WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS
Translator: Hydrogen B
Editor: Abstract
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES
Chapter 393: Two Fists Instead of a Club
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The man who had become a Lycanthrope was named Ronald.
Even as a human, Ronald had been a degenerate who treated murder and dismemberment as a hobby.
"It's fun."
He never even denied that he enjoyed it.
So his ending was only natural. Ronald was hunted by bounty hunters and driven to the brink of death. That was when he met Count Molsen and received the power of a Demon Creature.
Ronald called it luck.
The power of a Demon Creature boiled inside him and surged into his arms and legs. His pounding heart pumped blood through his entire body.
He was overflowing with strength. It spilled over, and he had to do something with it. Right now, he wanted to tear someone's limbs off and eat their guts. He wanted to drink blood. He wanted to bite down on bones with his molars and crush them.
His urges churned and surged, plain to see in his eyes.
"Khhhhh-wooooooo!"
Laughter and a howl mixed together.
It was a beastly cry he could not hold in. Ahead, he saw a line of soldiers standing their ground. They were pretending not to be afraid.
In front of them stood a large man, one arm raised, drawn back behind him.
He looked tough, but that was fine. Ronald's sharp fangs could rip and split anything.
He would chew him to pieces.
Then he would enter the city, pick out only young women from those hiding and watching in fear, kill them, and gnaw on their flesh.
"Kihit!"
He swallowed his anticipation, raised his claws, and lunged.
Whoosh.
Wind slammed into his face. It was too fast to react to. Ronald was far stronger than before, so he was faster too, but to Audin it made no difference.
Boom!
It sounded like two wagons colliding head-on at full speed.
A thunderous blast erupted through the Lycanthropes' howls. The bastard's shattered skull burst apart in every direction.
Audin halted in a stance, left hand open like a blade, right hand thrust forward.
Dark red liquid dripped from the studded leather gauntlet on his right hand.
The reason he normally used a club was to avoid using both fists.
But now the situation was different.
"If we can't stop them, we're finished."
Had Kraiss not said so?
Everyone behind him, everyone in the city called Border Guard, would die.
There was another reason to show no mercy with his hands.
His enemies were scum who had been born human but chose the life of a Demon Creature.
The Lord had said that if humans abandoned being human, the only place left for them was by His side alone.
Beg forgiveness by the Lord's side.
Receive judgment by the Lord's side.
Those words were written in holy scripture.
"My left hand is a blade, and my right hand is a rock."
Audin muttered. He moved without breaking stance and kept reciting.
"My Father watches over me, and told me to place no mercy in these two hands."
Drunk on bloodlust, the Lycanthrope pack charged without fear. They had lost human reason.
The one leading the front had already been blasted away into a lump of gore, but even seeing that, their maddened minds could not process it.
Audin advanced as if to block their path.
Step by step, he stamped forward. His stride was like a war chariot, ready to smash and crush anything in front of it.
He kept moving straight ahead.
"Once they were human, but now..."
While praying, he struck a charging one down with his left hand. His left hand was a blade. As his Hand Blade drew a diagonal line, the eyepatch-wearing Lycanthrope's head split along that line.
Blood sprayed out. It was dead, but its momentum remained, and it still toppled toward Audin.
Audin pivoted lightly on his left foot and slipped aside. The headless Lycanthrope crashed down and skidded.
Boom!
Before the headless body had even finished sliding, another blast rang out.
Audin's right hand had struck the chest of the one charging right behind it.
From the impact point, chunks of organs, bone, flesh, and blood sprayed out in all directions.
Where his right fist punched through and withdrew, a hole remained that no one could believe had been made by a human hand.
"And now I send up those who have become Demon Creatures. Reveal their sins and pass judgment upon them."
Before finishing the prayer, Audin swung his left hand three times and his right hand four times.
Three Lycanthropes had parts of their bodies severed, and four had parts crushed.
He had just finished the prayer.
A husky voice came up on Audin's left.
"Forgiveness and judgment belong to the Lord."
It was Teresa, holding her shield level as she continued the prayer.
She drew her left arm back, then thrust it forward.
The shield cut through the air with a heavy whoosh and flew. It was not faster than an arrow, but for such a large shield that covered half Teresa's body, it moved at a shocking speed.
The edge of that flying shield split open a Lycanthrope's waist.
Its sharpened rim, combined with Teresa's strength, was no different from a masterwork blade.
When she pulled the line, the shield snapped back into her hand.
In that instant, another rushed in from the side, but even as she reeled the shield back, Teresa brought the flat of her sword down on the attacker's crown.
Crack!
The power of a half-giant detonated against the Lycanthrope's skull.
Crunch. The skull broke apart, and a severed tongue and broken teeth, all soaked red, flew out. Dark red blood poured from the head, crushed to pulp.
The new commander of the heavy infantry and several others saw it.
They knew what they were seeing, and still they were stunned.
Is that human?
It was their first time seeing Audin fight in earnest.
Can a human do that with both hands?
The gauntlets on both hands had burst and shattered, but he ignored it and kept swinging his right fist and left hand.
He looked like a grinder. The charging Lycanthrope pack was pulped in an instant. They were sliced, blown apart, and crushed into moving lumps of meat. Beside him, Teresa moved with shield and sword in hand.
Fifty Lycanthropes were a force that would strain most cities just to face.
That threat was torn, broken, and shattered by just two people.
One of the standing army commanders watching shook his head and shouted.
"All units, chaaaarge!"
Push when you seize momentum.
That was the order from above. The bastard called Big Eyes who had delivered it emphasized it hard enough to make their ears ring.
"No matter what you see, don't panic. Move forward. Keep formation and push as is."
"Even if the enemy retreats?"
"Hold formation. That's what matters. We chase after that!"
That lunatic Kraiss talked too much. But talkative or not, the commander followed his orders to the letter.
Everything had been carried out with Lord Graham's approval.
More than anything, this was about defending the city where they had been born and raised.
More than half the troops on the front line were people whose hometown, whose whole lives, were in Border Guard.
Kraiss had deliberately sent out only those people.
The force advanced without major disorder. Proof of well-trained troops.
Naturally, the commander leading Count Molsen's army saw it too.
What kind of battle starts with fistfighting, without even a single arrow, and ends with a disciplined advance?
What is this?
This fight was far outside anything he considered common sense.
The man Count Molsen had sent was not an exceptional commander, but he was competent enough.
Here, he made the best choice available.
"Retreat! Fall back!"
Their prepared blade had snapped, so they needed to regroup. He pulled the army back and fled.
Exactly what Kraiss wanted.
This was the limit. Push further and inflict fatal losses? Impossible.
Only a tiny fraction of Count Molsen's prepared forces had come here.
So buying time was enough.
Watching the retreating enemy forces, Kraiss thought:
I need to know what the hell is going on.
Had the Count already swallowed the royal palace?
Probably not. If he had, there would be no reason to hit Border Guard. This had been closer to a surprise strike.
If I'd taken the palace, I'd demand oaths of loyalty first.
That offer would be even more effective under siege.
Nothing beats cutting down the other side's options.
But the enemy had not done that.
So this is retaliation.
Retaliation against who?
No need to think hard.
Who inside this city had ties to the Count?
Lord Graham?
He had only gritted his teeth and declared he would defend the city.
Kraiss had good instincts too.
Could this be tied to the captain?
A small suspicion, but one he was almost certain of.
Nothing in this world is absolute, so he could not call it guaranteed, but the odds were high.
This is going to be a headache.
Anyone could see it: civil war, real war. And what had the Count put on display?
Fifty Lycanthropes.
Humans suddenly turning into wolves. If that sight did not make you piss yourself, you were not human.
By Kraiss's standards, that made Enkrid and a few others not human.
Monsters.
If they saw a pack like this, they would not cower. They would probably rush in, excited.
Or they might just find it annoying and kill only the ones that came at them.
Either way, the Count had openly revealed dangerous strength.
Why?
Because this was not his hidden ace.
Which meant:
That's not the end of it.
Kraiss had seen humans turn into Demon Creatures before while dealing with the Black Blade Bandits. He knew.
This force looked like a declaration that Count Molsen himself stood behind it.
And his territorial army was highly trained too.
Even if they were not marching shoulder to shoulder with Lycanthropes, should it not have been shocking just to advance with them? Yet they withdrew in silence. Their formation barely wavered. It looked like they had prepared for moments exactly like this.
No one knew what they had hidden in reserve, so pursuit could wait.
No, they must not pursue.
His head knew it, and his gut said the same.
Fortunately, the enemy forces withdrew without hurry.
"Giant Siblings!"
Someone shouted Audin and Teresa's nickname.
Audin silently shook blood from his hands and removed his ruined gauntlets.
Compared to what those two hands had done, his fists had only a few scratches.
More than forty Lycanthrope corpses lay dead before them.
The remaining dozen or so had run past the two of them, but the newly organized long-spear shield unit stopped them.
They did not panic.
They kept their distance with long spears and hid behind shields.
It was squad-level teamwork, moving as one.
A small-unit battle formation often used by the Mercenary King of the Eastern Continent, introduced by a recently joined commander from a mercenary background.
That hedgehog-like squad calmly stabbed each werewolf one by one, drove them back, and killed them.
They were not at Audin and Teresa's level, but there were still plenty skilled enough to kill one werewolf alone.
So the victory was only natural.
Kraiss expected this battle to spread word of Border Guard's military strength far and wide.
Azpen or whoever, they'll all be analyzing our strength.
They could not block every watching eye and listening ear, so news that Border Guard was no easy target would spread quickly.
Would that help in a situation like this?
Of course it would.
Having strength is better than having none. Obvious.
After taking a breath, Kraiss prepared the next step.
The Count's target is the royal palace.
Swallowing Border Guard would have been nice for him, but now he had learned that would not be easy. Predicting his next move toward the palace was as easy as taking candy from a child.
So they had to prepare for that here as well.
Kraiss told Graham all of it.
Graham nodded.
"I'll send the fastest bird to the royal palace."
After a battle that ended almost as soon as it started, Kraiss sensed that a brutal civil war lay ahead.
He could not fully read a man like Count Molsen, but if it were him...
I would never move without confidence.
The Count had moved because he believed he could win.
To him, probing Border Guard had probably been nothing more than a light prank.
"What the hell have you been out there doing anyway?"
Kraiss muttered to himself. In that moment, he found himself unusually curious about what his captain was up to.
* * *
"What is this?"
He had fallen asleep, then opened his eyes. Enkrid looked at the unfamiliar objects set on the boat. A table. Chairs.
The ferry looked twice as big as before.
"I thought we could talk. You and I."
There were two chairs. The Boatman sitting across from him spoke, then pushed back his hood.
Inside, Enkrid saw the same gray skin and purple eyes as the split wasteland he had seen before.
The lamp was gone. Instead, the Boatman's two eyes shone with the same light as a lamp.
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