WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES

Chapter 318: I Should At Least Say Everyone Worked Hard.

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When he got up, his head spun.

He had been lying down too long.

He could have staggered, but he straightened himself almost immediately.

His senses, honed through countless repetitions of today, corrected the subtle differences from normal and helped him adjust.

‘Not bad.’

The sea inside him felt vivid again.

Standing there, he turned his head left and right. Ragna was eating porridge one-handed, bandages wrapped around one shoulder and his torso.

After swallowing, Ragna looked Enkrid over from head to toe.

Sinar did the same.

They were thinking the same thing.

They had not noticed while he was lying down, but now that he was up, something about him seemed different.

That was only natural.

Across all those repeated todays, Enkrid had not learned only how to dodge.

Still, there was no reason to question him right away.

Ragna simply looked forward to sparring.

That unusual drive in him was still there.

“Tastes good?”

Enkrid asked.

Ragna nodded.

No one fed him by hand, but a friend who came with that soldier, Helma or whatever, had cooked the porridge.

It tasted different from a normal meal.

This time, eel meat had been flaked into it.

Enkrid began loosening up, bit by bit.

Two days had passed.

Ragna also pushed himself upright.

Was this not his chance to laze around to his heart’s content?

Madman Company members were hard to read, so Enkrid did not bother trying to pry into what they were thinking.

“Can you move?”

“It was only a minor sprain to begin with.”

If a minor sprain put him in bed for three days, then a fracture would kill him.

Obviously.

Enkrid did not say that out loud.

They were all like this anyway.

Would Rem, Ragna, Jaxon, or Audin be any different?

No point arguing with people who would not change.

Instead of talking, Enkrid moved.

He went through movements from the Isolation Technique that helped recovery.

He felt each muscle, stretched his arms, and slowly raised his body heat.

He stimulated uninjured areas to speed up circulation.

Even in winter, faint steam began rising from his body.

“A cold?
Move and raise your body heat.
A fracture?
Move and raise your body heat.
A laceration?
Move and raise your body heat.”

That was Audin’s way of handling injuries.

Even Rem, listening from the side, snorted at how absurd it sounded, but strictly speaking, it was not wrong.

At least for someone who had built their body through the Isolation Technique, some of it was possible.

The Isolation Technique improved basic physical ability.

A body trained that way circulated blood quickly through the whole body, even at rest.

Blood circulation aided wound healing, so this method stimulated that.

On top of that, improved muscle and strength boosted recovery, and Enkrid had already proven that with his own body.

Even so, this was fast.

Fast enough that the words monstrous recovery came naturally.

Of course, Esther, asleep nearby with her head on her forepaw, also played a part.

She slept in Enkrid’s arms and stimulated his regeneration.

It was a minor trick, not even worthy of being called a spell.

With those extra factors in play, Sinar had every reason to be surprised.

“You really do have a strange body.”

Sinar sat to one side and gave her impression.

She sat in a chair inside the tent.

One knee was raised, her arm looped around it.

Enkrid nodded like it was nothing.

His body heat had risen, so he wore only a short-sleeved shirt, and Sinar’s gaze moved over him.

“I guess I do.”

Eat, sleep, wake, recover.

Review the battle while everyone watched.

For Enkrid, that was daily life.

Even having everyone gathered like this did not feel awkward.

The medical tent was quite large.

It was big enough to hold around twenty grown men.

A large brazier stood in the center, and Esther slept curled up beneath it.

Ragna sat nearby, and Enkrid moved through his exercises near the brazier.

Sinar was by the entrance.

Further inside, Dunbakel nodded off.

Dunbakel also had quite a few minor cuts, but nothing serious.

Later, he heard that the moment Dunbakel learned he had fallen into a trap, Dunbakel charged out first.

Like a madman, straight to the front lines.

The Beastfolk who once lived as a Black Blade Bandits underling had, before anyone noticed, become one of the unit.

Why was that?

Enkrid sometimes found himself wondering.

Why were these people gathering around him?

Kraiss, the soldier nicknamed Big Eyes, sat in a chair about two steps from the brazier.

“This was my mistake.”

He said it out of nowhere.

Enkrid stopped moving and asked back.

“What was?”

“I failed to predict what would happen, and it got dangerous.”

The sentence was missing context, but Enkrid understood enough.

This was Big Eyes, always straining to read enemy intent.

“Predicting that would have been the strange part.”

Enkrid meant it.

The enemy had acted like lunatics.

At that, Kraiss turned toward Enkrid.

Strong emotion sat in his eyes.

Confusion mixed with disbelief.

“Even after you almost died because of it?”

Kraiss looked straight into Enkrid’s eyes.

How could there be not even a shred of resentment there?

Why were those eyes always so direct?

Kraiss could not understand.

How could someone be like that?

“I lived.
I’m not a ghost.”

He had not died.

That was enough.

“Captain, you really are...”

Dark feelings rose in Kraiss for a moment, then he buried them.

Right, what was the point of arguing?

It was not like he did not already know what kind of person his captain was.

‘What is with him?’

Look, he was asking that with his eyes even now.

He had gone to death’s door and still showed no resentment.

It had happened while pushing into enemy lines at Kraiss’s request, and still he did not ask who was responsible.

Ragna, beside them, cared just as little as Enkrid did.

Even when Enkrid asked with his eyes, Ragna only looked back as if to say, asking what?

“Ah, it’s fine.
Forget it.”

Kraiss shook off the leftover emotion.

No point asking.

That man would not care anyway, and if Kraiss cared, only he would lose out.

No Krona was on the line, but he hated losses with a passion, so it was better to throw it away.

Through that rational process, Kraiss steadied himself.

Then what?

Review, just as his captain had taught him.

He heard the full sequence of how Enkrid escaped danger, heard everything about Ragna too, and checked enemy movement as well.

The conclusion was clear.

Kraiss had been thoroughly played.

He was no great strategist, so how could he have predicted all of it?

Still, his captain had nearly died because of this.

That same man had once saved Kraiss’s life, and Kraiss had nearly gotten him killed.

Even setting aside the captain’s almost absurd innocence, it sent chills down his spine.

‘Predicting a battlefield.’

That carried risk on that scale.

This time, he learned it the hard way.

He also learned that anything could happen on a battlefield.

The enemy’s trick gave him chills all over again.

The more he thought about it, the more insane it seemed.

‘If they send out a group of junior knights, we’ll be on guard.’

So they used a mass of regular soldiers to catch a small elite unit instead?

That was pure madness.

Sacrifice a thousand soldiers to catch one man?

And not even a knight?

No, they could do it.

He should have predicted it.

Kraiss judged that this was his job.

But he failed.

Why?

Because he lacked experience.

No, he could not just dismiss it as lack of experience.

Something like this could happen again.

Then what should he do?

He had to widen the scope of his thinking.

He could not put limits on what he was willing to imagine.

He had to picture the most grotesque thing the enemy could possibly do.

‘Anything except a dragon flying over our heads!’

That was not possibility, that was escapist delusion.

It was not Enkrid’s intent, but Kraiss reflected all the same.

Most of all, seeing a captain stay this steady even with his own life at stake left a deep mark on him.

‘Never again.’

He would not make the same mistake.

After organizing his thoughts, he said something pointless.

“We should just open a salon.”

No matter how many times he said it, Enkrid would never take it seriously.

“If you open one, I’ll drop by.”

Yeah, right.

He would just be swinging a sword at that hour.

How could he toss out promises he might not keep so easily?

Because he knew they could not open a salon right now.

Well, if they really did, Enkrid probably would stop by for a bit.

He kept words he said himself.

That was their captain.

Still, he might start sword training inside the salon.

‘The worst.
Absolutely the worst.’

His imagination started branching out, so he forced himself to stop.

Enkrid, bent at the waist and holding his toes, watched Kraiss’s expression change from moment to moment.

It was entertaining.

Kraiss ended the train of thought and shook his head.

Regret was regret, but once you learned what you had to learn, you moved forward.

He had learned that lesson in childhood.

So he did.

No one comforted him, but he brushed it off.

What could he do now about a mistake already made?

‘Did I even do anything at all?’

Actually, he had done a lot.

Without Kraiss, Enkrid would have fallen into Abnaier’s trap two or three layers deep.

Esther had done her part too.

By killing the mage Galaf, she removed the means that could have blocked Enkrid’s retreat.

Ragna’s presence had helped as well.

What had been the original role of the junior knight Ragna killed?

Sinar and Dunbakel had also made major contributions.

Without them, one side might have been pushed back in the first clash.

The enemy force striking the rear might have become a real threat to the Border Guard rather than a mere feint.

That would have damaged the supply route.

Their retreat route could have been cut too.

The whole battle could have twisted in a bad direction.

The people before his eyes had held this battlefield together.

Enkrid believed that with all his heart.

If there were words in the heart that should not be hidden or held back, they were words like these.

Enkrid stopped moving.

He knew how to put sincerity and composure into his words.

So he did.

He straightened up.

He lowered his hands, looked around, and gathered everyone’s gaze.

Then he spoke.

“I should at least tell all of you that you worked hard.”

Ragna, who had been spooning porridge, stopped. Kraiss blinked. Dunbakel lifted her drowsy head.

From near the tent entrance, Sinar stared at Enkrid and spoke.

“You say things like that without even blushing.
No wonder they call you irresistible. Is that it?”

She lowered the knee she had raised and laced her fingers in front of her chest as she spoke.

“That’s not what I meant.”

He pushed back against her elf-style joke.

“Weren’t you the one who suffered the most, Captain?”

Kraiss said, blinking.

His tone was incredulous.

Esther woke, looked at Enkrid for a moment, then tapped the floor with her forepaw.

As if saying, not at all.

Ragna stared at Enkrid and said, “I fought for myself.”

Then he went back to eating.

Dunbakel nodded in agreement.

“Right, I worked hard too.”

An amusing elf, human, Beastfolk, and mage.

Enkrid genuinely thought so.

“Where did Jaxon go?”

Kraiss asked.

“He said he had somewhere to go.”

“Where?”

“No idea.”

“You let him go without knowing?”

“Should I not?”

Well, fair enough. People like that would not be stopped even if you tried.

Ever since the Troublemaker Squad days, Enkrid’s attitude had always been consistent.

Do what each of you has to do.

I will not interfere for no reason.

Ragna had no interest at all.

Why would he care whether that sly wildcat was around or not?

Still seated, he sank into thought.

He was going over what he had gained.

The flame of motivation still had not gone out.

Sinar watched Enkrid, and Dunbakel set her scimitar to a whetstone.

Scrape, scrape.

After sprinkling a little water from her canteen, she pressed the blade to the stone and drew it.

She was sharpening the scimitar’s edge.

Her hands knew how to care for a weapon, like a former mercenary’s should.

Kraiss, still seated, thought it was almost incredible how these strange people had gathered together so well.

Each of them was spending time in their own way.

Then, as Enkrid started moving again to build heat.

Riiip.

They heard canvas tear.

Sinar reacted first.

Ting.

Without warning, she drew Naidhl.

She was already on her feet.

Esther opened her eyes.

Ragna gripped his spoon like a sword.

“Uh, yeah, seems right. Black hair, blue eyes, a pretty decent face.”

Cold wind came through the torn canvas.

That voice came in with the wind.

Whoosh.

The brazier fire surged, and the shadows shook.

It was already past evening, after sunset had ended.

Blue moonlight from outside mixed with the red light from the brazier.

Someone stood where those lights met.

“Sorry about this.”

Then he spoke.

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