WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS
Translator: Hydrogen B
Editor: Abstract
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES
Chapter 412: The Civil War Was Over.
= = =
Enkrid lifted his head into the falling rain.
Drop by drop, it washed the blood from his body. It felt as if it were wrapping around his exhausted frame.
He sometimes felt like this when he slept holding Esther. This felt similar.
‘Did Esther do something?’
It seemed likely. He could tell from the count’s reaction, and from what the demon had said.
The rain did not stop. It kept falling.
Water pooled on the ground, washed away blood, and ran in thin streams.
They had broken through Ten Thousand Specters and cut down the count.
It sounded simple when put into words, but no one could call it simple.
It was that great. That much of a feat.
Standing in the rain, Enkrid steadied his breathing and picked up the broken half of Silver.
Then he forced his creaking body to move as he looked at the count’s corpse.
Only then did Audin start moving too, finally freed from the paralysis of the Prohibition Seal.
“You worked hard, brother.”
“You too.”
It was a plain exchange. Audin walked over to the dead count, dropped to one knee, clasped his hands, and began to pray.
Praying for the dead was a priest’s duty.
Even if his life had been full of sin, may he remain by the Lord and be given a chance to repent.
“May he remain by the Lord and receive His teachings.”
The god Audin believed in enjoyed punishing sinners. His teachings were closer to beating them down in person.
It sounded like the sinner’s repentance would be helped along by the Lord’s fists and feet.
“Please let him rest in peace there.”
Would he rest in peace?
Enkrid listened and thought that.
Ragna got to his feet and staggered for a moment. He did not groan, but his body was clearly far from fine.
Even he had pushed too hard.
His sword was ruined, and most of his protective gear was torn or shattered.
Thankfully, no one was in any shape to tease him.
Jaxon still had a hole in his abdomen. Even so, his face stayed calm. He slowly braced a hand on the ground and stood.
“It’s over.”
Something in his voice carried both relief and regret. It was rare for emotion to show in his words.
Did he want to stab the count himself?
Maybe.
The rain kept falling. Enkrid looked at Rem, who was still refusing to stand.
Rem looked back at him.
Why are you not getting up?
Enkrid asked with his eyes. Rem had been deep in thought for a while, then finally spoke.
“Captain.”
“What?”
“Grant me the honor of letting you carry me on your back.”
He meant he could not walk on his own.
“You can’t walk from just that?”
Ragna said, clearly unable to hold it in.
“Weak constitution?”
Jaxon added.
“Looks like your usual training wasn’t enough.”
Audin’s concern came out in full force.
“I’m just giving the captain a chance to be grateful to me.”
Of course, none of it made a dent in Rem’s thick skin.
Enkrid did not understand every detail of what had happened, but he knew one thing. Rem had pushed himself the hardest.
That was the truth.
Before they formed the battle formation, Rem had used sorcery. It was sorcery forcibly borrowed from someone else.
That was one of the most dangerous things you could do in sorcery.
It was like stealing another person’s origin and using it.
What Rem did was forcibly repurpose a totem the Undying Madman had created for his own use.
He had overstrained himself using it, so backlash was inevitable.
On top of that, he had served as the central mid-level regulator in the battle formation. It was harsher work than what Audin, the foundation, had to do.
Of course his body was screaming.
If he endured his body breaking down, he could stand and walk, but Rem did not feel like doing that.
Partly because he felt he had done enough to deserve a piggyback ride.
‘This’ll be fun.’
He also wanted to recover faster. He had seen Enkrid’s final slash, the moment he cut down the count.
‘If I recover faster, I can spar him sooner.’
Rem had already been colored by Enkrid, and he wanted to cross swords with him too.
Properly, in good condition. So he would get carried.
His tone was calm, but his eyes burned. His will to be carried back looked hot enough to evaporate the rain.
“Do I look fine to you?”
Enkrid asked flatly.
“Better than me.”
Rem sounded proud.
What a crazy bastard.
Even so, Enkrid was ready to carry him. Rem had done that much.
Luckily, he did not have to carry him himself.
“I’ll carry him.”
When had they arrived?
Dunbakel and Teresa had run over, both catching their breath.
Dunbakel stepped forward.
“Go ahead.”
Rem did not argue. He did not care who carried him.
Dunbakel hoisted Rem onto her back, Enkrid quickly handled what he could around them, and the rain kept falling.
Enkrid and his group started walking toward the allied camp.
The path they had cut through the specters was not as long as it had felt. Going in, it had seemed far. Going back, it felt short.
The enemy side was silent, and the allied side was even quieter. They walked that silent road, the one they had carved out with their own hands.
Everyone watched them.
Enkrid and his party, however, did not care about anyone’s gaze.
Crang walked up to them.
He was soaked through, but he did not look like a drowned rat.
He was not smiling, but he was not drunk on victory either.
From his expression alone, no one could tell what he was thinking. Only his trembling pupils gave him away. His posture and face were calm, but what showed in his eyes was not hidden.
* * *
Before the count died, the soldiers fought Specter Soldiers while also fighting off the specters trying to seize their bodies.
They fought and fought again, endured and endured again.
‘When will this end?’
Their bodies hit the limit.
‘Maybe it would be better to just die.’
Their minds hit the limit.
Body and mind were both at the edge, and Specter Soldiers kept rushing in without fear.
Those things attacked everyone, kingdom soldiers and the count’s soldiers alike.
Before that wave of specters that made no distinction between friend and foe, the two armies had collapsed into one tangled mass.
Even those who had stood out and held the line were reaching their limits.
In the middle of it all, the soldiers saw horrific nightmares and visions.
“Die, die, die, die, die.”
That was neither a nightmare nor a vision. It was the scene of those fighting Count Molsen.
Esther’s spell had interfered and tangled with the count’s spell, causing something bizarre.
Most of the soldiers there saw Enkrid’s fight.
Marcus saw it too.
‘Win.’
He cheered for him.
Eisia saw it too and clenched her fist.
‘I should have been there too!’
Even so, she could not pull out right away. A shepherd who had come out of nowhere was doing work, but if she left, the prince would be in danger.
Unlike Eisia, Dunbakel and Teresa ran over as soon as they saw the situation. Whether they became meat shields or struck from behind at the right moment, both of them had to be there.
Andrew could not move. Esther still had not risen, and he judged that guarding this place was his duty.
So he could only watch.
The soldiers did not even have the strength to shout that they had survived.
“Hhk.”
More than half collapsed, gasping for air. Even those who had been holding on dropped where they stood.
They had no strength left for victory cheers. Rain kept soaking their bodies.
If anything, it was better that rain was falling.
It felt like the specter energy clinging to them was being washed away.
And that was true. That was exactly what Esther had done.
Esther, now awake in reality, had already understood what had happened.
The count had tried to bring his World of Spells down onto this land, but was that ever truly possible?
No. A demon’s power had intervened and made it happen, but in the end it was still a stupid act.
Even if he had succeeded, that idiot mage would likely have lost his body, been enthralled, and kept repeating idiotic acts.
Like turning all kingdom citizens into test subjects, the way he made chimeras.
Maybe worse.
Wasn’t that what a demon’s whisper was?
Since she could not break every spell made with borrowed demonic power one by one, Esther used more than half her mana to make it rain.
In that process, the count’s image had reflected into the soldiers’ consciousness.
Esther saw it too.
The madman who cut down the count and then tried to cut down the demon too.
Esther felt she needed to tell him how dangerous demons were.
Watching Enkrid’s fight, Crang spoke to himself inwardly.
His palms were not sweaty. He just waited.
There was nothing he could do here.
Did that make him feel powerless?
No. He had his own stage.
This stage just happened to be the moment his friend had to step up.
So all Crang could do was believe, and believe again.
‘I believe.’
His faith was not betrayed.
His trust was repaid.
As rain poured down and specters faded, Crang stepped forward through the surviving soldiers. Without a word, he walked out.
“My lord?”
Marcus called to him, but Crang did not stop. He only halted after meeting Enkrid on his return. Then, after a brief pause, he spoke.
“Praise him, the hero who saved us.”
His voice was low and quiet.
Marcus, following behind Crang, agreed with those words.
He was not the only one.
Eisia limped over too, and nodded before she realized it.
Looking at Enkrid, Crang took a deep breath and tightened his core.
His voice had been too quiet.
“Praise him! The hero who saved us!”
His voice spread out. It was one of Crang’s talents, a shout launched from deep in his gut.
“Uh.”
One soldier raised his head, weeping. Rain streamed down his face.
“Uooooooh!”
“We lived!”
“For the hero!”
“For the Lunatic Company!”
Shouts mixed together until they became words no one could make out.
The heat of it felt strong enough to blast the rain wide for an instant.
At the center of that heat, an old commander disliked the disorganized shouting.
And hadn’t he seen it himself?
The count had turned into a demon, and our hero cut him down.
He shouted with all his heart.
“All of you, follow me!”
Many soldiers followed him. Was he not the one whose command had let them endure the specter onslaught to the very end?
He too was clearly their hero.
“Demon Slayer!”
Demon Slayer.
Spread far and wide the majesty of the one who cut down a demon!
At the commander’s cry, nearby soldiers shouted along.
“Demon Slayer!”
Their cry spread through the ranks in moments.
“Demon Slayer!”
“Demon Slayer!”
The rain kept falling. At first it had answered Esther’s mana, but this was rain that had already been meant to fall.
Dark clouds covered the sky, so there was no bright sunlight.
Even so, everyone saw something shining.
If the one who killed a demon, erased the specters, and ended the war did not shine, then what would?
“Demon Slayer!”
It was a title that would make the still-living demon grind its sharp fangs in bitter rage if it heard it.
Enkrid listened blankly and said,
“I didn’t kill the demon, though.”
“To be exact, noble killer would be more accurate.”
Rem said, sticking to the facts.
“Demon underling killer is the right one.”
Audin added.
From a religious point of view, the enemy’s identity was obvious. At least through Audin’s eyes.
“Who cares?”
Ragna gave his opinion calmly and shut down the nonsense.
Jaxon was silent as always.
Dunbakel briefly considered how brutal Rem’s revenge would be if she threw him off her back right now, then dropped the idea.
Teresa inwardly agreed with Audin.
Only then did Crang show a soft smile.
Every one of them, including Enkrid, deserved to be called a hero.
He had also already learned on the road to the capital how insane they all were.
‘Consistently insane.’
He thought it with a smile.
Enkrid nodded calmly. He had not read Crang’s mind, but he thought he was the most normal one.
“Thank you, you craziest bastard.”
That was why Crang’s words almost made Enkrid panic. Even after the count died and a demon appeared, Enkrid had tried to charge in at once, but this still caught him off guard.
Who was the craziest one?
“Now you’ve become the hero who saved the kingdom.”
Crang continued, then bowed his head. It was the utmost courtesy from a prince who would one day become king.
The surrounding soldiers were all watching.
Enkrid was exhausted to the limit.
He had no mental room to treat anyone as a prince.
“Enough.”
So he grabbed the prince’s shoulders and pulled him up. He did what he had to do. The praise did make his chest swell, and Crang’s attitude was not bad.
Still, one thing had to be corrected.
“Why am I the craziest one?”
When Rem’s right there?
Crang burst out laughing at his friend’s words.
“Hahaha, let’s go. Eat, drink, and rest. You can even empty out the royal palace stores!”
Between the cries of Demon Slayer came shouts of we lived, we won.
Enemy soldiers who had served the count quietly threw down their weapons.
The civil war was over.
= = =
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