A Knight who Eternally Regresses - Chapter 337

WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES

Chapter 337: Showing Off with Ghouls?

= = =

“Departure?”

Enkrid asked for the date.

“There’s no need to rush.”

At least half a month, maybe more.

That was what Kraiss thought.

The Gray Ghoul was a demon creature that had stayed in that area for a long time.

Leaving it alone for another month or two would not cause any major problems.

“Got it.”

“How many troops do you think we should take?”

Kraiss expected at least two companies.

It was that kind of operation.

After a brief pause, Enkrid answered.

“One independent company.”

“...An independent company?”

There was only one independent company in the Border Guard right now.

The Madman Company.

Is this bastard actually insane?

It was not a joke. That was his real thought.

The only reason the risk looked lower was because they could prepare that much better.

Now that Azpen was no longer a threat, this had become possible.

Until now, those Azpen bastards had kept them from pulling troops out freely.

Yes, the number of irregular combat assets, including Enkrid, had grown, but the clearer reason was that they finally had room to move.

All the absurdity and emotion inside Kraiss came out as one sound.

“Huh?”

What was there to be surprised about?

Enkrid had faced gnoll and centaur colonies before.

If there was no need to hold a defensive line or guard a village, then dealing with a demon creature colony was surprisingly simple.

That answer came from accumulated experience.

‘Take out the head and it ends.’

A simple principle.

And true.

Even scholars, supposedly the smarter sort, had picked leader elimination as the best method for resolving the Land of the Gray Ghouls.

Then what was needed?

At minimum, knight-order-level power.

Better yet if a knight came in person.

That was the best method.

But there was no severe damage right now, only inconvenience.

The palace’s stance was to deal with it once they had spare capacity.

So no knight order would come.

The palace could ignore it, but Kraiss could not.

The situation had changed.

Detouring trade routes meant losses.

Big losses.

Enormous losses.

For the Border Guard, this had to be solved.

For the future, they had to strengthen the trade routes, and he had already been thinking through multiple ways to do it.

At least Kraiss had.

‘Krona is leaking.’

The longer transport took, the more silver leaked out, one or two coins at a time. Everyone knew that.

So they would solve it.

Enkrid’s standing would rise even higher because of this.

A palace request had overlapped too.

Which meant this had to succeed, and it had to be handled safely, but...

“For real?”

“For real.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s enough.”

“You hit your head too hard while sparring?”

“Why are you talking to me casually nonstop?”

“I was too shocked.

That’s why.”

When is this bastard ever going to act normal?

Enkrid saw the insolence in Kraiss’s eyes and smacked him on the head.

“That hurt.”

“I could have cracked your skull.”

He was not lying.

Kraiss endured the pain.

Only the Madman Company would go.

‘Ah... well, it should work, right?’

Enkrid would go in person.

It was the commander’s judgment.

Kraiss could roughly understand why.

If they scaled up and marched a larger unit, there would be casualties.

Some people would be injured, some would die.

Naturally.

Was that the only reason?

No.

A quiet heat had appeared in Enkrid’s eyes.

He was itching to fight.

Kraiss felt oddly certain.

Enkrid asked,

“A request came from the center too?”

“It was close, but yes.

It came.”

The palace had only been a convenient excuse, but then a real request arrived.

A letter came with it.

[May you triumph.]

Only three words.

It was from Marcus, the former lord.

“Must be busy.”

Enkrid did not bother writing back.

That was that.

They checked each person’s gear, packed supplies, and Kraiss handled what preparations he could.

It took only two days to finish departure prep.

If they had sent full company strength, they would have needed at least ten days, but this stayed light.

Kraiss still wondered if this was right, yet strangely, he did not feel any bad omen.

They were not even taking the whole unit.

“Do I really have to go?”

While they prepared, Ragna asked with drooping eyes.

He looked more and more like an aging dog.

“If you sleep and still feel tired, just die.”

Rem gave his blessing.

“If you want to die, come at me anytime.

You can ambush me while I sleep.

It still won’t work.”

Ragna politely declined the blessing.

“Do we really need that bastard?”

Enkrid thought for a moment.

As long as the small elite strike plan stayed effective, that was enough.

In this fight, Ragna’s most important role was not getting lost.

“Rest.”

Enkrid left Ragna behind.

What if the Gray Ghouls were dangerous enough to call in knights?

‘That would be fun too.’

Enkrid always thirsted for new challenges.

This mission was like rain falling on drought-cracked earth.

He did not worry about danger or what came after.

Kraiss did the worrying.

He gathered nearby intelligence, analyzed it, and assessed the value of the Gray Ghoul forest, now reduced to ruin.

Then he concluded the colony leader inside was not as threatening as expected.

‘A ghoul that gained intelligence while leading a colony.’

A creature that flatly rejected the saying, “Ghoul brains, my ass.”

It was a thinking ghoul.

And it hid in a forest?

Why?

Because there was too much to eat?

Because demon creature aggression had been neutralized?

‘No chance.’

It had gained intelligence, so it understood it could lose if it fought recklessly.

That was why it held favorable ground and endured.

Kraiss judged that to be the true nature of the Gray Ghoul.

‘Well, if it goes wrong, he’ll get out somehow.’

He had seen Enkrid break through traps by instinct alone before.

After that, trusting him came naturally.

Two days passed.

On departure day, Sinar joined them.

“Are you not busy?”

“I am an elf.”

What she meant was simple: she could not ignore demon creatures polluting a forest.

Elves loved forests.

Plants did not display turbulent emotions, but they were full of life.

That vitality in the forest fed a certain strength in an elf’s body.

Forest bathing could heal even mortal wounds.

Of course, only if the forest was healthy and dense.

“In the name of the elves, I will not forgive this.”

At her flat declaration, Enkrid nodded.

No matter how he looked at her, this did not feel like a march to protect the peace of the forest, but she was still more than sharp enough for a small elite force.

“Then let’s go.”

They rode in a wagon for a day, claimed a campsite first, laid stones, set a pot, and prepared sleeping places.

Up to that point, a regular escort squad managed camp, lit fires, and stood night watch.

On the way, they encountered three ghouls.

“I’ll handle it.”

Led by a soldier from Green Pearl, the squad-level troops engaged them.

They had heard ghoul numbers rose in spring, and now they were appearing even on the main roads.

Word was that merchants had a much rougher route now.

“Hah!”

The soldiers’ battle cries rang out.

Without a single scratch, the three ghouls ended up sprawled on the ground.

They beheaded the first and second.

For the third, they cut its legs, then threw a stone from range and smashed its skull.

That third ghoul moved faster than the other two.

Not all demon creatures were the same.

There were individual differences.

The squad tactics that accounted for that were impressive.

Two relatively strong soldiers used spears to pin the fast ghoul and buy time.

The short spear and shield setup worked well.

Enkrid judged the squad’s combat power to be decent.

‘If they polish the basics a little more.’

In his view, basics started with running beside the river of death.

The actual running happened on the Green Pearl plains, but if you ran long enough, it felt like you could see that river of death.

For these people, that was not good news.

After one night’s sleep and several days of detouring travel, they approached the Land of the Gray Ghouls.

Everyone, including the squad troops, had marched well.

“Then we’ll return.”

The commander saluted, and Enkrid nodded.

After sending the troops back, Enkrid surveyed the area.

A forest steeped in a grim aura. They set up in an open patch before it.

“We go in tomorrow morning.”

Fighting demon creatures at night was foolish.

“Let’s do that,” Rem answered.

Just because they trusted their skills, did they need to choose extra risk on purpose?

For one night of camping?

Enkrid did not.

And the next day, as soon as the sun rose, Enkrid, Rem, Audin, Dunbakel, Teresa, and Sinar stepped into the ghoul land.

* * *

A shallow mist blocked their sight, and the gray-tinted trees narrowed visibility again.

Beyond them, a sour, musty stench drifted in with damp, murky air.

“Looks like the kind of place where breathing alone makes you sick.”

Rem said it while crushing gray fallen leaves underfoot.

He was right.

Air entered through the nose, passed the throat, and reached the lungs.

In that process, Enkrid’s sharpened senses from his sensory art caught a muddy impurity mixed into the air.

If you stayed long enough, poison would build up in your body.

‘A thinking ghoul, huh.’

There had to be a reason it chose this as its home base.

Or maybe it had changed the environment after settling here.

Naturally, they had already known these facts before coming.

Did they come with no information at all?

Still, the poison was thicker than expected.

A weak person would develop lung disease in less than two days.

As for Enkrid and the others, who were absurdly healthy, they could camp here for a month and only feel discomfort, not lung disease.

Their stamina and strength put their health far beyond ordinary people.

“Grrraaaargh!”

They had breathed this foul air only a few times when ghouls burst out.

By his sound-based sixth sense, Enkrid knew there were six.

They kicked hard off the ground and charged through the trees.

He was in front, so he stepped forward naturally.

Ting.

With his left thumb, he pushed up the clasp locking sword and scabbard.

Then he took the sword in his right hand and opened his senses wider.

Nostrils like two flat holes, skin near dark gray, developed leg muscles, long arms.

Their claws curved forward at the tips. If those dug in, they would tear out a lot of flesh.

Black eyes, pupil-less eyes, drew black streaks through the gray forest.

He took it all in, heard the charge, and in the domain of his sixth sense calculated the speed of the rushing ghouls.

He did not need the Quick Sword, the Flowing Sword, or the Heavy Sword.

He trusted the silver weapon in his hand to do its job.

Besides, he had come to kill the so-called Gray Ghoul King, so he intended to conserve strength.

Optimal movement and minimal pathing. To do that, he needed accelerated thought.

Rapid cognition. As the speed of his thinking increased, his Correct Sword advanced another step.

No, it did not stop at advancement.

Rem’s instinct, sharper than a beast’s, had clearly caught what Enkrid lacked, and sparring had helped those parts grow.

Enkrid also knew his own gaps.

“You only improve when you recognize what you are missing.”

Words from a mercenary he had met in the city.

The man was no sword instructor, but he shared plenty of real combat advice, and it helped.

Enkrid tested and experimented with those scattered bits of combat and life wisdom in his own body, turning them into experience.

He had always done that.

This time was the same.

So even while experiencing a knight’s sword and sparring with Rem and the others, that did not change.

Enkrid kept his focus on filling what he lacked.

Now it was time to show the result.

Three from the left, two from the right, one kicked off and leaped upward.

Crack!

Branches snapped as they broke through whatever stood in front of them. Claws and gray bodies filled his view.

Enkrid’s hands and feet moved.

As always, it began with his feet.

He pivoted on his left foot and drew with his right hand.

The one dropping from above came first.

He marked points.

Then he smoothly connected every point into lines.

Thud!

Split, slice, stab, thump!

He split the one descending from overhead vertically, added force with his left hand, and pushed with his right toward the left side.

As he recovered that right hand, he swung left from his perspective.

Two ghoul heads caught on the extended blade and split at an angle.

The first was cut from the right eye through the skull.

The second lost the top of its head.

Black blood and brain matter sprayed through the air.

In that gap, Enkrid shifted his axis to the right foot, twisted his body slightly, drew his gladius with his right hand, thrust to the right twice in a row, then turned his wrist and struck the last one’s skull with the flat of the blade.

A chain of complex movements, yet every move happened within one breath.

As if prearranged, as if it were a precision routine forged by endless repetition, each action linked without pause.

‘All that sparring helped a lot.’

Among methods for training the Correct Sword, experience came first.

In that, he lacked nothing.

Then he stacked sparring and effort on top.

Thanks to that, Enkrid could show a fourth sword here.

The first was Snake Sword.

The second was Lightning Thrust.

The third was Crushing Sword.

Now came the fourth.

That fight just now could have made the ghouls look stupid.