A Knight who Eternally Regresses - Chapter 400

WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES

Chapter 400: Eating Meat

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Marcus, backed by Crang, was now the overall commander of the main force.

He knew how precious the time Enkrid had bought them was. It was only one day, but a lot could be done in one day.

"Tell every unit commander to come in!"

This was the time for tactics and strategy. Was he gifted in that area? Not really. That was not a problem.

Then what should he do?

He just had to gather the people who were good at it.

"Have the Reconnaissance Team watch enemy movements without rest, and let every other unit rest! Feed them and let them recover, but tell them not to disarm. Weapons stay at their side at all times!"

Marcus kept shouting orders without pause.

Watching him, Crang remembered the Enkrid he had just seen.

It gave him goosebumps.

There was a man who stood in the middle of the battlefield and showed his back to it.

Crang called someone like that a knight.

A knight like the ones sung by bards.

Not a symbol of force, but a symbol of honor and conviction.

Someone who raised a sword for what he believed in.

A guardian of vows.

Enkrid had not been one of the tools Crang prepared. Even so, Crang trusted him. He wanted Enkrid fighting at his side.

That intent had worked. It had unfolded just as he wanted.

Still, looking at Enkrid, Crang could not be sure he could keep him.

Can I keep him close?

Desire flared in him. He wanted Enkrid at his side. The urge boiled up in an instant. Then Crang threw that desire away just as quickly.

There was a better way.

I do not need to keep him.

What about staying friends instead?

That was not bad at all. So, friends it was. Just then, that hero returned.

"Enki."

Crang greeted him first. Marcus looked at him too.

All Enkrid had seemed to do was cut down a few enemy soldiers and fight one battle that looked like a draw with the enemy commander, but the force he showed had imprinted itself on everyone.

His fight had also lifted allied morale.

They were inside the command tent, where battle plans were being laid out.

Enkrid saw Crang raise a hand from inside and gave a rough nod.

No matter if they called each other friends, could he really call him by name freely in a place like this?

Enkrid had enough sense to act according to the situation.

Of course, even if he called Crang by name right now, nobody could object.

He had tact, but he still did not fully feel what he had accomplished.

Crang thought that was one of Enkrid's traits too.

That was what he thought as he guessed why Enkrid had not called his name.

Soon, everyone worthy of being called a commander stepped into the tent.

One of them shouted first.

"Put me at the vanguard!"

Baron Ludin had long dreamed of entering the knight order. His blood was boiling. He had just seen a man stand alone against several thousand drilled troops.

If his blood did not boil, he would not be human.

Fire burned in his eyes.

"Hold yourself back."

Marcus said it as soon as he saw him.

Setting tactics and strategy aside, Marcus knew what had to be done right now.

They were trying to tilt the war with a single battle.

Then they had to use every prepared measure.

"Maybe that is not all the Count has hidden. But the fact that we must fight does not change. We will fight to hold by standing together."

Marcus established the overall strategy, and several tactically minded people filled the gaps.

At the center of it was Enkrid's Madmen Company, but nobody could tell them exactly how to move.

A great strategist made every soldier keep moving without pause.

He made each man understand his role and carry it out.

Some people did not need that kind of command, though.

People who stepped outside normal patterns and found their own place.

Enkrid was one of them.

That was why Marcus said nothing to him. No order was needed.

He assigned positions to everyone else and passed over Enkrid.

Enkrid and the forces under him counted as squad-level strength on paper, but naturally, nobody thought of them as just a squad anymore.

They had all seen it, and now they all knew.

His skill was real, and "hero of Border Guard" was not an empty title.

The strategy meeting was entering its final stage, where they set the course of battle.

"The Madmen Company will move on their own, right?"

Marcus needed certainty in his own judgment, so he wanted to hear the answer.

Would they become a single blade and cut enemies down for their lord?

Was his judgment correct?

Would they fight by finding their own place beyond ordinary behavior?

"Yes, we will."

The answer was short, but Marcus felt relieved.

Enkrid nodded and went back to the tent assigned to him.

It was a fairly large tent. Right in front of it, Rem had lit a campfire and was making something.

"Feels like we are in for a rough time starting tomorrow."

The warrior called a barbarian spoke from instinct.

He was right. It would likely be rough, and likely dangerous.

"Are you so excited you could die?"

"How did you know?"

"It is written all over your face."

Enkrid sat on a flat stone chair Rem had set up at a good height.

Nice skill. Where did he even find and make these one by one?

"Where is my chair?"

Ragna stepped out of the tent and asked. Rem answered in a roundabout way that meant get lost.

"Did you leave one with me?"

"Did you come back after getting your ankle twisted and beaten up just to take it out on us?"

He was still teasing him for getting hurt after dragging in that Undying Madman before.

Ragna was relentless.

Rem ignored him, and in the end Ragna hauled over a similar rock from somewhere, set it down beside them, and sat.

Jaxon was even smarter.

He shaved wood neatly and made himself a chair.

If they were going this far, would it not be better to ask the friend in charge of logistics for simple folding chairs?

Dunbakel just sat on the ground.

That looked the most comfortable.

Esther transformed into a panther and curled up in Enkrid's arms.

Enkrid wiped himself down with a wet cloth and watched what Rem was doing.

It looked like Rem had put an axe to the quartermaster's neck and gotten fresh meat.

More likely, he got it from hunting on the way here.

Raw fresh meat like that was hard for regular soldiers to even see. He scored it with a small knife, sprinkled salt into the cuts, then wrapped it in clean cotton cloth.

Enkrid kept staring, and Rem finally spoke.

"If you do this, the leftover blood drains out and the meat gets more tender."

"Sounds good."

As soon as Enkrid answered, Rem glanced around once.

At some point, even Eisia had shown up and taken a spot.

She was the only one who had gotten a chair from the quartermaster. It had a simple design. Pull the sides apart and the legs opened, stretching the cloth tight across the top.

It broke easily, but it did not take much work to make.

"What is that? What are you making?"

Eisia was still as friendly as ever. That kind of personality, the kind that would have lots of friends, had not gone anywhere.

Even so, had she gotten stabbed in the back that badly?

What was that Flow-Breaking Squire called again? Enkrid tried to remember, then gave up.

It just would not come to him.

"I am not giving any to arrogant bastards."

Rem said it like that.

Even if he said that, he would share it. He was not as stingy as he sounded.

Ragna thought for a moment, frowned, and spoke.

"If you give me some, I will forget that incident."

He meant he would stop teasing him about the leg injury.

Judging by the mood, they had harassed each other plenty even when Enkrid was not around.

They were all insane bastards.

Getting hurt in a fight becoming teasing material was one thing, and getting angry because of teasing was another.

"I will let you slide."

Rem answered. Ragna was picky about food. He knew exactly how valuable Rem's cooking was. So he stepped back.

Enkrid simply watched in silence.

When Rem salted the sliced meat, Jaxon silently tossed over a small pouch.

The meaning was obvious. He intended to eat too.

Rem snatched it out of the air with a smack, rounded his mouth, and said,

"You bastard."

It sounded almost like praise. Jaxon, naturally, ignored him completely.

It was spices.

Rem sprinkled them over the meat, and the aroma spread.

Maybe herbs were mixed in.

"If you poisoned it, you die."

Rem muttered with a grin. It was clearly a joke.

Jaxon ignored that too and sat beside Enkrid.

Dunbakel quietly helped Rem prep the meat.

"Do not use your nails. Did you wash your hands?"

"I will use the knife."

Dunbakel was unusually obedient.

The meat had been scored and seasoned with salt and spices. When the cloth turned red with blood, they removed it, brought a fresh cloth, and patted the meat dry.

They ringed the campfire with stones so they could place things over it, then set a cast-iron pan on top, no idea where they had found it.

Rem poured linseed oil into the pan.

"This is precious stuff."

That was what he said while doing it. Enkrid nodded.

For now, Rem's word was law here.

The pan heated up enough. Oil spread across the surface, and the scent hit their noses. Rem laid the meat onto the cast-iron pan.

Chiiiiiiiik!

Smoke rose and a rich smell spread out. The scent of meat mixed with oil swept through their noses, then went past simple hunger and slammed straight into their brains. Saliva pooled in their mouths.

"Mm."

Enkrid let out a small sound of admiration, and Rem stared at the meat.

He looked more serious than ever. His hands still moved light and fast.

He flipped the meat. The outside had seared into a deep brown crust.

Chiiiiik.

He cooked the other side in white smoke.

Later he stabbed it with something like an iron skewer and seared the edges too.

Once he judged it done, he moved the chunk of meat to a clean wooden board.

Dunbakel's hand moved toward it.

"If you eat it now, you die. Wait."

"Ah, why?"

"Because it tastes better if you wait."

For Rem, that was an unusually reasonable reason and unusually gentle persuasion.

Dunbakel accepted it.

After grilling several chunks, he cut the first one. Red inside, brown outside.

"I intentionally brought fatty cuts. This is beef."

"Where did you get it?"

"Looks like some nomads passed nearby. They had fresh stuff."

He said it while slicing the meat into smaller pieces.

"Eat."

Rem folded his arms and spoke.

Enkrid used his momentary acceleration. Of course, he added Focus Point. In and out. He stabbed and pulled, and the wooden skewer lifted a thick piece of meat.

He put it in his mouth and chewed.

Crunch.

Juice burst out. The rich meat aroma churned through his nose and all the way into his head.

The fragrance had stimulated his saliva glands. This stabbed straight into taste.

Every hair on his body reacted.

This was it. This was what cooking was. This was what meat was.

The tender flesh ran between his teeth, then slid down his throat.

What was that?

Was this a dream? When had it already gone down?

Enkrid moved his skewer again.

"Plenty left."

Rem said.

They ate until they were full. Every single one of them was a big eater. It was natural. They moved their bodies that hard.

They ate and ate, and only stopped when they were patting their bellies.

Even Jaxon, of all people, kept silently chewing and swallowing piece after piece.

It turned into an unexpected feast.

"Whew, ate well. Tomorrow morning, we play for real."

Rem said, patting his stomach.

"That was my line."

Enkrid shot back.

"Ah, that was great. Enkrid, I watched your daytime fight."

Eisia said that, then left first.

It was not a night with any special duty. Everyone spent the time as they liked.

Ragna had nothing particular on his mind.

Rem was full of anticipation.

Jaxon stepped out for a bit, using a walk as an excuse.

He was taking in the night air when a shadow rose from one side without warning.

It was his lover, and the guild's contact.

"Do you really have to go this far?"

She asked at once. For her, this whole thing was hard to understand.

"This is the last time."

Jaxon answered. She had asked why he was stepping onto the battlefield under Enkrid, and Jaxon's answer meant he wanted to leave this as his final gift.

His lover stared at him.

She did not know why. She could not find a reason, could not even guess one.

She just felt that Jaxon would not come back.

Do you remember your father's words?

Out of nowhere, she remembered what Jaxon's dead father, and also his master, used to say.

"Find the place where you belong."

That had been both an order and a will left behind.

Jaxon had not kept those words in his heart, but his lover had.

For now, there was no way to know.

While Jaxon was out for his night walk, Dunbakel, unlike her usual self, could not sleep and came outside.

She sat on the stone chair Rem had used and stared blankly up at the sky.

It was a bright moonlit night.