WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES

Chapter 328: Rapid Cognition

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For three straight days, Enkrid did nothing but think and review.

He had no choice.

He had pushed his body so hard it was a miracle he had not broken down.

Because of that, he could only do the simplest physical training.

A few flexibility exercises, and a few swings at empty air so he would not lose his edge. That was all.

He poured the rest of his time into thinking and review.

Even so, it was not boring.

"Using your body right now is like pouring water into a broken bowl, brother."

What Audin meant was clear. Whatever Enkrid did now would just leak away, leaving little behind.

In the past, before he started repeating today, he would have kept forcing himself whether the bowl cracked or not.

But now he knew.

When it was time to rest, he had to rest.

"You can only move forward if you rest properly, brother. Long ago, there was a goat named Nu. Nu could walk without rest. He had very sturdy legs. So Goat Nu walked without stopping. Nu believed moving forward and forward was the reason he had been given such strong legs. So he kept walking without pause. Seeing this, the Lord said, if you walk without watching your direction, you will not know where you are."

Audin launched into a sermon.

It was not unpleasant to listen to.

Teresa knelt beside him and listened too.

The two of them matched in a strange way.

For one thing, they were built similarly, so people even called them giant siblings.

Looking now, even their atmosphere felt alike.

After Audin's sermon and nagging, Teresa quietly talked about things from her past.

Considering their first meeting, it should have been awkward, but Enkrid knew how to smooth out relationships between people.

If conversation required skill, Enkrid was exceptionally skilled.

"Resting because you're injured, I guess we're in the same boat."

"Yes, we are."

"You killed a bishop. Won't they come after you with bloodshot eyes?"

"I don't know."

"What about your response?"

"I plan to do as much as I can."

Teresa, unexpectedly, was not well informed about Cult matters.

So it was hard to get useful information through her.

Even so, Kraiss seemed to pick up bits and pieces and draw his own guesses.

"These days, I'm learning to sing."

Teresa said it suddenly.

Her voice had that rough grain unique to her.

You could call it coarse, but with the sharpened hearing he had gained through Sensory Art, Enkrid could hear the strength in it.

Rough, yes.

But attractive too.

Like rough timber that could become a fine table without losing its texture.

Enkrid himself had no talent for singing, but he had picked up plenty of songs while wandering.

Garrett had a surprisingly clear, pretty voice, and Enkrid thought it might pair well with Teresa's rough tone.

"The captain's been grinding himself down. What were you doing?"

"Fighting."

"I asked where you were fighting. Are you phrasing it like that on purpose? Ah, right. You like getting hit, don't you?"

"I don't."

"Yeah, yeah, let's go. Let's get hit, no, let's spar."

Off to one side, Rem started pushing Dunbakel hard like he had been waiting for the chance.

Ragna dozed in a corner.

He was recovering too.

While people went back and forth about whether to hold a banquet, Enkrid focused on rest outside of basic training.

That rest included thinking, review, and talking with his unit members.

He also made sure to eat properly.

"If eel gets delivered, make sure you try it."

He even gave that recommendation.

Rem noticed Ragna nodding beside him and perked up.

"That picky tongue approves it?"

"I've had eel too."

"The seasoning is different."

Inside the barracks, Enkrid sensed a strange current.

He had seen Ragna and Rem coolly ignoring each other plenty of times.

Something like tension hung between them.

Had this only happened once or twice? Of course not, so Enkrid ignored it easily.

"Ointment."

Sinar stopped by now and then, and once again brought more ointment.

"Did you raid an elf treasure vault?"

"How did you know?"

Enkrid had gotten used to elf-style jokes, so he answered smoothly.

"I knew by feel."

"I heard that same feel brought you back alive. Impressive."

With that pointless remark, Sinar vanished in a flash.

The ointment really was handmade.

A faint grassy scent rose from the ointment in a small earthen jar darkened by years of use.

The jar was old, but what was inside smelled fresh.

So yes, it was handmade.

After Sinar left, daily life did not change.

Whenever he had time, Enkrid went deeper inside himself.

He reviewed what he had learned and practiced.

He could not push his body hard right now, so what else could he do?

He drove his mind like a madman.

He had gained quite a lot this time.

Could this use of feel work in actual combat too?

It seemed entirely possible.

Taken broadly, it became intuition that could catch the turning point between victory and defeat on a battlefield.

If he focused on the enemy directly in front of him, he could use it another way too.

That had already been proven through that knight from the Grand Duke's Knight Order.

He had boldness through Heart of the Beast, sharpness through Sensory Art, and concentration on top of that.

So what was missing?

Thinking was about identifying that.

It was the power to train eyes that faced his present self directly.

He had done this thousands of times, so Enkrid quickly saw what he lacked.

More precisely, he knew how to identify what he needed now and what he was currently looking at, so the answer came easily.

What he needed now was rapid cognition.

How would he respond to situation, moment, and phenomenon?

He needed to consider multiple options quickly, choose the best one, and execute it.

This was not just a matter of sense. He had to become used to thinking itself.

Not instinct.

He had to shorten the thinking process.

In truth, those three words, "by feel," already contained intuition built from experience.

The conclusion was still rapid cognition.

If he relied only on feel, he would be tricked by deceptive swords.

How much had he gained so far by using Vallen Style Mercenary Swordsmanship?

Enkrid did not think he was special.

He always kept in mind that the same thing could happen to him at any time.

Naturally.

As a child, he had been called a genius, then left the village and got battered by life again and again.

That was also why repetition and training had sunk into his bones.

Once his thoughts caught fire, they did not go out.

While Enkrid sank deeper and deeper into himself, things happened outside, but he did not care.

No, he did not even hear them.

"Who are you here for?"

He ignored the faint sounds from outside.

He went deeper into himself. Deeper still.

Knight.

That man's sword rose in his mind again and again.

Reading its trajectory was only the start.

He could not even read the man's breathing, so only after seeing it countless times at the cost of death could he respond.

What was different?

He knew it was different.

But what was the root reason?

As he dug deeper, he felt something.

By surpassing repeated days, Enkrid had gained a different perspective.

What kind of speed had been needed to save the child?

What had he needed to break past the wall called strategy? Perception.

He had called that knight's sword despair.

It was despair, and yet not only despair.

A widened perspective and experience facing the knight.

That awakened something inside Enkrid.

To surpass the knight's sword, he changed his viewpoint.

Instead of blocking, he struck first.

That was his way of crossing the condition the opponent had set: one strike.

Ah.

A small realization flared like a spark, vanished, then flared again.

The moment he recognized it, Enkrid urged himself to change.

What had he gained when he kicked off the ground to save the child?

Momentary Will.

He had needed speed to slip into the brief gap when others looked away.

That was how Will had taken root in him.

Was it different when he had been trapped in the frame called strategy?

The shackles of ominousness, sense of evasion, laying attack intent over sensation, were they all different?

No.

They were the same.

He let them seep into Sensory Art and blend.

He clumped them together, kneaded them, and made them one.

That was how he gained that absurd feel.

Did Will play no part in that at all?

No, it did.

He could feel it.

It had been possible because his willpower, his Will, had overlaid his intent.

It was the same as when he understood Refusal to overcome pressure.

Then what about the Crushing Sword he had forged to receive the knight's blade?

Here, Enkrid hesitated.

Should he take a great step forward?

It felt possible.

Still, he did not know if it was the right path.

He thought he had only closed his eyes while sitting, but perhaps he had fallen asleep, because he saw the Boatman.

"Do what you've been doing."

Only the Boatman's blurred face appeared, then faded.

Advice, or interference?

Even at a moment like this, Enkrid's feel activated.

It sounded like advice.

He set a guidepost and walked.

One step at a time, steadily, as he always had.

That felt like the answer.

When he sorted it out and opened his eyes,

"How about fixing that habit of yours, passing out whenever you get the chance?"

He heard Rem's voice.

Without realizing it again, he had forgotten himself and sunk into the world of swords.

"How long?"

"Two days."

Kraiss answered.

But that did not seem to be the real issue.

"You should go see the lord quickly."

"Why?"

"Someone's been waiting since yesterday."

Enkrid took in the situation at a glance.

He was inside the barracks, and Audin was nowhere in sight.

His sharpened hearing from Sensory Art told him Audin was talking with someone far away.

"I blocked them yesterday."

Rem added.

His attitude was slightly gruff.

Enkrid got the rough picture.

He had slipped into the world of swords again, drooling and forgetting himself, so unit members had stepped in to keep people from disturbing him.

But if that were all, Lord Graham would have let it pass.

No one would call him out like this unless someone significant had arrived.

"Who came?"

Enkrid asked as he stood.

"Count Molsen."

Kraiss answered.

"In person?"

"Yes."

At Kraiss's words, Enkrid started walking.

The king of the frontier, an ambitious monster of a noble.

If he had come all the way here, he was surely plotting something.

"He said he came to see only you, captain. Be careful."

Kraiss warned him.

A noble had waited two days.

Could he make him wait longer if necessary? Sure.

But that would be foolish.

Enkrid was mad about swords, not an idiot.

He knew which path was easier.

He was a little hungry, but his head was clear, and his body was not in bad condition.

"Wait."

Enkrid strode out quickly, and Kraiss followed.

If he had something to say, he would come on his own, so Enkrid headed straight to the front of the camp.

There, with Audin, he saw a woman in a thin fur coat, her long black hair standing out.

It was Esther.

"Tired of living as a panther?"

That fur had been soft and warm.

Esther turned her head at Enkrid's comment.

"I did not become a beast by choice."

Her tone was prickly.

So she was as usual.

In front of Audin stood a fierce-looking man and a woman in scale armor.

The woman had her eyes half closed, but a strange light seemed to shine from them.

The man looked solid as a rock, and the woman stood upright.

Several soldiers stood lined up behind her.

"I told you to at least hear him out."

Kraiss spoke from behind, and the woman who noticed Enkrid opened her mouth.

Her eyes swept over his face and body as she spoke.

"So you are the one called Enkrid?"

"Yes, that's right. And you are?"

"Sister, look. He came out once we waited."

Audin cut in.

"Two full days, making the count wait."

The man moved his rock-like mouth.

When he clenched his teeth, his jaw muscles tightened.

Muscles that looked like they could crush stone.

Is his main weapon his teeth?

They were in front of the barracks.

The guard on duty looked troubled, but Audin calmly added, wearing his usual gentle smile.

"Haha, he came out now. Brother."

"Do you take the count's name lightly in this land? Keep that up and you'll pay for it, big man."

The man warned him, and Enkrid stepped in front of Audin.

Audin rarely got angry, but he was not the type to let provocation slide either.

Knowing that, Enkrid stepped up himself.

Even without restraining him, Audin would not start swinging at once, but better to keep things smooth.

Enkrid had come out. That should have been enough.

"My apologies. Let's go now."

"I think we come first."

The straight-backed woman said that.

She had a round helmet tucked under her arm and a thick fur cloak around her shoulders, and her eyes were unusual.

Her pupils glowed white.

"She belongs to a bloodline that holds spells in their eyes."

Esther said from behind.

There was a bloodline like that?

Enkrid stared at her blankly.

So what?

Having spells in her eyes was not the important part.

Though that was probably why Esther had stepped out.

She might have been wary because the other side had a mage.

Enkrid's guess was right.

Esther had come out intending to make them pay if they tried any clumsy trick.

As if she would let them chant some petty spell here.

Enkrid scratched his chin with his right index finger.

All this was to avoid disturbing him. Even he found that surprising.

No, maybe it was not surprising anymore.

By now, could he not fully expect them to act like this?

True enough.

The woman with spells in her eyes spoke again.

"We came from Baisar. Someone with business for you is waiting."

How many nobles were there in the Kingdom of Naurillia?

Not one or two.

Among them, to put it bluntly, Enkrid was close to a country bumpkin.

He had been to the capital, but prices were high, and there was little he could do there.

That was why he had wandered the frontier.

There had been a reason he had gone all the way to a corner of the coast and met a swordsmanship instructor.

Even Enkrid knew Centerpole, the Thumb House, one of the five houses that made up the kingdom.

It was Marcus's home family.

House Baisar, also called Centerpole or the Thumb House.

A family with immense influence even in the capital.

If Marcus had returned, this would not have happened this way.

Someone else would have come.

Enkrid grasped the situation from a few words.

Rapid cognition worked in moments like this too.

He shortened the thought process, settled on an answer, and acted.

"Let's meet together."

What both sides wanted seemed obvious, so this should be fine.

No, this would be better for him.

At his words, Rock Jaw and Spell Eyes looked at each other.

Both clearly could not wait any longer.

They had already shown plenty of patience up to now.

Without talk of a war hero, someone who might become a knight, they would never have waited at all.

Soon, both of them nodded.

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