WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Ryuu

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES

Chapter 34: Why Do You Go That Far?

"Is the reconnaissance I know different from the reconnaissance you know?" Rem asked, spinning his axe in his hand.

"What do you mean?"

"You look like you almost died and then came back."

"It's just a scratch on my side."

"If that's a scratch, then a cut must mean instant death, huh?" Rem laughed heartily.

This guy hadn't changed a bit, Well, how much could he change in just a few days?

For Enkrid, it had been months, but for them, it had been less than a week.

"I did almost die," Enkrid admitted, feeling the wound on his side.

In truth, he had experienced countless deaths, but he couldn't exactly say that.

"Let me see."

Jaxon approached and lifted Enkrid's shirt to inspect the wound. Enkrid turned to make it easier for him to see.

"What do you know about it?"

Rem grumbled, but Jaxon ignored him and examined the wound.

"It's nothing serious," Enkrid said.

"The bone isn't damaged, but don't underestimate a minor wound."

Jaxon advised. He was right.

"I've already applied ointment."

"That's good."

Jaxon nodded.

"Did you encounter the enemy during the reconnaissance?"

Big Eyes asked, looking at Enkrid's bedraggled appearance. His hair was greasy, his eyes were hollow from lack of rest after the battle, and he was covered in dirt and sweat from the march. They hadn't had proper food or rest during the mission, so it was no wonder he looked worn out.

'Was it just an encounter? We stirred up the enemy camp.'

There was no need to say too much, so Enkrid just nodded. Having watched Rem and Ragna's fight as soon as he arrived, he was drenched in sweat and feeling exhausted.

Right now, he needed to eat and rest.

"Got any food? And water?" he asked.

It was time to eat and rest. In truth, he wanted to swing his sword immediately, but he was aware of his physical limits. And given the enemy presence in the tall grass, it seemed this battle wouldn't end anytime soon. So, he needed to get his body in shape for the next fight.

"Go wash up. We'll prepare a royal feast for you," Rem joked with a smile.

Enkrid nodded and headed toward the nearby stream.

The infantry camp was placed here for a reason. The stream behind them provided drinking water and a place to wash. When he dipped his hands in the water, a chill ran up his arms.

'It's getting colder.'

The temperature was dropping. Enkrid splashed water on his face, then began to strip and wash off the blood, oil, sweat, and grime from his body.

'That guy...'

As he washed, the events of the mission replayed in his mind. The tall grass, the ambush, passing the flag, and finally the guy with the sword and torch.

'I feel like I'll meet him again.'

It was an unavoidable premonition.

'Is this the wall?'

The eyeless ferryman had spoken of an endless wall blocking his path. He wasn't worried. He would just overcome it. To be honest, he was actually looking forward to it. Not being able to fight that guy had left him feeling regretful.

Of course, if they fought, he would probably die, but he didn't want to avoid it. He wanted to fight him. Seeing that guy had sparked an intense competitive spirit within him. Sometimes, you meet someone you just want to beat, similar to falling in love at first sight, but quite the opposite.

Having cleaned up, he returned to find hot soup, bread, and even some well-grilled meat skewers waiting for him. It wasn't quite a royal feast, but it was a rare treat on the battlefield.

"Rabbit?"

Enkrid asked, looking at the meat. Rem proudly stepped forward.

"I personally prepared it."

"No, Rem, I caught it," Kraiss corrected with a glare.

"Thanks."

Enkrid sat down and devoured the food.

"Every time I see you, I think you eat really well," Rem commented.

"You need to eat well to have strength."

"You're the most unique person I've ever met."

Watching him eat, Rem crossed his arms and said something nonsensical. To hear such words from a guy who had a hobby of assaulting comrades...

"I don't want to hear that from you," Enkrid retorted.

Rem laughed again.

After that, the squad members went their separate ways. Jaxon left, saying he had business to attend to, and Kraiss went off to sell his wares.

The religious zealot started praying in one corner, while Rem spent his time idly outside the tent, probably making pointless jokes with passing soldiers.

Ragna, however, kept staring at Enkrid, making his presence felt.

"What?"

Enkrid asked, turning to look at him.

"Just looking," Ragna replied, half-lying down.

When Enkrid tilted his head in confusion, Ragna turned away, saying it was nothing. He seemed to have something to say but didn't push it further. Enkrid knew from leading the Troublemaker Squad that pressing now wouldn't get any answers.

In cases like this, it was better to wait. If it was important, Ragna would bring it up again. If not, it would just pass.

Having just returned from a mission, Enkrid was exempt from night watch and meal duties. He ate well and slept deeply. Jaxon's ointment worked wonders. The wound on his side healed quickly. A couple more days of rest would be enough. Even while resting, Enkrid didn't waste his time.

'I'll probably lose ten times out of ten.'

He sat and mentally swung his sword. First against Rem, then Ragna, then the enemy he met in the tall grass. He pondered and pondered. An old swordsman from a quiet coastal town had once told him,

"If you don't want to die by a blind sword, you have two options. One is to pray to the goddess of fortune with all your might."

The first was to rely on luck.

"The second is to think and think again."

If you fought and survived, that fight would become an asset, the old man had said. So, how do you fight and survive?

By pondering. By thinking. By considering.

Think endlessly about methods. If you face the enemy without any thoughts, then you have to rely entirely on luck. If you don't want that, think and ponder in advance.

'He was a good teacher.'

His advice had been perfect for Enkrid at the time. And it was still useful now. Enkrid thought and pondered.

How to win.

At the very least, how to avoid losing.

His desperate search for a way out was the essence of the Vallen Style Swordsmanship. Some called it a crude trick, but it was Enkrid's core technique. It included tricks, headbutts, the Three Sword Style, and techniques for throwing daggers or stones. Though seemingly absurd and futile, it worked well against first-time opponents or those with mediocre skills.

In his mind, Enkrid swung his sword. He assumed a thrusting position, then threw a stone. Pretending to draw his sword, he threw a throwing knife. Rem deflected them all with his axe, and Ragna dodged them with footwork. The enemy with the sword and torch ignored the flying stone and charged, stabbing his heart. Reality might differ from his imagination, but at least in his mind, they moved as he envisioned.

'Again.'

He thought endlessly. Enkrid spent the whole day doing this and fell asleep. When he lay down, he fell asleep immediately. After all, he had just completed a grueling mission and was exhausted.

The next morning, Kraiss brought breakfast. It was thin soup, salty dried meat, and dry bread.

"Are you on duty?"

"Yes, you slept well."

"I was tired."

Kraiss rolled his big eyes and asked,

"What happened? Tell me."

Kraiss, Big Eyes, was the information hub of the battlefield. Enkrid paused, thinking for a moment. He decided there was no need to keep it secret. It would be known soon enough, and it wasn't classified information.

However, he didn't go into too much detail, only mentioning the enemy ambush in the tall grass. Explaining in detail would have been too tedious.

"Damn. If they ambushed us, they're not planning to let us go. But does ambushing there even make sense?"

Big Eyes, knowing little about strategy, sometimes hit the mark.

'It doesn't make sense.'

If the recon route hadn't passed through there, they would have missed it entirely. Without his ability to repeat today, the reconnaissance squad might have been wiped out.

An ambush was a tactic to counter an attack but their forces weren't advancing toward the tall grass.

So it was pointless. Big Eyes had pointed that out.

"We don't know yet."

And that was the truth. He assumed the higher-ups had a plan.

But something was definitely happening. From the flag to the guy guarding it. The placement of their troops showed a clear intent to annihilate any approaching enemies.

Normally, they wouldn't deploy their troops that way. So, the conclusion was that the enemy was preparing something.

"Damn, I thought this would end soon."

"We'll probably get orders today or tomorrow."

Shortly after their trivial conversation, someone shouted outside.

"Move out! 4th Company, move out!"

It was the voice of the 4th Platoon Leader.

"Your leg's not injured, right?"

The man poked his head into Enkrid's tent.

"I heard you went through hell."

"Where did you hear that?"

"Rumors are all over. They say you're the hidden child of the goddess of fortune."

Since he attributed everything to luck, this reaction was natural.

"Then who's my dad?"

"Who knows."

The platoon leader chuckled at Enkrid's joke.

"You must be tired, but we need to move. The unit is heading east from the position."

With that, Enkrid stood up. East meant toward the tall grass.

Knowing about the ambush, they wouldn't charge into the grass.

"It feels like a fight is coming. The air has changed."

Rem suddenly appeared beside him.

"Does it?"

"Don't get cocky just because you've improved. Stay cautious."

Was this concern or a curse?

It wasn't just the 4th Company moving; the entire infantry battalion was relocating. Most of the infantry forces mobilized for this battle were moving.

A platoon had about forty men. So, roughly six hundred infantry were moving. With the sound of their footsteps, the infantry moved out.

There was no battle that day. They set up a temporary camp after relocating. They lit fires and took positions.

No sane commander would order a charge into the tall grass, so it seemed like they were positioning themselves to be prepared for any situation.

That night passed, and Enkrid's wound hardly bothered him anymore.

The next day, they were instructed to manage their own meals. The six squad members gathered and cooked stew in a pot.

"I caught a lizard on the way."

Jaxon added the drained lizard meat to the stew.

"What a commendable act."

Rem was genuinely pleased. Jaxon didn't respond. Rem growled, feeling ignored, but Jaxon paid no attention.

'They weirdly suit each other.'

One talked, and the other ignored him. It seemed to work. In the army, moving, eating, and resting were tasks in themselves.

During the whole move and meals, Enkrid felt a peculiar gaze. Someone was staring at him.

It was Ragna.

"You're wearing out my face," Enkrid remarked.

Ragna averted his gaze.

"It's nothing."

He clearly had something to say.

Though the atmosphere was tense, as if a battle could break out any moment, another day passed. In his spare time, Enkrid practiced what he had mentally rehearsed. Some things were easier than expected, others harder.

As he practiced with his sword from morning, Ragna approached and asked,

"Why do you go that far?"

It was a random question, but Enkrid understood it perfectly. People who couldn't speak properly weren't rare. Ragna wasn't eloquent. He spoke his mind bluntly. So, the listener had to interpret it well.

In this regard, Enkrid was suitable. He understood what Ragna meant.

Scratch.

Enkrid scratched his forehead with his finger.

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