WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES

Chapter 372: Squire Ropord

= = =

Crang went over his mistake.

The operation had been full of openings from the start. So the mistake itself was not what mattered.

What mattered was knowing what they needed right now, and confirming what had to be done.

So he did exactly that.

What they needed immediately was time, and they needed something that could buy it.

"Marcus Baisar."

"Yes, sir."

"Can you get out and call for help?"

"...I think I have to."

Crang was trapped in his assigned reception room. The small private reception room was what the royal palace called an outer annex chamber.

It was where guests stayed when they came to the palace, not a place built with defensive features.

He was not yet a Grand Duke, not yet anything, so one reception room connected to a bedroom was his entire space.

And now he was trapped inside it.

The instant Crang finished speaking, Matthew, his whip escort, hurled a stool at the window.

With a sharp crash, the window shattered.

Matthew used the whip handle to break and clear the remaining shards.

The window was wide. Big enough for one person to get out.

"My escorts should be outside."

Marcus said, walking to the window. It was three stories up. Not low, but with that large garden tree in front, if he grabbed branches on the way down, he would not die.

Still seated with his arms crossed, Crang did not feel mentally tangled. If anything, his thoughts had become simple and clear.

Viscount Mernes had raised a rebellion.

A mad move with no way back.

Still, it was a strong move.

Crang admitted it. The Viscount Mernes he had thought was half an idiot was actually sharp and quick-minded.

Use every means I have here?

A move that pressed a razor-edged dagger right under his throat.

Everything Crang had done since coming to the palace for the Grand Duke appointment ceremony had been for one thing only.

It was simple and clear.

Gather up the trash and clear it out.

That was also how he solved the problem the Queen had given him.

"Bring all the ministers to your side."

Crang muttered it. At some point he had raised one knee and hugged it, speaking low enough for only his own ears.

Turn that around, and it meant this.

If they were not on his side, gather them and wipe them out.

If finding them one by one and persuading them was impossible.

Then he just had to clear all of them out.

And when he did, the other side united into one. The factions became one under Viscount Mernes and came at him.

I thought the factions would keep fighting each other and only look this way later.

The reason no longer mattered right now anyway.

This had always been a fight that needed a gamble, and Crang had thrown his gamble. The result was coming out now.

"I'm going."

Marcus threw himself out the window.

Crang sprang up, leaned out, and watched Marcus go.

He grabbed a branch right in front of him to slow the fall, dropped, and rolled.

The breakfall that spread the impact was clean.

He was a trained soldier too. The moment he hit the ground, men guarding the annex charged him.

Gold helmets, golden spearheads, Royal Guard.

The ones who should have been at the Queen's side were here.

"Kill him!"

"Traitor!"

Who was the traitor here?

Spearheads lunged at Marcus.

Marcus rolled again across the ground. Leaves and grass stuck to his cheek and back. He rolled, stood, and put the tree to his back. His shirt was torn ragged at the forearm.

After steadying his breath, Marcus flicked his eyes left and right.

His own escorts were nowhere in sight. They had to be in the first-floor lobby of the annex. They would come soon.

Thinking that, Marcus pulled a short dagger from his waist.

"Come on then, you bastards."

His eyes kept moving left and right as he spoke. He showed his resolve. Whoever came first would die somehow.

"Encircle them in a ring."

A Royal Guard commander in a dark ash-gray helmet appeared and gave the order.

No one rushed in.

Instead, the surrounding Royal Guard leveled their spears in a perfect circle.

A flawless encirclement.

Damn it.

In this state, simultaneous thrusts were the Royal Guard's specialty.

To block ten spearheads thrusting in one breath, at one timing, with a single dagger, you would need to be at least a squire.

Cold sweat ran down Marcus's back.

"Is that the right path!"

Crang shouted from the window, head thrust outside. He was isolated and cornered, but his dignity and authority had not shrunk.

His authority and dignity came from his character, temperament, and actions.

He put one foot up on the sill and showed his body. If an arrow flew, he could die on the spot, but hiding his body and only raising his voice would help no one here.

One waiting Royal Guard saw that and subtly raised his spear, then switched to a reverse grip.

It was a distance he could throw and hit.

The gray-helmet commander saw it and waved his hand.

Wait, that signal said. The soldier frowned inside his helmet.

"It's a signal."

"Shut up. Defy orders and you'll be executed on the spot."

At those words, the soldier's eyes flashed, but in the end he lowered his spear.

The man in the dark ash-gray helmet raised his head toward Crang.

"Then what is the right path?"

He asked. He stopped with his spear in hand, and his men gathered by his side. Not even ten of them.

Inside the palace, everything was already chaos, with screams and fighting breaking out everywhere.

"No one else decides right and wrong for you."

Crang spoke slowly and clearly.

What was right for men like the Royal Guard?

Protecting the royal family. The man in the dark ash-gray helmet wrestled with himself.

What was the right path?

In his sight was Crang, hair whipping in the wind.

He risked his life just to buy a brief moment, even though death would end everything.

For what?

To save Marcus Baisar, the man Viscount Mernes had branded a traitor.

Did that action mean anything?

Would buying a little time change anything?

He did not know. This was not action born from calculation.

He was doing it because he believed it was right.

That was how it looked. At least that was all he could see.

He had seen Crang, met him, spoken with him. That had surely affected him too.

He had not known he would make this choice at this moment either, but he chose a side.

"...Unit, reverse. Turn your spears."

"Are you insane!"

The soldier who had held his spear in reverse shouted, but the man in the dark ash-gray helmet stayed silent.

He had chosen to stand here to protect the Queen. He had believed this place was more honorable than becoming part of a knight order.

But what was it now?

A place scrambling to protect the lives of a few petty nobles?

A position where he had to raise his spear for them?

He did not want that.

To be honest, he wanted to say he did not give a damn, then smash their faces in.

Soon the Royal Guard split into two groups.

They had been a divided group from the start. Spearheads flew toward the man in the dark ash-gray helmet.

It was the same one who had frowned earlier.

He twisted his body sideways and narrowed the target area the spear was aiming at.

He dodged, knocked it aside with his own spear, then stepped his left foot forward and brought his spear down like a club.

Whoom, crack.

"Argh!"

The subordinate who raised his arm to block screamed. One blow broke his arm, and as he retreated, others filled the spot.

"Have you lost your mind?"

Another soldier asked.

"Looks like it."

He answered flatly, and his followers opened a path so Marcus could go.

"Thank you."

Marcus said, then broke out. The dark ash-gray helmet did not answer. He simply guarded Marcus's rear.

Marcus did not look back. He got out, secured a horse, and rode. But the danger was not over.

He had to keep shaking pursuers off.

Two of his escorts caught up. One died, and the other stayed behind to buy time.

At the end, even the madman from the west latched on. Marcus had no room to check who it was.

"Where are you rushing off to?"

He fled fast on horseback, but the bastard ran after him without even riding. Fast. It felt like he would be caught any second.

A spear thrown by that man gouged flesh out of Marcus's forearm.

No time to treat it, he drove the horse harder. Blood drops scattered at full speed.

"Run, you're my lifeline."

Marcus soothed the horse and raced for Andrew's mansion. That was the final bastion.

Right now, not even his own Baisar Family could be called his side.

* * *

Crang shouted in isolation after everyone had gone.

"Do you know who my friend is? The lone shining star of the Border Guard, Azpen's enemy, the madman Enkrid armed with demonic power."

No one answered. Matthew asked:

"...Will that work?"

"Right? It's not working yet, right?"

Even though his calculation had failed, Crang smiled. He grinned wide at Matthew's words and replied.

"Open the passage."

At least he had secured a secret route to escape through. A slanted hole leading downward.

That too was the Queen's consideration.

Maybe I just need to hold out for half a day.

Then he could clear out the trash that had gathered. In other words, the other side had moved half a day faster than he expected.

Pulling this crap in broad daylight.

Crang knew by instinct.

If he was to live, and if this was to succeed, he needed a variable.

The other side had prepared a variable too, but Crang had prepared one as well.

Now it was time to see this through to the end.

* * *

"That one."

Rem reacted.

The severity of Marcus's wound on horseback, and the appearance of the man chasing him.

The instant he saw it, Enkrid opened his mouth.

"Kill him."

Rem was already going to hunt that bastard down anyway. The one chasing Marcus was the Undying Madman.

The one who had fled before had shown his face here.

Rem launched himself off the wall.

The pursuer chasing Marcus instantly reversed. He kicked off the ground and changed direction at once, jumping back.

The spearhead flying through the air turned and followed him. There was not an inch of hesitation in that retreat. Rem darted after him.

The two of them ran over bluestone faster than a horse.

"Kyaaaah!"

A woman by the roadside screamed without thinking.

Her lover, or maybe husband, saw it, grabbed her into his arms, and pressed himself to the wall of what looked like a shop.

In that brief moment, both figures disappeared from sight.

Rem vanished between buildings, so Enkrid could not follow by eye.

Enkrid looked at Marcus, who had reached right in front of him.

Still on horseback, bleeding heavily from one arm and gasping, Marcus spoke with an urgency Enkrid had never seen before.

"Help me."

Enkrid judged it was time to move.

He was about to jump down from the wall at once when someone shouted from behind.

"If you run from here, the problem will only get worse!"

It was a squire. Enkrid answered over his shoulder.

"I'm going to the royal palace."

The squire knew whose hands the palace was currently in.

Going now meant staking your life.

For what?

The squire frowned. His brow tightened, the bridge of his nose wrinkled.

Suddenly thoughts surged through him. Why was he here, what was he here for, whose orders had put him here, did he have any will of his own?

He remembered what the squire who taught him had said.

"Right and wrong is not the point. Where your will stands is the point."

He had been recognized for sword talent and became a squire, but people always pointed out his personality.

"So what do you think?"

Even when picking a lunch menu, he tended to defer to his comrades' wishes.

His nature was to be pulled this way and that.

That too had led him to this position.

It was because he had served other people's will, not his own. He still had the comfort of saying he moved by orders, but...

Was that enough? Was he satisfied?

He did not know.

Why am I here.

At Enkrid's abrupt line, spoken by the very person he was supposed to arrest, the squire found his resolve.

A strange feeling moved his lips.

"An army gathered by Viscount Mernes's forces will advance soon."

His speech rose in formality before he even realized it. Enkrid looked back and blinked.

Why was he telling Enkrid that?

"The man leading them, after gathering every faction, is no less than a squire from a knight order."

"What are you saying right now?"

Beside them, the Security Captain said in a rushed tone, grabbing the squire's arm.

The squire calmly shook that hand off and continued.

"Please help us."

Enkrid scratched his head.

Someone who came to arrest him was asking him for help.

Still, it was hard to turn away when he spoke that sincerely.

The squire lowered his head.

The South Gate Guard Captain in the feathered hat beside him stepped forward too.

"If this continues, even the capital's citizens will be badly hurt."

Would the army that advanced into the capital really stay quietly garrisoned?

And those forces were patched together from faction scraps.

Among them would be blades who sold themselves for gold coins, and many who were blind with bloodlust. The nobles had no room to be picky now, so notorious men were surely mixed in too.

For the citizens' safety.

To protect the capital.

The two men stepped forward and bowed.

"Ragna, can you stop them?"

Ragna did not ask why bother. He just looked into Enkrid's eyes.

"Go stop them. Dunbakel, go with him."

If it was Ragna and Dunbakel, they could block the elite troops pushing in from the front.

"What's your name?"

Enkrid asked the squire.

"Ropord."

"Go gather the remaining troops and block the incoming enemy. Hold with the city gate at your back, and anyone who asks for duels will be handled by my squad."

If he saved Crang and then got surrounded by the enemy army pouring in, that would be the end too.

Enkrid grasped the situation both by instinct and by reason.

The sense that had been forged when he repeated this same day hundreds of times among enemy forces and broke out shone now.

By instinct, he knew what had to be done.

Block the external army and clean up the inside.

If Crang was not thoughtless, what he needed was time.

Enkrid understood where he had to be now.

"Let's go."

Ragna said it after hearing Enkrid's order.

It was not a request, it was a command. Ragna and Dunbakel turned without a single complaint.

Nearby, Marcus panted, his skin gone pale blue.

Jaxon came to Enkrid's side.

As they vaulted the wall, the remaining troops just stood there, heads turning left and right.

Should they follow Ragna?

Or stop Enkrid, who was getting farther away?

They saw the collapsed Security Commissioner, and beside him a Security Captain dripping sweat.

"Didn't you raise your spears to protect the capital? At least I did. Those staying here, stay."

Squire Ropord said it.

Everyone has a moment when they grow and awaken.

That moment was now for Ropord.

The trigger was Enkrid's one line that he was going to the royal palace.

"Let's go."

Ropord followed Ragna first, then the South Gate Guard Captain behind him, then soldiers who had already changed their minds joined after them. The remaining Security Captain kept cursing under his breath, damn it, hell, then said:

"Let's go carry out our duty."

For all that, the words sounded decent.

Of course, Andrew stepped up too.

If he went to the palace alone now, he could do nothing, so he chose to help hold the wall. When he told his five trainees to stay behind.

"We trained like we were dying too."

The freckled female trainee said.

The five trainees moved behind Andrew, and when even Mack tried to follow, Andrew shook his head.

"You're a butler now. Guard this place."

After saying that, the six of them joined the group that had already set out first.

At the front, Ragna staggered forward while Dunbakel walked beside him.

"This looked more fun, right?"

Ragna nodded like it was nothing.

Walking nearby, Squire Ropord quietly shook his head.

Fun? This was no time for that. He walked a bit, then spoke. They were going the wrong way.

"We need to go to the west gate."

Ropord said.

"Hm, this way?"

"No, that's north."

Ropord answered the swordsman at the front, then took the lead himself.

Apparently, the swordsman's sense of direction was a complete mess.

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