A Knight who Eternally Regresses - Chapter 326

WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES

Chapter 326: It Was an Honor.

= = =

It was an honor.

Enkrid was half-dead from taking the knight’s sword head-on, but after two days in bed, he finally felt a little better.

His monstrous recovery pulled through again.

Of course, he was still not in perfect condition.

‘I still can’t put strength into my grip.’

Maybe it was lucky his shoulder had dislocated right after he took the blow.

If he had held on any longer, the strain would have spread from his forearm through his whole arm.

He still was not in great shape, but he could not skip the party.

No, even if he rested, the more accurate way to put it was that he could not just lie still.

The people around him would not allow it.

“Captain!”

Starting with Helma, soldiers who knew him came one after another to the tent where Enkrid was lying.

“Want a bite of eel?”

Even the soldier doing the cooking came.

“You were amazing.”

A commander from the Reconnaissance Team came too.

There were also plenty of soldiers who used to run their mouths for no reason.

Some looked awkward, but they showed up anyway.

“It was an honor to fight beside you.”

They all said it together.

Enkrid stared at them in silence.

They had come in excited, but when Enkrid said nothing, every one of them fell quiet.

They could not even move their lips.

Silence filled the tent.

Cold winter wind slipped in through the entrance and left a sharp chill behind.

A few soldiers got goosebumps.

‘Did I run my mouth too much back then?’

‘Yeah, probably.’

The soldiers started watching his expression.

“Uh, Captain?”

Helma finally spoke when it became too much.

Enkrid looked at Helma without a trace of a smile.

He did not need to organize his thoughts.

He was only going to say what he always thought anyway.

Still, he wanted to look at each of their faces first.

Not empty words tossed into the air, but words with true sincerity.

Look straight at the person, recognize exactly who they are, then speak.

He had learned that from a guy named Crang.

So Enkrid did exactly that.

He acted on what he had learned.

To them, it felt like a cutting winter wind, but Enkrid believed something mattered more than that: putting true sincerity into his words.

“I feel the same.”

Enkrid finally spoke.

Had he called it an honor because he had taken the knight’s sword?

For him, fighting alongside these men was similar to that, no, an even greater honor.

Why would it not be?

They were allies who had taken up spears to protect their families, their friends, and their lives.

Some of them might have picked up spears for a few Krona, sure, but were they truly different?

In the end, one thing did not change: they fought for the comrades beside them.

There was a reason the word camaraderie existed.

That was why they were the same.

These were men who risked their lives scouting enemy territory.

Men who had become the army’s eyes and hands.

Without them, he would not have been able to fight as he did now.

So how could this not be an honor?

For the same reason, he had no need to hide his respect for them, so he simply opened his mouth and said what had to be said.

“It was an honor.”

Enkrid finished what he had started.

After a short silence, one of the soldiers smacked his own head.

The thwack rang out brightly.

“...Ah, shit, I’m an idiot.”

The soldier who hit himself muttered under his breath.

He was one of the ones who had criticized Enkrid the most.

Helma saw it and burst out laughing.

The soldier looked at laughing Helma and said with a solemn face, “Get out of here. If it’s the Captain, I permit it!”

“What the hell are you saying, idiot,” Helma said.

She grabbed the soldier by the neck and tucked him under her arm.

He coughed and choked, but did not ask her to let go.

Still, was it really right for him to call Enkrid Captain while ignoring his own commander?

When Enkrid asked if that was fine, a middle-aged man beside him raised a wine bottle and said he had brought good liquor.

“It’s fine.
The Captain is the Captain!”

From what Enkrid heard, this man was the officer in charge of that troop and its commander.

And he was the first one stepping up to say it.

And that was not the end.

Then Nurat came.

“Is the Captain okay?”

Enkrid heard her whispering to Kraiss, as if they had suddenly become close.

Nurat was Battalion Commander Garrett’s direct guard and lieutenant.

In other words, she should have called Enkrid something like company commander.

Yet she too called him Captain right away.

After listening for a while, Enkrid roughly understood what was going on.

“Hey, Captain, tell us some stories.
I’m dying to hear what you’ve done so far.”

Even Garrett was talking like that.

From the first day on the battlefield, Enkrid had charged alone into enemy lines and started swinging his sword.

That had tilted the battle from day one.

There had been disappearances and all kinds of incidents after that, but what was the most shocking image burned into every soldier’s mind?

One man’s back.

The sword that one man swung.

The momentum created by a man named Enkrid.

“Captain’s Blade!”

Someone who saw him fight gave him that strange nickname, so everyone started saying Captain, Captain.

Then, thanks to the medic who fixed his dislocated shoulder, an even stranger nickname started going around.

“They also call you the Blade of Patience.”

Kraiss naturally had sharp ears.

That was what he said after hearing it.

For a name given because he endured pain insanely well, it sounded far too cool.

In truth, more than those nicknames, Madman Company Commander spread much more, but nicknames faded quickly anyway.

The victory party lasted two days.

Enkrid recovered his overworked body and learned firsthand how important rest was, and he committed to it.

In short, he ate, drank, and rested.

“Eel!”

“Trout!”

All kinds of seafood, whole young-pig barbecue, wine, and even expensive whiskey made the rounds.

“To Captain’s Blade!”

“Let’s eat till we die!”

Garrett held his liquor better than expected.

Enkrid had never lost in drinking capacity either, but Garrett could really drink.

He downed three or four bottles of hard liquor by himself, then sang in a clear voice.

Maybe this was not the first time, because a few soldiers tossed chants between lines like a chorus.

“Ura!”

When the world calls to us!

“Ura!”

They say we sell our swords for gold coins!

“Ura!”

So we sell our swords for gold coins!

“Ura!”

We are mercenaries!

“Ura!”

Selling our swords for gold coins!

“Ura!”

Mercenaries who stake our lives on loyalty!

Enkrid had heard that song while wandering the continent.

Still, this was the first time he had heard it sung so cleanly.

Garrett’s voice sounded inborn.

If it were swordsmanship, it was a straight yet supple sword.

His voice burst out when needed, then wrapped around everything softly in the next moment.

Between the soldiers shouting Ura, Garrett finished the song, walked over to Enkrid, and said, “I already made a song for you too.”

That made Enkrid tilt his head.

A song for me?

“I’ll sing it for you later,” Garrett said.

He patted his belly and laughed.

He had likable looks, and his personality matched.

He was genuinely a decent man.

Marcus had not placed him here for nothing.

Come to think of it, Graham, the lord of Border Guard and battalion commander, had also looked like a man who never worried about betrayal.

Kraiss had been the one worrying then.

Enkrid was once again struck by how pointless that worry had been.

“Yeah, then I’ll hear it later.”

He had already had a few drinks, they had won, and he had gained new insight and lessons.

He had taken the knight’s sword and spoken of honor.

Now he was celebrating victory with people he could call comrades.

That, too, was enjoyable.

A few soldiers watching him whispered that, in the end, a man was still a man.

Of course, a man. What else, a monster?

“You guys don’t get it, huh? The Captain parties and drinks like this, then tomorrow morning he trains right away.
I can bet on it.
He’ll do dawn training again.
Because he’s insane!”

Kraiss, maybe pleasantly drunk, shouted loudly.

While talking, he even slapped between his legs with his palm.

It was a joke, but he put his manhood on the line in a bet.

“Really?”

“If you don’t believe me, bet.”

It flowed naturally.

Kraiss scraped together copper and silver coins from some soldiers.

Enkrid tuned out after the first few lines.

Kraiss’s little schemes were always obvious.

There was no reason to pay attention.

His eyes met Ragna, who was drinking on one side.

Ragna only gave a light nod, and Enkrid raised his cup in return.

‘Thanks.’

He had said it to the Boatman, but it was something he wanted to say to everyone, including Ragna.

He had created the Crushing Sword.

If Ragna had not been there in that process?

He would have found a way and kept moving somehow.

That was what Enkrid would have done.

But it was also true that Ragna’s presence had shortened that time.

No, now he knew he needed that bastard around.

To the point that if Ragna said he was leaving, Enkrid would at least ask once if he meant it.

So maybe that was why he had spoken to Jaxon, who left saying he had something to do, as if of course he would come back.

‘Is it my greed?’

Keeping people around him.

Keeping them close.

Was that really the right thing?

‘Do I need a wall to hide my pitiful ability?’

It was an extension of a thought that had brushed past him in childhood.

Of course, now it was pointless.

Pitiful ability?

Enkrid clenched his fist, then opened it.

The pain was easing in real time.

Thanks to the regenerative body based on the Isolation Technique, his body kept recovering.

His body had changed.

The sword he swung had changed.

His mindset was not all that different from the past, but change was still change.

‘No.’

Not a wall. Friends.

Comrades.

Sometimes teachers, sometimes members of the same unit fighting beside him.

He would ask them.

If he stood at an important crossroads, he would ask.

No, he would tell them.

That they could leave.

If it was a road like this one, where death was obvious?

‘I’ll use today.’

It was the mindset of using even the curse.

Not the passive stance he had before, but an active one.

That did not mean he would stop doing his best to break past today.

Then, if they could not even influence that today, he would let them leave.

That was the right path.

Enkrid did not agonize.

He had no anguish.

He simply decided.

“Let’s eat till we die!”

On one side, Helma shouted with her top off.

Only her chest was covered.

Was she not cold?

Her abs were visible.

So were the scars left on her body.

“You’re my woman!”

One soldier got cocky, took hits to the head and stomach, rolled to the side, and puked his guts out.

Yeah right, like she would ever be your woman.

Enkrid let out a short laugh.

For this one day, he threw away pointless thoughts.

He focused on resting.

“The mind must rest as much as the body does.
Brother.”

Had Audin not said that too?

He even forgot to brood.

It was only one day, but he thought about nothing.

He simply stayed in the present.

He spent this unending time called today.

Since today never came back, few things were this precious.

Enkrid laughed, ate, and drank.

“I’m going to be a cook. A cook.”

The soldier who cooked well had drifted over at some point and muttered it, so Enkrid answered him.

“Why are you telling me that?”

“Come be my customer.”

Look at this guy’s business sense.

Not Kraiss level, but not bad.

“Sure.”

“It’s an honor.”

At the soldier’s words, two soldiers watching from the side suddenly jumped in and said,

“I as well.”

“It’s an honor.”

Were they copying him right now?

They were drunk out of their minds.

You idiots.

Enkrid laughed and smacked both of them on the head.

“Argh!”

The two soldiers took the hits while laughing.

What kind of sloppy imitation was that?

At dawn the next day, Enkrid kept training even though he had slept only two hours.

He only loosened his body and raised his temperature without overdoing it, but a few soldiers who woke half-dead from hangovers rubbed their eyes at the sight.

‘He drank, ate, and partied like that yesterday, and now he wakes at dawn to train?
Is this for real?’

What could they do? Enkrid had already become the kind of man whose body felt better doing it than not doing it.

Naturally, Kraiss made a few Copper Coins from the bet.

After resting three days like that, Enkrid got his body roughly back in order.

It was time to return.

He still could not walk properly, so Garrett gave him a carriage.

Just before leaving, Garrett came to see Enkrid.

“Company Commander Enkrid.”

“Something you wanted to say?”

Had Garrett not usually pestered him to tell stories about what he had gone through and how he had fought?

Of course, it was not hard, but being watched with sparkling eyes by that middle-aged man could still feel a little burdensome.

He had even said he made a song.

Enkrid still had not heard it.

“Want to be Green Pearl’s battalion commander?”

Garrett made the offer.

He leaned a shoulder against the carriage and spoke with a yawn.

There was no tension at all.

Enkrid had received similar offers before, honestly even better ones, and turned them down.

He meant from the lord of Border Guard, who was also a battalion commander.

“No, I won’t.”

He refused at once, and Garrett chuckled.

“Figured you would.”

“If you knew, why ask?”

“Because I’m retiring.”

“Then why?”

“Because my successor’s gonna suffer a bit.”

Enkrid asked with his eyes what kind of suffering, and Garrett rattled it off.

“If you sit in this seat, the pressure from the center is no joke.
Right now, Lord Marcus seems to be blocking some of it, but who knows how long he can keep that up.
More than anything, doesn’t the way things are turning look like total chaos?”

What was he talking about?

“Are you saying it looks like a civil war might break out?”

Kraiss cut in from behind.

Again, it was mostly a conversation those two understood, but Enkrid caught enough.

Driving back Azpen was good, but from another angle it might also become the trigger for something else.

Naturally, it was not something to worry about right now.

Enkrid did not care.

For now.

‘The knight’s sword.’

He was too busy digesting what had entered him.

So he sat in the carriage and returned to Border Guard in a half-sleep state.

Since the Captain looked indifferent, Kraiss was the same.