

The soldier grilling eel nearby said it. Soot smudged the soldier's face, and somehow it suited them.

Neither of them looked very old.

"Helma! You done grilling?"

A few soldiers approached from one side, shouting. The woman soldier who had been staring at Enkrid was named Helma.

"Yeah. You catch anything?"

Helma answered without even looking back.

From the bits of conversation he caught, they had cleared a route to the Pen-Hanil River, so whenever they got bored, they went there and brought something back.

One of the arriving soldiers set down a thick pouch.

Thin chips of ice came rattling off the leather bag, where a skin of ice had formed in the cold.

"What is it?"

"Crayfish."

When they opened the pouch, clawed crustaceans crawled out.

The soldier making sauce ran her tongue across her lips and said,

"Those are good even plain grilled."

Enkrid blended right in with them. He ate and enjoyed himself as if he had always belonged there.

"Want a sip?"

"Sure."

Helma offered him liquor. It was whiskey with a musty smell.

"It’s not top-shelf, but it’s not bad, right?"

It was perfect for warming up in the cold.

The soldier with a knack for cooking grilled the crayfish, split the heads, and spread the innards over the meat like sauce.

"Eat it like this and it’ll blow your mind."

He tried it.

It almost did. No fishy smell, just flavor bursting everywhere.

A clean sweetness wrapped his tongue and hit his brain like a hammer.

"You need to open a restaurant."

Enkrid said it twice.

Next came trout. The guts had already been cleaned by the river, so all they had to do was grill it. A little salt and pepper turned it into another delicacy.

"So where are you from?"

A different woman soldier asked, not Helma. There were women soldiers here and there in the unit, which was normal.

Naurillia strongly encouraged women to serve.

Born a serf’s daughter? Want to change your life? Throw yourself into the military.

The Women’s Military Service System.

It was Naurillia’s third military policy, after the soldier rank system and the soldier-mercenary system.

It had worked well, so women soldiers were easy to find.

"Reinforcements."

"From Border Guard?"

"Yeah."

"How is it there? Is your commander really that handsome? I keep hearing that rumor. Better-looking than you? Hm?"

Enkrid currently had a beard. More precisely, he had not had time to shave. It should have made him look scruffy, but it could not fully hide his features.

Helma kept sneaking glances at him.

"No, I’m better-looking."

Enkrid brushed it off with a joke.

Several soldiers burst out laughing.

A few shot him jealous looks.

A few others liked how easygoing he was.

"Try not to stand out too much, yeah?"

Several soldiers said things like that. Envy, jealousy, mixed feelings.

"Yeah. Sure."

Enkrid accepted it calmly.

What was the point of fighting over it?

If it were Rem, he would have cracked heads first. But Enkrid was not Rem.

After eating and drinking, he returned to the barracks assigned to him and saw Esther sitting quietly, waiting.

There was a rumor that a few soldiers had gone lovesick just from seeing her.

With silky black hair hanging loose and thick black fur draped around her, the mage’s appearance, together with Sinar’s, was more than enough to draw every nearby soldier’s eye.

Was that why she had not gone outside?

Probably not. Esther had never cared much about people around her in the first place.

The mage looked at Enkrid and spoke.

Her flat tone was bluntness itself.

"I need to go somewhere for a bit."

"All right."

Enkrid had no reason to stop her.

Esther left just like that. At dawn the next day, Kraiss asked with bloodshot eyes,

"Do you not think spells or magic could help us?"

Why did you just let Esther go, that was what he meant. She was in human form now, so she could be useful.

Enkrid had thought about that too.

"No."

"Why not?"

"If she could do something, she would have stepped in long ago."

Kraiss normally would have noticed it himself. Esther had been staying in human form for long stretches.

If she could do anything with spells, she would have done it already.

But she had not. That meant there was a reason.

Enkrid knew that, so he let her go. He figured she had something to do.

He also did not think he needed her right now.

If she wanted to help, that was one thing. If he forced her, it might do more harm than good.

It was not a thought, but a feeling.

Enkrid had simply trusted his intuition.

"Why are you only smart at times like this?"

Kraiss grumbled. It was his way of admitting Enkrid was right.

After that, Enkrid warmed up as usual and started training.

Isolation Technique, breaking things down to tighten, stretch, and torment each muscle one by one, then he swung his sword.

This time he had killed Lykanos and taken his sword.

Now there were two swords hanging at his left hip.

"Isn’t that uncomfortable?"

Sinar, who had come to watch since morning, asked.

"It’s fine once you get used to it, and lighter than I expected."

"Yeah?"

"Light spar?"

"Not bad."

Clang.

Sinar’s Leaf Blade was flexible, smooth, and fast.

She balanced on her toes, bounced in, and swung. The attacks looked light, but they were hard to redirect cleanly.

"Are you preparing for my techniques?"

"You catch on fast, fiance."

Whenever he tried to flow with her strike and cast it off, she was already in and out.

Enkrid shifted to a heavy-sword style. He swung with weight and cut with force, then added speed.

It was not the five swings in one step that Ragna had shown him before.

But Enkrid managed two strikes in one step.

After watching, studying, and thinking it over, he could imitate it.

"Nice."

Sinar admired it. Her Leaf Blade shifted too, from quick chopping cuts into a receiving flowing sword.

Her style was ever-changing. The elf’s sword was sharp and soft at once.

Enkrid watched that too and stored it away.

If he reviewed it later, there would be something to learn.

Something would remain.

His right arm was not fully healed yet, but this was not a life-and-death spar.

Neither of them was taking it that seriously.

After they crossed blades for a while, Sinar wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead and asked,

"Do you know that sword’s name?"

"It has a name?"

He was holding the sword Lykanos had used in his left hand.

Enkrid ran his eyes over it.

From hilt to spine to tip, the shape was almost awl-like.

The blade was silver. The grip was wrapped in something rough, but it was not uncomfortable.

It felt fine without extra leather, and when he gripped it, it locked neatly into his palm, like a custom-made light sword.

So he already knew it was no ordinary item.

There was also a patterned marking carved near the grip, something like systematic letters.

Maybe it was not secret, because Sinar continued calmly.

"It’s a sword made by the elves. Its name is Spark."

"Is it famous?"

"In its own way."

He had already figured it was not ordinary.

Hard and light.

So it was not made from normal iron.

Spark was forged by a famous elven craftsman.

There were two kinds of elf swords, Naidhl and Needle, and this was a named sword from the Needle line.

Naming a weapon meant confidence in it.

He had heard it was lost ten years ago, and now it had turned up here.

Light, durable, specialized for thrusting.

Even among Needles, it was top class.

How many swords were lost back then again?

The craftsman who made Spark had made several others too, and all of them were lost in one incident.

People called it an incident, but in truth they were lost because of a worthless bloodline.

Patience, Destruction, Spark.

There were probably a few more.

She could not remember all of them. If she went to an elf city, they were probably recorded clearly as items to recover, along with records about those vicious human thieves.

An elf swordsman had died in an ambush, and all of them were lost.

That was what happened when swords were given to someone unqualified and unskilled.

It should never have happened, but it did.

If someone qualified carried them, that solved it.

So in her eyes, it was only natural for Enkrid to carry Spark.

"It sounds like a famous sword. Is there any issue, like having to return it?"

"If you do not look closely, even elves cannot tell. Right under the guard, it says Spark in the elf language, so just cover that and you’ll be fine."

Sinar said that and turned away. Enkrid understood exactly.

Use it, just hide it well.

That was what he planned to do. He had picked up a good sword. No need to return it on purpose.

Enkrid had his own greed for swords.

After sweating through a round with Sinar, he got hungry again.

He washed up and wandered around inside the camp, which was laid out almost like a village.

There was no forge, but he saw people grilling things and patching cloth here and there.

Everyone looked busy.

This time he brought Ragna and Dunbakel too. They had been watching the spar in silence. Neither seemed to have anything else to do.

"Coming with me?"

"Sure."

"I thought you ate something yesterday. The smell was all over you."

Dunbakel was beastfolk. Her sense of smell was sharp and sensitive, and she said she personally enjoyed good food.

"Come on."

Enkrid found a spot again and picked at this and that.

He did not reveal exactly who he was.

He had not said anything in advance, but after seeing how Enkrid interacted with the soldiers, Dunbakel quickly made up a story that she was one of the reinforcements too.

"Who made this? This is incredible."

"I did."

"Yeah, good work, kid."

Without thinking, Dunbakel patted the soldier on the head, and the young soldier’s cheeks flushed for a moment.

A few soldiers tossed questions at Ragna too, but he stayed silent.

He looked deep in thought, or like he was searching for something.

The soldiers kept a cautious distance from him.

"Why do they look like people with something wrong with them?"

One soldier hit the mark exactly, but no one paid attention.

Enkrid heard it and understood.

He was fine, but his unit members did look lacking in some ways.

"Hey, I told you not to stand out. Why the hell are you bringing weird friends and stirring shit up?"

One soldier turned prickly, but Enkrid let it pass, calm as ever.

"Yeah, I’ll be careful."

"This bastard, all talk..."

"Hey, stop."

"No, this bastard..."

"I said stop."

"Damn."

"Quit acting like idiots."

They hated that he said things and then did whatever he wanted anyway, but they could not openly start trouble.

The nearby soldiers held them back.

The few who had been fuming shut their mouths too.

"Watch yourself."

That was all they said.

Seeing that, Enkrid thought discipline here was solid.

It was not real trouble yet, but they had reason enough to jump him out of spite.

If they had, he would have had no choice but to rough that soldier up for a moment, like Rem would.

"Tch."

As he smacked his lips, Helma looked at Enkrid strangely.

Enkrid ignored it easily and went back to eating and hanging around.

Grilled trout, grilled crayfish, and sauced grilled eel made even Ragna turn to look at the soldier who had cooked them.

The sparkle in his eyes was interesting.

Even that picky eater reacted this way, so this was the real deal.

"This sauce is our family secret. This is the key."

That soldier’s sauce really did feel like a secret recipe. He kept checking Dunbakel’s reaction.

Her tastes were unusual.

Enkrid did only minimal training, then ate, drank, and rested.

His body still had not fully recovered.

If the rear-line soldiers were busy making things and cooking food, the mood at the front side of the camp was different, and a few soldiers there stood out.

Garrett’s battalion had few combat-ready troops to begin with, and this group was the most exceptional among them.

They were the plains reconnaissance unit, the Green Pearl Rangers.

"Heading out on recon?"

"Who are you? What unit?"

He was clearly on their side, but reconnaissance itself was dangerous. They could not answer just because an unfamiliar face walked up and asked. A few soldiers gave him wary looks.

"I came as reinforcement."

Enkrid said it while showing his shoulder insignia.

It bore Border Guard’s high watchtower emblem.

"I don’t think that’s your business."

One soldier said it, someone who, by Naurillia’s soldier rank system, was at least elite class.

He was short, but his body looked quick.

Enkrid scanned the man’s speed, light gear, and his natural center of balance.

Take the line with footwork, finish with thrusts.

A stiletto hung at his waist.

What Enkrid had learned through Isolation Technique, and what he had learned through Audin.

He looked at the man’s conditioning and reached that conclusion.

"Eat."

Enkrid pulled out seasoned jerky and tossed it over. The elite soldier caught it and asked, suspicion still in his eyes,

"What is this?"

"Try it. It’s good."

The soldier tore off an end, tasted it, then pulled the jerky apart.

"Got bread? Dip it."

Enkrid handed marmalade to the soldier next to him too.

It was a Border Guard specialty. If this tasted bad to someone, their tongue was broken.

They were not short on supplies, but they were not abundant either.

Guarding a narrow region made hunting difficult, and monsters caused trouble now and then, so they also had to clear nearby monsters regularly.

Aside from some archers guarding the towers, this unit’s main force was the Rangers.

They did not have cavalry at all.

"This is good."

One recon member muttered. The man who looked like the recon captain, that elite-level soldier, snorted.

"I don’t know why you’re doing this, but did you report to your direct superior before wandering around?"

He had not. Then he could do it now.

Enkrid reported to his superior. In other words, he reported to himself in his head, got the answer, then replied.

"You work hard, so I’m giving it to you. Just eat."

"You’re a weird one."

After that, Enkrid kept circling the camp, focused on eating and resting.

Just by looking around, he could tell a lot.

They had clustered watchtowers into a narrow area.

A narrow defense zone was easier to hold, but it was also more vulnerable to flanking attacks. Still, tradeoffs were tradeoffs.

On Enkrid’s fourth day after arriving, near sundown, a messenger came sprinting into camp.

Everyone turned to look at him.

"The enemy has reached our doorstep!"

The messenger’s report spread out from the command tent.

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