WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES

Chapter 394: Dark Dawn

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There was nothing left for him to do at the royal palace, and Crang was about to get busy.

So it was time for Enkrid to head back too.

Right before they parted, he saw Matthew dragging one leg after Crang, only to get cursed out and sent off for treatment.

"Wouldn't it be better to get treated at the palace?"

The Marquis of Okto asked Enkrid that as he watched Matthew and turned to leave.

He was the kind of man who knew how to look after people carefully and thoroughly.

He also had a good eye.

If he had not, he would never have stood on Crang's side.

"I'm fine."

Enkrid declined. His right wrist would heal quickly enough.

As long as he ate and rested properly, it would.

There was no reason that had to happen inside the palace.

He could set a creaking joint himself, Rem and Ragna could handle this level of first aid, and above all, Esther was there.

"If I lay my hands on you, you'll recover quickly."

Had she not said it with complete confidence?

She said it right after that clone, or whatever it was, of Count Molsen died, while checking Enkrid's body.

"If you were the kind of man who'd die from this, you'd have died long ago."

That was what she added next. She looked oddly satisfied. Enkrid did not know what she meant, but he did not press it. She did not seem like she would answer anyway, and Enkrid was already exhausted enough.

He was not about to collapse and die right now, but he had crossed several of today's loops, beaten up Eisia, survived the hands of the Flow-Breaking Junior Knight, then watched Count Molsen and Crang argue.

Trying to explain everything that happened in between, one by one, would have made his mouth hurt.

In short, he fought, killed, and ran.

His legs were not shaking, but he wanted to eat, wash up, and rest.

His body smelled foul. Blood and sweat had mixed together.

When he stepped outside, he saw Rem, who had been chasing some idiot.

Right in front of the palace, next to Odd-Eye. Rem was so covered in blood he looked like he had bathed in it.

Enkrid swept his gaze over Rem's body, and Rem said,

"Yeah, I ended up like this chasing some bastard who hit, ran, and kept running."

There was clear dissatisfaction in his tone. Looking closer, Enkrid noticed his balance was slightly off. His ankle was hurt. He was not limping, but he was injured.

"The bastard had one last hidden trick at the end."

Rem answered again even though no one asked. He still was not smiling.

So he did not feel satisfied.

He looked like he had chased that man because of some personal tie.

The man had looked western too.

"Getting smacked around because your skills are lacking?"

Ragna asked from behind in a serious tone. He even sounded worried, so of course it was mockery.

Only then did Rem smile. It was nowhere close to a happy smile.

"Keep this up and you're really gonna die."

"Hm? Can't hear you. Sounds like it came from a guy who got beaten up somewhere."

"Want me to split your earholes with an axe?"

"Hm? Can't hear you. Sounds like it came from a guy with a busted ankle."

"Fine then. Looks like I really need to use this on you."

Rem spoke and reached into his clothes for something. Enkrid stepped between them.

"Enough."

It was the usual. Still, he had to admit both of them had gotten much better with their mouths.

Since when did those two start talking this well?

At first, both of them used their hands before words.

He remembered Ragna taking a bite of an apple and getting lost.

He remembered Rem walking up while sharpening an axe blade instead of speaking.

"You two really got a lot better at talking."

He said what he felt.

"...Who are you to say that?"

Rem shot back.

Ragna blinked a few times and said,

"What are you talking about?"

On the way back, Enkrid told them Ragna had really taken a shortcut, and Rem was genuinely shocked to hear it.

It was a shift in perspective.

Ragna called a place with no road a road, fixed his eyes on the palace, and cut straight across, so yes, that was a shortcut.

"Bastard. You really improved."

Rem said it in admiration, and Ragna lifted his chin a little.

"Finding shortcuts has always been my specialty. Better than my swordsmanship."

"Are you insane?"

Then they started bickering again. Enkrid calmed them enough and arrived at Andrew's house, where Dunbakel, Andrew, and the trainees were gathered.

No one had died.

"What was that? You just suddenly ran off."

Dunbakel said it to Ragna. So they had to hear the shortcut story one more time.

Was finding a road more rewarding than killing a junior knight of the order?

To Enkrid, it looked that way.

Dunbakel seemed more surprised by the part about finding a road too.

Dunbakel probably did not care about what happened in the palace anyway. She only nodded with tired eyes.

Around then Jaxon returned, gave a glance that said he was back, and acted like usual. In other words, he stayed silent.

"How did it go?"

"It ended well."

He answered at least because Enkrid asked.

"So you're curious about a shortcut to the palace?"

Ragna spoke to him. Jaxon ignored him.

With help from servants and maids, Enkrid washed up, reset the bone in his right wrist, and put on a splint.

When he came out after finishing, Esther approached in human form and grabbed his wrist.

A strong heat flowed from her touch.

"Endure it."

She said it, and Enkrid did.

As he endured the heat, exhaustion washed over him.

Nothing mattered more than proper rest.

Eat well and rest well, that was Renewed Body.

Enkrid shared a room with Rem.

Then he fell asleep without saying much.

Instinct told him he would sleep so deeply he would not even dream.

That was why he felt a little thrown off.

The dream came immediately, with the Boatman, the black river water, and the ferryboat.

"Sit."

The Boatman said.

The ferryboat was several times wider than before.

So this could change too?

The table and chairs looked like they had been carved from raw wood. They were connected to the floor of the ferryboat.

They looked like they had risen from the floor itself. Was that surprising? Yes, it was.

But that was all. A little surprise, a small sense of, so this is possible too?

The boat still rocked, the Boatman was still there, and the black river was unchanged.

The ferryboat's size had changed, but it did not feel like some huge difference.

What mattered more was the Boatman's attitude.

There was not even a cup of tea, so what did the table mean?

It meant this could be a place for conversation.

The Boatman sat across from him first. Enkrid took a few steps across the widened ferry and sat down.

It was hard. Even after thinking twice, he could not call that seat comfortable.

"Giants have monstrous strength, Frogs have the power of regeneration, Beastfolk have superior voluntary control over their bodies, dwarves are born with dexterity and stamina, and Dragonkin are born with exceptional combat sense and words forged by will."

Most people would have found this hard to understand, but Enkrid understood most of it.

There was a time he thought about talent, pushed forward through effort, and tried everything.

Back when he believed he needed theory, he dug into all sorts of things.

It had not helped much, of course.

That was why he knew this talk.

A giant's strength.

A Frog's regeneration.

A Beastfolk's physical ability.

A dwarf's stamina.

A Dragonkin's word power.

"Then what do humans have?"

The Boatman asked at the end.

Enkrid knew the answer.

"They have potential and possibility."

"Correct."

Violet light poured from the Boatman's black eyes. A faint glow lit the table and the area around it like a lamp.

No, at some point, a lamp was already sitting on the table.

"Humans can go anywhere."

Was that what he wanted to say?

The Boatman continued.

"That is why they do not know their place."

Their eyes met. The Boatman recognized Enkrid's growth again.

Before, this was a man who could not properly listen. Now he met his gaze. Now they could talk.

"So this is my gift, my advice, and words spoken on a whim."

Enkrid did not open his mouth, so the Boatman kept talking. He raised his right hand and spread his palm, blocking Enkrid's view.

That alone made it feel like a huge wall had appeared in front of him.

In reality it was only a gray, pebble-like palm, but what he felt was different.

Then the Boatman's voice overlapped itself, and dozens of lines stabbed into Enkrid one by one.

"It is impossible."

"You cannot escape."

"Where can you go after leaving this place?"

"If you believe you can keep moving forward like now every time, that is arrogance."

"That is the arrogance of potential and possibility."

"Humans are arrogant. Give up. This is my consideration. Greater pain is coming."

"The wall will rise higher."

"You can stop here."

With the Boatman's words, Enkrid saw visions.

In those visions, he saw himself writhing in pain.

He wandered alone, unable to find direction, lost.

He repeated suffering there for life. Today had no end.

It was a today with no one and not even the smallest change.

That today repeated forever. Not despairing there was beyond what humans could do.

The instant he saw it, chills ran over his whole body. Fear surged. The terror filling his chest could swallow a person whole.

He saw another vision too.

In that one, Enkrid lost everyone every single time.

Everyone around him died. He could not stop it. He could not reach them. Something beyond human power killed everything around him.

Even so, he could do nothing.

With his arms and legs gone, he could only watch.

Then another vision followed.

A huge fireball fell from above.

It landed and burned everything. Body, will, ground, air.

Even then he did not burn to death at once. In the flames, Enkrid suffocated and died.

He could tell just by looking. Pain like that was not something you could endure by gritting your teeth.

None of it was something a sword could solve.

"Stop here. No matter what kind of today it is, you can live satisfied."

Was this persuasion? Or was it, as he said, advice, whim, and gift?

He did not know. But even if it was a gift, nothing would change.

If it was something he did not want, even a gift could be refused. That was the kind of man Enkrid was.

"If I lose my way, I keep going until I find it."

Only then did he open his mouth. That first line led to more.

"If I lose my arms and legs, I'll bite the sword grip if I have to."

"If I can't avoid it, I'll split it apart."

You cannot avoid calamity. Then he would become calamity himself.

Enkrid said he would move forward even like that.

Now mattered more than some unknown threat.

He would not kneel early out of fear and hesitate. As he always had, he would do it again.

The Boatman said nothing more. He only watched.

Then the chair vanished without warning.

Enkrid dropped hard onto his backside with a thud. In reality he would have reflexively tightened his thigh muscles and held himself up, but this place did not work that way.

The table and chair disappeared, and at some point the Boatman had pulled his hood over his face, hiding it again.

Holding the lamp in one hand, he said,

"You dare sit at the same table. Excessive."

"It's not like I was the one who asked to sit..."

This part did feel a little unfair.

"Go."

The Boatman said it, and Enkrid opened his eyes again.

Reality.

It would have been nice if he could forget a dream like that, but he could not. The visions stayed branded in his mind.

A today he could do nothing about.

So what mattered was now. Repeating a today where he could settle down, that would be the best way to protect and preserve his own safety.

"...Have a good dream?"

Hard to say. Sometimes that bastard Rem asked about dreams in the morning, and moments like this made Enkrid think the guy really had some kind of inborn instinct.

A barbarian instinct, maybe.

"Yeah."

He answered, sat up, and steadied his breathing with his head lowered. Rem spoke again.

"You were drenched in cold sweat. You talked in your sleep too."

"What did I say?"

"You said if that was what you wanted, you'd never have held a sword in the first place."

That had been his inner thought. It must have slipped out without him realizing.

A safe, protected life?

"If that was what I wanted, I'd never have held a sword."

Enkrid muttered. A bead of sweat on his brow dropped onto his thigh.

It was something he said to the Boatman and a resolve he said to himself.

"No, Captain would've held a sword no matter what happened."

Rem said.

That was true too.

Enkrid stood up. It was dawn. Before sunrise.

"In our land, we call this time Utkiora."

A western word.

"What does it mean?"

"It means a chick that's broken out of its shell, right before it flies."

"What?"

"We also call it Dark Dawn."

Dawn, a dark morning, that one moment before daybreak.

"After Dark Dawn passes, daybreak is the natural order."

Rem murmured like he was reciting a poem.

Enkrid liked that word.

Dark Dawn.

Darkness before the sun rose.

A perfect name for the best hour to train.

It was time to move his body.

Crang would handle his own work.

And Enkrid planned to handle his own work too.

Meaning drills and training.

As he trained like usual, he heard that Count Molsen had claimed kingship.

"In one month, Nauril Plains."

It was morning. The one who brought the news was Eisia. A bruise still remained around her nasal bone.

Seeing that, Rem stopped mid-yawn and said,

"Where have you been getting hit? Who did that? Tell me. I'll pay him back. I'll split his face in half."

Of course it was a joke. Words he did not mean, half teasing.

"Him."

Eisia answered with a finger. She pointed at Enkrid.

Enkrid still had not told anyone about how she blocked his path.

"The Captain?"

Could Enkrid's skills really beat Eisia up like that? No way.

Rem's eyes turned to Enkrid.

"Pick up your axe. I'll give you a chance to take revenge for the lady."

Enkrid said.

"Who are you calling a lady?"

Eisia cut in, but Rem knew how to play along.

"Let's do it. Smashing the face of one wrist-cripple won't be any work at all. Your ribs all healed?"

They were not fully healed.

He thought it again, just like yesterday, Rem's mouth had improved a lot. A huge leap. Then in a short spar, Rem was shocked all over again.

"Again?"

He had seen it often. Explosive growth, a sword that changed in a single day. Should he call it talent?

No, it was more like a man who lived in a different time by himself.

A sword like a sculpture carved and carved again, a sword like a tower built by stacking and stacking.

"Aren't you the only one living a different day?"

Sometimes Enkrid found Rem's instincts startling.

From the dream before dawn to now.

"Correct."

Enkrid answered with a throwaway word. Rem would not believe him anyway.

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