WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES

Chapter 350: The Knight Who Chooses a King

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The wind and rain raged for one more day, then finally stopped just as it was becoming unbearable.

It had truly been miserable rain.

"Let's rest before we move on."

A little while after the rain stopped, Enkrid said it. Water still dripped from his body, and far off in the sky, sunlight flickered weakly between the clouds.

Even that was already tilting west.

They were passing from a dim, gloomy evening into true darkness.

"Let's do that."

Rem nodded.

The Madman Company was not the issue. Crang had held up well too, but the mounts were the problem.

They still had at least ten more days of riding ahead. If the horses were already exhausted, they were in trouble.

More than anything, if they did not deal with their soaked bodies, it would be easy to fall sick.

The moment even one person started coughing, everything would become a headache.

If a horse got sick, that was just as bad.

Because of the storm, they had barely slept and just kept moving.

"You plan to spend the time we bought on this?"

The whip guard asked, almost to himself.

They had bought that time by killing every bastard who came to kill them.

Should they not be moving now, while they were still outside the enemy's expected range?

Enkrid nodded.

Yes, he would spend it here.

That was the kind of answer it was. The whip guard said nothing.

What was there to say.

His best move was to focus on protecting his lord.

Even if he argued, Enkrid would not listen.

'He'll handle it.'

Something close to trust, almost respect, had formed.

"Rem, let's make a fire."

"I feel like you keep making me do all the annoying jobs. What do you think?"

"Do I? Then should I send Ragna instead?"

If they sent him to fetch dry wood, they would probably see him again around this time next year.

"Forget it."

Rem waved his hands.

"Dunbakel, come with me."

Enkrid assigned him one more pair of hands.

"...Okay."

Dunbakel joined in, making it very obvious she did not want to. Rem looked at her and said,

"Want to die?"

"I want to live. Nobody wants to die."

Rem and Dunbakel's voices faded as they moved away. It was pointless banter.

The two left the road and headed into the forest.

While they were gone, Enkrid dug into the ground with Jaxon and Ragna.

The Odd-Eye, soaked like the rest of them, helped.

"Nice trick."

Crang said it while watching.

The Odd-Eye thumped at the ground with its hoof and opened up a hole.

Enkrid set a flat stone over it.

Even with rain pouring that hard, the packs wrapped in oiled cloth and leather were probably still dry, but they had no cooking tools.

Instead, they had salt and seasoned jerky.

Enkrid took out the salt and jerky.

The flat stone would do nicely for grilling it.

Despite the storm, Rem and Dunbakel somehow brought back branches that were not completely soaked.

Enkrid split the half-wet branches himself into kindling, took flint from the baggage, and lit a fire.

Clicking, stone striking stone, then flames rose.

He blew softly, and the fire grew. He fed in a few more branches.

If it had not been raining, he would have built a bigger fire, but this was the limit for now.

"Let's dry our clothes."

Other than Esther, the only woman there was Dunbakel, but when she transformed, fur covered her whole body.

Meaning she could strip without caring who watched.

In the first place, expecting a beastfolk to be shy about being naked was ridiculous.

"You are not the issue. Other people have to look. Cover up."

Enkrid taught Dunbakel some consideration.

"Is it a problem because I'm too attractive?"

"Heh."

At that, the leopard snorted.

Dunbakel let it slide.

Enkrid found that strangely fascinating again.

Thinking about it, Esther did not have bad relations with anyone in the company. It was fair to say she got along well with all of them.

Why?

Was there really a reason?

There was. It was in how everyone treated Esther.

They did not reject her for being a mage.

How the world saw witches had nothing to do with them.

For Rem especially, who practiced sorcery, she was almost one of his own kind.

Their work and abilities were completely different, but he still felt that kinship.

That was why Rem treated her kindly.

Ragna did not care whether Esther was a mage or a sorcerer.

In the past, Audin would have challenged her as a heretic, but not now.

Seeing Enkrid had broadened his world and changed what he understood.

He called Esther sister and respected her too.

As for Teresa, there was nothing to say.

She had seen many mages among the Cultists.

Compared to them, Esther was a witch overflowing with social grace.

Dunbakel was similar in her own way.

Esther did not really cause her any trouble, and she was pretty.

Sometimes Dunbakel disliked how Esther tried to monopolize the captain.

Other than that, Dunbakel also liked Esther's long hair.

It was very soft.

And Esther, for her part, let Dunbakel touch it.

There was no fear in anyone's eyes, and no curious gawking either.

Everyone simply recognized her as a person and respected her.

How could she dislike that.

'Do I see people in a better light now?'

It was rare for Esther, but she took it as a good sign.

Mages existed to pursue inquiry.

To Esther, even this moment was worth studying.

What effect would these relationships have on her magic?

That was more than worth researching.

"Esther, dry your fur too."

At Enkrid's words, Esther quietly settled beside the campfire.

Everyone dried their clothes. They kept only their underwear on, and since it was thin cloth, they dried that while wearing it.

The journey would take a month at most, and on day one, right after they set out, they had been attacked by around thirty assassins.

No one could call that good.

"Want a drink?"

Rem went looking for alcohol.

Jaxon had already taken it out and was in the middle of a sip.

Enkrid was asking if he had any intention of sharing.

They all looked as if they had nothing to worry about.

"No booze?"

Crang, maybe swept up by the mood, asked too.

The guard shook his head. Booze, really.

He could only find it strange that they were thinking about leisurely drinking out here.

Jaxon handed a small bottle to Enkrid.

Enkrid took a sip and nodded.

"Apple cider."

"I met a brewer where I went."

"Excellent."

Enkrid sounded impressed.

"Only you get to drink?"

Rem strode up to Jaxon and boldly held out his hand. Still seated, Jaxon drew his dagger and slashed. Rem snatched his hand back and dodged.

"What are you doing?"

"Weren't you offering it so I could cut your wrist off?"

"Captain, can I kill one stray cat?"

Enkrid took another sip of cider and watched the two of them bickering again.

Then he sealed the bottle and tossed it.

Rem snatched it from the air.

Jaxon did not argue over what the captain chose to share.

That ended the fight. The heat came out of it, and both turned away as if they did not see each other.

Rem stopped grumbling too.

"Hey, let's eat together."

Instead, he walked over to Dunbakel.

Dunbakel was gently grilling seasoned jerky on the stone instead of drinking.

"Mmm, good."

The special seasoning kept the jerky tender. Dunbakel thought it was the best thing she had eaten while camping.

Enkrid ate with much the same thought.

Crang took one piece and gave a firm nod.

If he became king, he felt like he ought to reward whoever made this jerky.

After seeing the storm, old memories came back to Ragna.

There had been a storm like this back then too.

The rain had poured so hard he could not see a step ahead.

The falling sheets of rain had struck his body so heavily it felt like they could leave bruises.

There had been a day like that.

Recalling some moment from the past, Ragna turned toward the direction where he had been born and raised.

Using the stars to judge direction, he looked north.

"What are you doing?"

Enkrid came over and asked. Ragna's mood looked unusual.

Ragna answered plainly.

"I'm looking north."

Toward where his clan and his land once were.

Toward the north, where his own people lived.

Was this longing, regret, or hatred.

As he stared toward home, it almost felt like he could sense them somewhere beyond.

"That's south."

Enkrid said it. Ragna quietly turned his head.

That ended the trip down memory lane. They had moved through wind and rain, and he was hungry.

It was time to fill his stomach.

"Seriously, don't even go piss by yourself."

Seeing that, Rem threw in a comment.

Ragna acted as if he had not heard it.

Night deepened, and eventually it was time for everyone to sleep.

"Jaxon, first watch."

They set a rough watch order.

Starting with Jaxon, then the whip guard, Rem, Enkrid, and Ragna.

Even if the enemy tried tricks with spells, it should be fine.

Esther's eyes were shining like that...

Grrr, the leopard had already fallen asleep beside Enkrid.

Enkrid pulled the leopard into his arms.

If anything happened, she would wake on her own.

Watching that, Crang spoke.

"A mage who turns into a leopard."

The whip guard still flinched whenever he looked at Esther.

First he was shocked by the transformation, then shocked by her looks.

Even so, he did not look like his convictions were wavering.

'Not bad.'

He was someone beside Crang. Of course he was decent.

He looked uneasy about taking a break, but he did not speak up.

Was it because trust in Enkrid had suddenly overflowed?

Seeing one battle might do that, but more than that, it was respect.

Enkrid had proved his ability, and his lord respected him, so he did too.

He really was not a bad man.

Setting stray thoughts aside, Crang's question reached him.

"How is being a knight?"

"It's fun."

"Fun?"

He asked if it was all right, and got "fun" as the answer. Enkrid nodded.

He had stuck branches into the ground at an angle and hung clothes on them to dry.

Jaxon stirred the campfire with a long branch.

Crackle, crackle, half-dry branches burned and spat sparks. The sparks scattered into the air and vanished.

Vanishing sparks, rising flame, and the comfort that came as the dampness left their bodies.

Crang and Enkrid sat facing each other with the fire between them.

Beyond that comforting firelight, Crang's eyes looked red in the glow.

Enkrid looked straight into those eyes.

Crang looked straight back.

Holding that gaze, Crang opened his mouth.

"Why are you helping me?"

Enkrid had called him a friend and looked him in the eye as he spoke of his dream.

But nowhere in that had he said, Help me.

Crang asked in earnest. Once he made up his mind and spoke, his words carried force.

It felt as if there were compulsion in his voice.

Was this what Dragonkin speech-magic felt like.

Did he have dragonkin blood somewhere in his lineage.

It felt like pressure demanding an answer, oppression carried through words.

'Interesting.'

Enkrid felt something close to the sensation of being intimidated.

Still, this was not enough to trigger the Will of Refusal.

This was not a technique built on true Will.

More than that, Enkrid was not pushed back by Crang's force.

"I heard you're too valuable to die here."

So he answered calmly.

"Even if you don't help me, I won't die."

Crang said it without missing a breath.

What kind of confidence was that.

Even so, Enkrid did not feel like denying it.

Even if it took a detour, Crang would have found a way to survive.

If he had not had at least that much in him, he would never have survived this long.

Before helping Crang, after deciding to help him, and even on the night he said the same to Kraiss, Enkrid had kept thinking.

'Why am I helping him.'

Because he wanted to fight? Because if he stayed close, assassins and every other bastard would keep charging in?

Fighting spirit was one part of what made Enkrid who he was. That was true.

But that was not all. There was something deeper, something in him that made him step in without hesitation.

It was because he wanted to become a knight.

A knight was one who protected.

Then what should he protect.

He protected those behind him.

Then who would he place behind him.

Enkrid did not serve Crang. He had never sworn such an oath.

Still.

He knew very well that Crang was not someone without value to protect right now.

"Worth protecting or not."

Even against force close to oppression, Enkrid did not yield.

He overcame it easily.

"I still don't know."

Then he continued what he had cut short.

Because he did not know, he helped. Because he did not know, he lent a hand. Would protecting him once change much?

He did not know. He would have to watch and see.

That was all there was to it. Because he did not know, he was helping to learn who Crang was.

Across the campfire, Crang smiled again. Not a loud laugh like before, but a deep smile.

Enkrid remained expressionless.

"A knight who chooses a king."

Neither of them was a king yet, and neither was a knight yet.

"To be chosen by someone like that, that itself must be the beginning of my king's path."

The guard frowned when he heard Enkrid's words, but quickly returned to his usual expression.

Judging by what his lord was saying, there was not even a speck of discomfort in his heart.

He was speaking with sincerity.

He was speaking of the beginning of a king's path.

If that beginning was the man before him.

If that was right, then he only had to watch.

He had already made his own choice.

"And I also want to keep doing things that Count Molsen would hate."

Enkrid admitted his small personal grudge too. He had not forgotten how that man played games instead of sending reinforcements.

"That Count Molsen?"

"Yeah. A man like a wild dog's dick."

Enkrid used refined wording to say something vulgar. If that was not skill, what was.

Crang chuckled this time.

"A wild dog's dick."

He thought it fit perfectly.

That night talk was just a light comedy.

Rem, Ragna, Jaxon, and Dunbakel said watching the two of them talk had been entertaining, but that was all.

The next day, Crang's escort set out again, and this time they ran into a pack of Demon Creatures.

Kyaat!

Starting with Man-Faced Hounds, it was a full assorted gift set of Demon Creatures.

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