WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES

Chapter 449

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"My grandfather carved that gate himself, with his own sword. Impressive, right?"

Aoara said it, and Enkrid offered a fitting response.

"Is that so."

"Ah, I miss my ex-husband."

"...Out of nowhere?"

Aoara still said things that made no sense. She seemed impulsive. Looking at everything she had done so far, she was not someone who planned ahead.

"Once I kill that ex-husband bastard, the Cursed Ground ends too."

It made no sense, but Enkrid took it in stride. His years dealing with Rem and the rest had not gone to waste.

"Your ex-husband lives in the Cursed Ground?"

That calm question made Aoara laugh out loud. No one had ever responded quite like that.

"Ah, it's just some guy with the same name."

Romen had drifted over at some point and spoke up from beside her. The short blond came from the other side carrying a bottle and a metal cup. A few rounds were poured.

"Hey, what are you drinking? Give me some."

Rem appeared.

"Go ahead."

Aoara nodded.

Uncharacteristically, the western barbarian only wet his lips and listened quietly.

Aoara did most of the talking.

They sat however they liked, using a tree stump as a table. The weather was pleasant enough that nothing felt uncomfortable.

The breeze was cool and the drink was just the right kind of agreeable.

Jerky was the only thing to eat alongside it, but that was fine too.

"The guy's name is Jerix."

After hearing the whole story, Enkrid found it in poor taste.

Why give a name to a Demon Creature living in the Cursed Ground?

Not that it was his place to say so, so he kept the thought to himself.

It had been back in Aoara's squire days.

She had fallen for a man, married him, and wanted to live close beside him, but he had suddenly been struck by wanderlust and left.

A remarkably handsome traveling bard, apparently.

Aoara announced without any shame that she was the sort who warmed to a face.

Enkrid had almost asked whether that was something to be proud of, but stopped himself.

"Men should just look like me," Romen said.

Rem nodded, but Aoara did not even pretend to hear it.

"He's also part of why I became a knight."

If something like that could drive someone to become a knight, Enkrid figured he could have his heart broken a thousand times over and it still would not do the same for him.

Of course, the real reason Aoara became a knight would not have been some foolish former lover.

He also heard that after everything, Jerix had gone on to leave dozens of women in tears.

The conversation carried on for a few more exchanges, and somewhere in the middle they fell quiet and drained their cups.

It was not strong liquor. Just the right kind for sitting back and drinking at ease.

A cool, dry breeze, something he had not felt in days. The beautiful walls he had seen that morning. The stories, the drink. Everything came together into a good night.

"Before I die, I'm going to sweep away that Cursed Ground."

Aoara said it without warning. To Enkrid, it sounded like this: even if death came for her eventually, she would be the one to finish off the Cursed Ground in front of her before it did.

He was still turning that over in his head when Aoara slapped the dirt off her backside and stood up.

"Sleep well."

With that, both junior knights left.

"That woman looks like she could storm the Cursed Ground any day now, doesn't she?"

Rem read things quickly. He had caught the same thing Enkrid had.

"Yeah."

But the Cursed Ground was not something you could close just because you wanted to.

Kill the Demon Creature at its core and it ends?

Then how hard was that Demon Creature to fight?

Not easy, he was certain of that.

If it were easy, someone would have geared up long ago, walked in, slit its throat, and walked back out.

So Aoara was waiting for the right moment. And it seemed like she wanted that moment to come soon.

Not something to think about right now, though.

Enkrid dusted off his own backside and got up. He shook the dirt from his clothes and washed himself roughly at the well beside the lodging house.

After that quick wash, he came back inside to find Dunbakel lying on her bunk, unwashed for days.

Boots caked in dirt, clothes in a heap, it was all plain to see. She had stripped down entirely and lay wrapped in nothing but a thin blanket.

Dunbakel felt his gaze and opened her eyes.

"Hold me?"

"How about I wash you instead?"

"I'm sleeping. I'm sleeping right now."

Dunbakel shut her eyes tight and said it.

It had been such a good day that Enkrid decided to save the lecture for tomorrow.

Dunbakel had no idea how lucky she was.

"You look like you're in a good mood."

Ruagarne, who had become something of an expert at reading Enkrid's expressions, spoke from her bunk. She was finishing her meditation and lying down.

Ruagarne prayed to the Frog deity every few days, and today must have been one of those days.

If it had not been, she would have come out and had a drink and added her own voice to the conversation.

Ruagarne enjoyed spending time with humans, and especially with Enkrid.

There was something worth watching in him, something worth talking to, and something worth looking forward to, so there was no reason she would not enjoy it.

That was how Ruagarne saw it.

"Do I?"

Enkrid asked back and nodded. He himself felt it had been a pretty good day.

He answered and lay down. Drowsiness came over him. With the thought that it had been a lucky day, Enkrid fell asleep quickly.

Then, not long after, he woke.

It was not the time he normally woke. Not even midnight yet.

Keeeaaaaahhh!

A shriek rang out from far away. Not a human sound. Unmistakably a Demon Creature.

* * *

"Enjoy this one too."

The Boatman appeared in the dream, but only for a very brief moment.

He could not say for certain, but that was how it felt.

The moment Enkrid heard the shriek, he snapped upright and grabbed his sword.

Then he got armed. Armor first, then the dagger sheath, three swords, the shield, the Throwing Spear.

"What was that."

Rem was awake too. He armed himself at about the same speed as Enkrid.

Dunbakel and Ruagarne did the same.

They went outside. A commander leading twenty soldiers came into view.

All armed with longbows, with Shortswords, axes, or iron-banded clubs at their waists.

"Did the noise wake you?"

The twenty pairs of footsteps were unhurried. The commander at the front raised a fist as he asked. At his signal, the soldiers slowed.

Weren't the soldiers far too calm about this?

Enkrid thought it and answered.

"We heard a scream."

It had been a strange kind of scream.

"Probably Screaming Spiders. They've been multiplying lately, so something must have stirred inside the Cursed Ground again."

The commander was unruffled. This was clearly not the first or second time.

Whooooo.

An owl's cry drifted in from far off.

"Looks like Owlbears came along too."

The commander's manner did not change. Steady and calm.

"Right then."

He brought his right hand to his waist in a military salute and moved out.

Without breaking formation, the twenty soldiers quickened their pace slightly.

Enkrid fell in behind them.

"Pretty calm about it," Rem said from behind.

"Hard to blame them. This is the border of the Cursed Ground, and fights like this are their everyday."

Ruagarne added. Ruagarne glanced up at the two moons hanging above. Clouds were rolling in from one side, looking like they would cover the moons any moment.

That would make it quite dark.

With that thought, Enkrid kept walking, and there was the west gate.

"Um, hey."

Dunbakel pressed close to Enkrid's side as they walked and opened her mouth.

"What?"

Dunbakel's nose twitched repeatedly. She had caught a strange smell, or not quite a smell, more like a signal carried in a scent.

Since childhood, she had been the only one who could detect it, which had once gotten her called a liar.

Even among Beastfolk who used scent as a form of communication, this had been hard for them to accept.

Occasionally, certain Demon Creatures used scent the way humans used sound, as a signal between them.

Smell was a sense just like hearing, after all.

Which meant that just because only Dunbakel had caught a scent the others could not, that did not mean it was not there.

She had spoken up about this before and been treated like a fool. After that, she had never said anything like it again.

She had no desire to be made to feel stupid twice.

'Can I say it now?'

Enkrid's gaze settled on her. Same as always. The eyes of a madman pushing relentlessly forward.

If she brought up this kind of worry, what would this man say?

"Whether I believe it or not doesn't matter. Say what you want to say."

The imagined Enkrid in her head gave her that push, and Dunbakel spoke.

"There's something out there. Things using scent as signals."

Dunbakel said it, and Enkrid did not ask her to repeat himself. He simply took in the information. He did not question whether it was true, either.

For now, he believed her. She was one of his people. If he did not believe her, who would?

Dunbakel felt relief at his response, and then Ruagarne spoke.

"Demon Creatures communicating with each other isn't uncommon."

It was an answer drawn from a deep store of experience.

Kaaaaah.

Just then, a crow flew overhead.

Its cry sounded like a horrible scream.

Like something fleeing in terror.

That was the moment the group reached the west wall.

"Fire!"

Exactly as Enkrid had expected, soldiers lining the top of the wall were loosing arrows in volleys.

With walls and knights and squires here, this was the natural way to fight.

"Nock! Nock!"

"Hold, wait! Wait!"

"Fire arrows only, get us some light! Get us some light!"

The commander's shouts rang out.

Everything around them was dark. It was the middle of the night, so of course it was. The red light spat out by torches threw shadows that rolled and swelled along the top of the wall.

It looked almost like shadow-formed Magic Beasts surging forward.

Enkrid reached the base of the wall and climbed the stairs.

A soldier carrying a bundle of arrows was visible making his way up the narrow steps.

A brisk pace, but not panicked. Composed.

"Doesn't look like a serious problem," Rem said.

Enkrid said nothing and assessed the situation.

From the top, he could see a commander bellowing with the veins standing out in his neck.

"Fire!"

The commander's shout broke out again, and the snap and thrum of bowstrings followed in a rush.

Something over twenty archers released at once.

Whoooosh!

The arrows arced through the air, cutting across the moonlight as they fell.

Looking by moonlight alone, he could see a mass of spiders crawling across the ground in the distance.

Each one as large as a human. Demon Creatures, without question.

"Giant Spiders," Ruagarne said.

Enkrid had heard of them, though this was his first time seeing them.

But weren't Giant Spiders only supposed to reach knee height at most?

He tried to gauge their size.

From up on the wall they looked small, so in reality they would be larger. The head of one crawling along the ground looked like it would come up somewhere around his waist.

While Enkrid was watching the spiders..."You came?"

It was Aoara. She stood on the wall with her arms folded and called out to him.

Enkrid walked over to her.

"Forget about sleeping, then?"

"Looks that way."

Aside from the alcohol, there was a trace of tiredness. Anyone felt it when sleep was cut short. Aoara was no different.

Knights had surpassed their limits, but that did not mean they could go without sleep or food.

They were people who killed well.

Not people who lived without eating or sleeping.

Enkrid acknowledged that much.

Still, he figured this much was manageable.

If it came to it, he could go two nights without sleep and act like nothing was wrong.

His balance with the sword might slip by a hair, but he would not let that happen.

So a knight should be even better off, shouldn't she?

Enkrid looked at Aoara's face. The shadows under her eyes, the redness in them, the dull look to her skin.

She looked like a serf's wife coming home from a full day in the fields. Fatigue was written across her face.

All from a few cups of low-proof liquor? Or from not sleeping enough?

That seemed like too much for either of those reasons.

"Today was supposed to be a rest day," Aoara murmured.

A necklace bearing a religious symbol swayed near her chest.

Even in the darkness, the blue gemstone bled light.

Enkrid's thoughts moved fast.

Rest day, knight, Cursed Ground, the dream, Jerix, the Cursed Ground again, Thousand Bricks, Romen imitating a knight's sword.

"Before I die, I'm going to sweep away that Cursed Ground."

The last words he had heard before closing his eyes fell into place as the final piece.

"Are you ill?"

He asked it, and Aoara blinked a few times.

"What?"

"Or not?"

When it came to reading people, she would have put herself first on the continent. Aoara realized again, with some surprise, that this man looked blank on the surface but was sharp and relentless underneath.

"You're perceptive. Romen didn't notice for six months."

Romen was more attentive than he appeared, but slow to catch on. Aoara had hidden it that well.

Aoara quietly spread her cloak to block the line of sight from the other soldiers and lifted her shirt. She was not wearing armor underneath.

Below the soft fabric, blue veins stood out in knots across her stomach.

"It's poison," Aoara said.

As she spoke, the clouds that had been creeping along all this time swallowed the moon.

Darkness settled.

Fwoooomph.

Wind gusted and the torches shook, and Aoara's shadow looked like it was being torn apart.

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