A Knight who Eternally Regresses - Chapter 418

WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Abstract

A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES

Chapter 418: Famed Sword and Metals

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Kraiss walked up to Enkrid and dropped to one knee. Still kneeling, he raised one arm and bowed his head, his whole posture solemn and dignified.

It looked like a knight taking an oath of loyalty. The words from his mouth matched it.

"I will serve you with all my loyalty."

Enkrid stared at Kraiss. He knew this guy well enough.

Was this because of what he had done?

Because he ended the civil war? Because Kraiss was moved by it? Was he really swearing loyalty now?

Not a chance.

Crang had given him the rank of General instead of a noble title. Along with that, he had handed over this entire stretch of territory.

'The Border Guard alone isn't small, but...'

If someone governed and managed an entire territory, how full could their pockets get?

Kraiss, still on one knee, looked at the dirt. In his eyes, every grain looked like gold dust.

This wasn't a dirt floor. It was a floor of gold.

'It's a massive domain. How many ways are there to squeeze Krona out of this place?'

No need to raise taxes. Link the trade routes of every city under the General's name, then skim commissions from the merchant companies.

No need to take bribes, either.

What if he built trade routes on a completely different scale and took equity by investing in the Rockfreed Trading Company and other rising firms?

He could make a fortune.

And if he made that much, what would he do with it?

The answer was already decided.

Kraiss had mapped out his dream in stages. First, a small salon. Next, an entire salon district. And in the end...

'A city of pleasure.'

A city filled with nothing but indulgence.

Food, drink, clothing, everything handled through merchants, while inside the city all you did was enjoy yourself.

In short, Kraiss's Salon City.

Kraiss's dream was no smaller than Enkrid's.

He wanted to turn an entire city into a place built purely for fun.

And he did not think it was some fantasy with no edge, either.

Building a city would cost an astronomical amount, but he expected returns far beyond the initial investment.

Who in this world hated having fun?

Especially if he made a place where people overflowing with gold, power holders, merchant lords, and the like could gather and enjoy themselves?

If all the pleasures that had once been limited to great nobles' banquets became available anytime in Kraiss's Salon City?

'This can work.'

What he needed was capital. Krona. Gold coins.

The original plan had been to grind out money and open a small salon in the capital first. But if he could make more and jump straight to building a castle and a city...

"...Hey. Big Eyes."

Lost in his swelling dream, Kraiss heard his name only belatedly and lifted his head.

Enkrid met Big Eyes's gaze. Inside those huge eyes, ambition burned like the flames of hell.

"...Right. Serve with all your loyalty."

There was no point trying to stop him. He would never listen.

Enkrid realized it once again.

In the Lunatic Company, the only normal person was himself.

"Ah, there is a gift from His Highness."

Kraiss quickly snapped back to himself, stood, and spoke.

"Two sets of Drake-Scale Armor, enough Lewes Iron Ingot and Darksteel for one sword, and one more thing that might be worth having appraised just in case: the famed sword Aker."

His Highness meant Crang.

So even while emptying the national treasury, he had still set aside everything meant for Enkrid.

'Is this really okay?'

That thought flashed through Enkrid's mind. The items were that expensive.

But for Crang, this was natural.

"Taking care of my people first is the obvious thing to do. This isn't excessive at all."

Drake-Scale Armor was famous for being easy to move in while still harder than ordinary plate armor.

Lewes steel was even harder to obtain than Valerian Steel.

It was much lighter than regular iron, yet just as tough as Valerian Steel.

Darksteel was a metal you could not buy even with five times its weight in gold.

Its nickname was "the trial given by God."

It was five times heavier than normal steel, yet it had every excellent property: strength, ductility, all of it.

If not for its weight, Darksteel could have been called a gift from God. But that weight was the problem.

If it could not be refined for proper use, it was meaningless, so it was usually used only in parts of engraved weapons made for knights.

Of course, Ubersan Darksteel was said to be the finest among all Darksteel sources, but even Darksteel from other regions was something ordinary people would never see in their lifetime.

And lastly, Aker.

'Wasn't that a royal treasure?'

Enkrid had heard the name too.

It was true.

Aker was the famed sword used by a knight of the previous generation.

The story that it had sliced through a giant-made stone gate with a light stroke, without even applying force, was so famous it had become a fairy tale everyone knew.

"I was wondering if he looted the treasury dry to send all this."

That was how large the gift was.

Enkrid nodded at Kraiss's words. They were indeed shaking out the treasury to solve the financial crisis left by the civil war.

They were incredible items, but if they were being given, there was no reason to refuse. Enkrid accepted with an easy nod.

"I have a lot to say. A lot."

Ruagarne approached and spoke. Her eyes burned as hot as Kraiss's.

Of course they did.

She was weak to the unknown.

'How can this even happen?'

She couldn't believe it even while seeing it.

No genius could grow this much.

Especially through Talent-Reading Eyes, Enkrid's talent still looked meager.

It had improved, yes, but only slightly. Ruagarne had never said it aloud, but among the Frog, her talent to recognize talent was beyond excellence, close to the mystical.

Because of that, she could see not only what Enkrid had already built, but also what he would build from here on.

Enkrid always looked like someone half a step beyond his limits.

He was running past the limits of his talent.

And in that state, he had become one of the strongest even among junior knights.

'How did he do it?'

For the first time in a long while, Ruagarne felt her racial instinct flare up. The unknown was moving vividly right before her eyes.

Enkrid did not feel burdened by the Frog's stare. Just as he had stayed indifferent when Rierbart talked about frustration and despair, he brushed this off too. Instead, he asked how Ruagarne had come here.

"My covenant was with the Queen. That is over now."

Normally, she should have left to seek another unknown, but now the closest thing to her was an existence she could neither believe nor understand no matter how hard she tried.

She believed coming here had been inevitable. Destiny.

"Why? If you need it, should we make a covenant?"

Ruagarne was willing to make one even if it meant being bound to this man for life. She was even willing to accept it if Enkrid demanded spiritual love.

"No, that's fine."

Enkrid saw no need for that. His mind was already full of other thoughts.

"Upset I got here first?"

At Captain Sinar's words, Enkrid looked at her and asked,

"Did everything go well where you went?"

Sinar smiled at that question. She rarely smiled. People around her who knew the elf Sinar were surprised, but Enkrid stayed calm.

"Were you worried?"

"Good. It went well."

That was the end of it. Sinar returned to her usual cold, expressionless face, as if proving once again that she was of a race other than human, and Ruagarne followed behind Enkrid.

On the way inside, Enkrid sank into deep thought. Rem saw that, tapped his shoulder, and asked,

"What are you thinking about?"

Enkrid had been frowning in thought. Then he spoke.

"When a diagonal slash flows into a thrust, what happens if I pause once, then use instant acceleration?"

That split-second pause would create a speed change that confused the opponent's eyes. Slow first, fast after. The rhythm changed, so it felt even faster.

Which made it harder to block.

"...You've been thinking only about that this whole time?"

Rem asked.

"What else?"

Was there something more urgent?

Enkrid asked with his eyes.

"We're not called the Lunatic Company for nothing."

Rem thought the craziest one of all was the man in front of him. Enkrid, meanwhile, wondered why he was saying that now. It sounded like spitting in your own face.

"If you do that, your tendons will snap. Or your muscles will tear."

Using Will meant overworking the body.

If he slashed fast, stopped, then thrust fast again, that wasn't overwork. That was asking his body to die.

"Do it in moderation. Moderation. If you understand, nod. Moderation, moderation."

Rem repeated the word over and over.

Audin, listening nearby, smiled and added,

"You need special training, General brother."

No one switched forms of address faster than Audin. He used the word General as if it were nothing.

"Special training?"

Enkrid showed interest. Audin was pleased. It was the first time in his life someone had followed his training this eagerly.

People he had taught in the past came to mind.

"Please spare me."

"Is today finally the day I meet Father Lord?"

"...Are you serious? You want to raise the training intensity even more? Forget it, let's just fight."

Compared to then, now...

"What kind of training?"

There was someone who showed not only interest but heat.

It would be a lie to say Audin wasn't satisfied. The man in front of him also walked straighter and truer than anyone else.

When Audin heard what this man had done in the civil war, he had felt a shiver.

'Father Lord, I want to ask you.'

Was that man your incarnation, sent because you could no longer bear this land's poverty and malice?

That was how striking it had been.

At the final wave of specters, when he advanced instead of retreating, Audin had nearly cried.

And the enemy had been a servant possessed by a demon.

This had to be divine arrangement.

Audin let the stray thoughts pass and said,

"Training the body has no end. You used striking methods to temper it like steel, yes? This time, we train bodily control."

The striking method was literally hammering the body like steel with a hammer. Enkrid had been doing it consistently, but it was still hard to say he had seen major results.

That did not bore him. He had plenty of things like that.

Even when results did not appear right away, he gave his all today and repeated it endlessly. That was the one thing Enkrid truly had.

"Control?"

Enkrid asked back.

He could already flip through the air and swing a sword. He had mastered moving his body.

Junior-knight level was no joke.

Even those called masters of martial arts usually had to bow their heads before a junior knight.

"If you cannot command every single strand of muscle as you wish, how can you call that your body?"

Audin said. Pel, listening nearby, blinked several times.

'Do you need training like that?'

Pel was a genius too, so the question came naturally.

Normally, that kind of thing settled into the body on its own. It wasn't something you had to isolate and learn.

Rem and Ragna weren't puzzled. Their captain had never been strange in just one way.

For example, that trick Enkrid had just described, stopping and moving again, Rem could do it.

But Enkrid could not.

Audin could read a body's state and confirm control through movement, so he knew exactly what Enkrid needed.

As Enkrid's sword gained finer precision, the range of what he could do had expanded.

He could move beyond tricks into motions close to the miraculous.

What did he need now? A body that could endure it. A body that could naturally perform the movement drawn in his mind without feeling strain.

Things that came naturally to those called geniuses did not come naturally to Enkrid.

"Good."

Of course, Enkrid didn't care about any of that.

He was simply satisfied that there was something new to train.

Starting that evening after returning to Border Guard, Enkrid trained his body.

Two days later, a blacksmith arrived from the capital.

He carried the epithet Iron and Fine Gold, a man who would take offense at being called second-best in the blacksmiths' guild.

"Not just anyone can handle Darksteel."

The king's request was part of it, but when he heard he was to forge a weapon for the hero who saved the nation, he dropped every other task and came at once.

From the gifts, Enkrid told everyone to take whatever they wanted, then kept only the famed sword. The moment he gripped Aker, he knew.

'This is my sword.'

Enkrid said something sentimental for once, and Rem answered,

"That's how it feels when you hold something expensive and good. Feels like it's yours."

That wasn't wrong.

Silver and his Valerian Steel sword had felt like his from the moment he held them too.

Anyway, this was Aker, the enchanted weapon said to have been used by a knight of the previous generation.

Even the sword's name came from that knight's name, which made it satisfying.

"Give me the Lewes Iron Ingot."

Rem wanted the iron, and Ragna saw the Darksteel and took it.

"I'll take this."

"Go ahead."

Enkrid had no reason to stop him.

"You're not planning to sell those, right?"

Kraiss, watching all this, asked, but everyone ignored him.

Why would they sell this?

These people did not care about Krona.

Kraiss felt a little heartburn.

Aker couldn't be sold anyway, but if the Lewes Iron Ingot or Darksteel were sold, he could have raised over half the startup capital for a salon shop in the capital.

'No, if I sold them, I'd get an even better price.'

His stomach burned, but what could he do.

It was fair to see this as payment for what they had achieved.

So for that reason, the craftsman from the capital had to deal with Rem and Ragna.

"If we make a spear shaft from ironwood and forge a spearhead from the Lewes ingot, it will be an excellent weapon."

"Let's make axes."

"An axe is weighted more toward the head than the handle, so if it gets too light..."

"I think a single solid piece would be best, handle about this long. Make two."

Rem spread both hands to show the length. They were still hand axes with long handles.

The craftsman looked at him and thought, what is this bastard?

When he met his eyes, he saw the face of a grinning barbarian.

He didn't look stubborn, but he looked like the type who would blow up if rubbed the wrong way.

The craftsman shelved persuading Rem and turned to the other one.

"Darksteel is best forged as a dagger, or mixed only at the edge. If balanced as a dagger, it won't feel as heavy as expected, and if spread onto blade edges with this amount... let's see, I could make twenty swords. More than thirty spears."

"Greatsword. About this size."

Ragna said only what he wanted and didn't listen.

"I'll wrap the grip with this manticore hide."

The craftsman checked Ragna's eyes too. They were eyes with no intention of hearing anything except what he wanted.

'This bastard isn't normal either.'

The craftsman's assistant watched nervously. His master usually blew up whenever people ignored his advice.

That same master now said,

"Let's do it."

There is no cure for madness.

"Master?"

The assistant asked in shock.

"Work the fire."