WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES

Chapter 433: There Was Never Permission

= = =

The madman, a traveler and zealot wandering in search of his dream, had met three knights.

The first was a knight of Azpen.

Every technique he had was fast and powerful.

Even knowing it was coming, stopping it was impossible.

No, now Enkrid could probably stop a half-hearted strike if he knew it was coming, but back then, that was how it felt.

In raw physical ability, the man had felt like a different species. His sword proved it.

The next knight-level fighter he met was the Mercenary King, Anu.

He did not show everything he had. What he revealed was only a tiny part.

And the Mercenary King was Beastfolk. That was how much he showed without even transforming.

Even so, Enkrid saw, felt, and learned a lot. Anu fought as if showing him things one by one.

What Anu showed was technique.

From motions he could not understand, spearheads flew in from impossible angles.

The last one stood right in front of him.

An opponent who pulled back his black blade after bringing it down.

Ragna's sword was one-strike kill.

A sword that killed without fail.

It carried the essence of Heavy Sword Style exactly as it was.

Not all knights were the same.

What had the Mercenary King meant by experience?

Where did this difference begin?

'By sharpening what you have.'

If you believed the path you were walking was right, then instead of looking back and worrying, take one more step.

The king's words stayed clear in his mind. The lesson was direct.

The moment he understood that, Enkrid knew for certain.

Talent, the heavens, none of it would permit what he wanted.

'Genius among geniuses.'

One in ten thousand.

And from that pool, picked and picked again, one remains. That is a knight.

'So?'

Would that change anything? No. It was the same as always. It had always been that way.

There was never permission.

If the heavens did not permit it, if talent did not permit it, if no one permitted it, what if he still found a way?

This was one of those ways. Enkrid felt it. A thread had appeared. A smile came first, and his mouth opened before his thoughts could catch up.

"Again."

His arms trembled. If he did not brace his core, he felt he would be pushed backward. It was like standing against a storm that could rip out tree roots, without even a staff to lean on.

It was like climbing a glacial mountain range where piss froze on contact, wearing nothing but a rag.

'No, that is not right.'

He had a staff. He had clothes, even if they were rags.

Enkrid steadied himself.

Everything he had built so far was his clothing and his staff.

A man who denied what he had built and failed to trust himself had no tomorrow.

So he started there, by trusting himself.

That meaning was in the Mercenary King's words too.

Walk the road you believe is right, and do not turn your back on what you have built.

Smiling, Enkrid looked at Ragna and asked with his eyes.

You planning to end this with one swing?

Ragna took his stance as if the answer was obvious. The black blade split sunlight and rose, vertical to the ground.

He intended to repeat the same motion.

A strike impossible to stop even when it was expected, a sword swing that perfectly recreated what Enkrid had felt when he first saw that Azpen knight.

* * *

Even while holding back, this was what Ragna's swing looked like.

Black lightning fell three times, and Enkrid blocked all three. No, endured was the better word.

The muscles in his right arm were close to tearing, and his left arm was close to breaking.

'That meatheaded bastard.'

Rem almost spat it out after watching to the end, then stopped. His throat suddenly itched, and he scratched it. The curse died in his mouth.

'Then again, I am no different.'

He agreed too. Watching Enkrid made it hard to do anything halfway.

Even with both arms trembling, Enkrid tried to grip his sword again. His body swayed like he could collapse at any second, but his eyes were still alive.

How could anyone take it easy against a man charging in with his soul on fire?

That spenadul, that lazy bastard who would smoke tobacco with his ass, had still held back.

If he had used just a little more strength, both of Enkrid's arms would have shattered.

So it was hard to curse him for being a brute.

"Hoho, our lazy brother has reached a remarkable insight," Audin said in pure admiration. Seeing a knight-level sword was not common.

Even if Audin released his Prohibition Seal right now, he could not do that immediately.

He would need time to adjust.

Or maybe hard training first.

Still, it was not beyond his reach.

Rem and Audin stayed calm.

The others did not.

Many talented people stood around Enkrid.

Rem, Jaxon, and Audin were special, but the rest were no pushovers either.

Teresa half-closed her eyes and sank into thought. She replayed what she had just seen again and again.

That had been lightning. A black disaster dropping as metal no one would dare block.

'Could I stop that with a shield?'

If there were a shield that never broke, could the arm behind it endure?

That was the kind of sword swing that made even someone with a half-giant body think that.

Teresa clenched her molars hard. Her jaw muscles tensed, and a long line stood out along her jaw.

Despair was just about to lift its head.

Then she saw Enkrid, who had held on until he blacked out and fell.

Watching him, something rose before frustration or despair could.

'I can do it too.'

It was the will not to lose, and the resolve not to give up.

Dunbakel and Ropord felt the same. All of them fell into deep thought.

Ruagarne's eyes shone, then tears spilled out.

"Why is that Frog crying?" Rem asked when he saw her.

"It seems her emotions overflowed, barbarian brother," Audin said.

Audin was right. Ruagarne felt something swelling in her chest.

She was so moved she could not speak. The Frog's smooth fingers trembled.

'How can he be like that?'

She had seen Enkrid's growth, and she also knew how poor his talent was.

Her talent as a Frog and Ruagarne's own experience let her see Enkrid's limits at every moment.

Yet he still moved forward.

Ruagarne saw something beyond simply not envying others.

A will to keep going even if the heavens gave no permission, even without talent.

It shone brighter than a falling star and burned hotter than blazing fire.

It was pure will.

'There was never permission.'

Enkrid had spoken those words with his whole body, then proved himself through what he did next.

Ruagarne opened her mouth.

"He will become a knight."

It was sudden, but no one argued.

The Mercenary King had not left something to Enkrid because he was certain.

What he left was closer to a gift tossed to a man who carried his dream on his sword.

And now.

The Frog who always observed and grasped reality before exploring the unknown felt a fierce certainty that needed no reason.

That man would become a knight.

Ruagarne was moved, and everyone was lost in thought.

So among all of them, the one most shocked was Pel.

'What is that?'

He had never thought he would lose to anyone in talent. Why would he?

He came from the Shepherds of the Wilderness. Every one of them was a monster.

How many elders were there he still could not handle, even if he drew Idolslayer and rushed them?

Even then, it had been fine. He was behind now, but he would catch up quickly.

But after seeing what happened in front of him, that confidence was scraped away. The mountain he thought was solid felt like loose dirt scattering in the wind.

'Is my talent actually nothing special?'

Pel fell into shock and could not move.

* * *

If both arms were wrecked, then he would train his lower body.

"You really do not know how to rest. Good posture. If blood circulates quickly, recovery speeds up too."

If a properly trained physician heard that, they would call it madness.

When the body had an inflammatory response, rest came before exertion.

But there was no such healer here, and Audin was not completely wrong either.

Enkrid's body was not so weak that this would break it.

Through the Isolation Technique, and with a body specialized for recovery through the Renewed Body, he had become sturdy in this kind of thing.

It took seven days for both arms to recover completely.

Exactly one week later, Enkrid gripped his sword and called out to Ragna.

"Stop lazing around and come out. Today I'll fix every bad habit you have."

The lost wanderer, who had been swinging his sword harder than ever in the center of the training ground, turned his head and replied calmly.

"I'd come even if you just asked for a normal spar."

Enkrid felt a little embarrassed and scratched his cheek.

"It's become a habit."

It was a habit he had picked up while calling out Rem and the others. Habits like that did not vanish in a moment.

Telling Rem, "You crazy barbarian bastard, come out, I'll break your nose," was no longer real provocation. It was basically a spar request.

"This time I'm coming from this side."

Ragna spoke and held his sword level with the ground.

Before, he had driven it down vertically. This time, he would swing horizontally.

If the last one felt like falling lightning, this one felt like a fortress wall collapsing all at once.

It was not faster than before, but there was nowhere to run. It felt like a giant boulder rolling straight at him.

As if saying, this is what a knight's strike is.

This time, Enkrid got two cracked ribs.

Still, he did not die.

A few days later, when the pain in his side faded and he was fine again, Sinar returned and saw Enkrid sweating in the training ground. She showed a rare expression.

It was only a slight lift of her left eyebrow, but Enkrid knew it meant she was surprised.

"Looks like you went far."

"Did you miss me, beaten-up fiance?"

"You learned to add qualifiers like that from Audin?"

"I'm not at an age to learn things from someone."

Enkrid nodded and raised his sword.

He had not forgotten what Sinar had shown when he collapsed.

If it had not been Ragna, he would have waited day and night, wondering when she would return.

Sinar lifted Naidhl and smiled.

It was an elf's smile she showed only to Enkrid.

Enkrid was not fooled by the bewitching spell of inhuman beauty.

Sinar dropped the smile and closed the distance.

Bang!

Was it thanks to Ragna?

It was slower than black lightning, and easier to block than that horizontal slash that rushed him like a full fortress wall with nowhere to evade.

Instead, her blade moved like a butterfly.

He blocked it, but then it bent in and dropped from above. He barely blocked that, and before he knew it, it looped around and stabbed toward his belly.

He somehow blocked and evaded.

He did not let his guard down, yet an unseen blade came for the back of his head.

A sword came down from the front, and a blade appeared from behind at the same time?

She had shown that trick once before.

It was the elf race's secret sword art built on the spirit of the forest.

"There is nowhere to dodge," Sinar said.

Enkrid smiled again.

He had no intention of dodging.

In an instant, he twisted to the side, blocked the Naidhl in the elf's hand with Aker in his right hand, then drew Gladius in his left and struck away the formless blade.

Tik. The formless blade vanished weakly, but he could not block Naidhl perfectly.

A few similar attacks left him with several cuts.

Of course he lost, and this time his thigh was almost pierced through.

"If she'd stabbed a little higher, you'd have become a brand-new life-form, neither man nor woman, for the rest of your life."

Watching that, Rem cracked a joke.

"I almost made a big mistake," Sinar said.

After the spar ended, she showed brief reflection.

"It's fine."

Enkrid did not care.

After that, his days stayed ordinary and not ordinary at the same time.

One day he sparred Ragna.

Another day he sparred Sinar.

In spare hours, he learned various techniques from Rem.

He spent time with Audin, then when Jaxon did not look any busier than before, he grabbed him and pestered him too.

"Pierce Without Killing Strike is not about making them know and still fail to block. It's about stabbing before they even know."

He did not need to learn everything, but just knowing many techniques would help.

That was why he kept learning and practicing all kinds of things.

The elf's blade could not be seen, but it got caught in his sensory net.

'In the end, is the ultimate form a stab they cannot see or feel?'

It was what he grasped by instinct about the elf's hidden art.

He reached that insight before Sinar showed it again.

Repeating days like this, repeating training like this, that was Enkrid's strength.

He also trained writing letters with his left hand, and kept his senses sharp by dodging daggers Jaxon threw at him.

Today was the same as always, boring enough to yawn at, but Enkrid simply did it.

For him, it was not hard.

As time passed like that, the Boatman appeared in Enkrid's dream.

It did not look like he came with anything specific to say. It looked more like he wanted to scold him, asking if this dull day was really fun, saying that if this was all, he should have stayed in a comfortable today.

But Enkrid asked first.

"When does the ominous one come?"

He had seen those blazing eyes many times. The world where the Boatman existed was inside the mindscape.

Eyes burning like that meant the soul itself was speaking.

He asked with everything he had. Desperation showed clearly.

The Boatman could not tell him that the ominous one, the curse-caster, had already gone to his death.

Had he not already warned him loudly to be careful?

Enkrid did not know that and asked again.

"Is it right in front of me now?"

The question looked less like hope and more like struggle. The Boatman could not answer.

"Then tomorrow?"

Enkrid asked again.

The Boatman only cursed inwardly in silence.

'Persistent bastard.'

He could not bring himself to say anything that would ruin his dignity, so after the day they became able to talk, the Boatman closed the world without saying a single word.

Enkrid met only a suddenly speechless Boatman, then woke from the dream.

= = =

Join our discord at https://dsc.gg/wetried