WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Abstract

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A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES

Chapter 479: When the Dawnbird Cries

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Two Giants came into view.

Enkrid walked forward.

Jiba, Geomnarae, the woman who cracked jokes, Hira, Rem, Arath, the things the western folk had shown him, the jokes they had shared.

All of that drifted through his mind as he walked.

Worth protecting? He thought so.

"I'll chew you both to pieces!"

A roar like a thunderclap burst from one of the Giants.

Enkrid did not slow his pace. He did not look away from them.

Could he read their full strength just by looking? No.

Did he think he would lose? No. Absolutely not.

Not the slightest trace of that feeling touched him.

The tribespeople called the two finest fighters among the Giants monsters.

Some of the western folk who spoke of Giants showed fear. Others forced themselves to dredge up courage.

Enkrid felt the gazes on his back.

Their eyes, their attention, their worry pressed into him. He felt all of it.

The Giants still filled his sight. They took up his entire field of vision. With them there, he could barely see anything else of the west.

"It's dangerous to go alone!"

The shout came from behind, from the western man who had shown hostility earlier, the one nursing feelings for Jiba's mother.

Dangerous, was it.

He didn't know about that.

What he knew was that it felt possible. And he wanted to do it.

"One's not enough!"

A Giant looked at Enkrid and said it, treating him like prey outright. He was walking toward them with a sword at his hip, and they still saw prey. Things with no eyes for anything.

Enkrid raised his head and met the Giant's gaze.

Nothing there but appetite and greed. No different from a beast.

He could have called them Demon Creatures and been close enough.

Ting.

He pressed his thumb against the guard latch, releasing it, and drew Aker. The blade slid out into the gentle sunlight.

"Stay out of it."

Enkrid said it, to Rem, who followed behind.

Rem's brow creased.

"Seriously?"

What's the point of going alone, his tone said.

"The person who fights better and hits harder should be the one to step up."

Enkrid gave a different answer than the question asked. It was a clear statement of intent.

"...God, you're something else. Really."

Rem muttered.

Because at this moment, Enkrid being ahead of Rem was simply true.

Two Giants, their skin flushed reddish.

Enkrid found himself curious about the color of their blood.

He kept moving toward them at a steady pace and stopped at a certain point, the kind of distance where a Giant's swinging club would be perfectly aimed to kill.

Enkrid had not slacked off on training since the fights in Thousand Brick.

Rem had been there as a sparring partner, and Ruagarne had helped too.

Dunbakel had occasionally stepped up as well.

Enkrid had been the same as always. He repeated the same things. Training and tempering.

Folding all of that into time, a small bud had formed inside him.

What he had learned from Knight Aoara, what she had left behind, and the gains that repetition had carried to him, all of it came together as one.

The petals of that bud stretched open, one by one.

"Is it just the two of you?"

He asked it and raised his sword.

Some people found peace in tranquility.

And then there were things that shattered that tranquility.

What stood before Enkrid now was exactly that.

Things that broke the peace. Things that threatened the west, threatened people, threatened lives.

* * *

Ruagarne found herself gripping the handle of the Loop Sword without realizing it.

What is this?

Enkrid was the same as before. No, he was not the same.

He swung his sword. A long downward slash, into empty air, it looked like. It was not. A Giant's foot appeared right where the blade reached.

The Giant had lunged to kick him without warning.

Which meant Enkrid had swung toward where the foot would land before it got there.

It was possible because he had read the motion and the shift of muscle.

Fwung, shhk!

Aker's blade slid smoothly across the Giant's instep, cutting and shaving as it passed.

The Giant drove a fist down at Enkrid as he stepped away.

Enkrid moved sideways, showing the Tree Frog Step.

He looked like he was shifting his weight left, then launched himself right.

Boom!

The fist struck empty ground. The earth shook, dust bloomed, and dirt and stone flew in every direction.

"This little..."

The gap in skill was obvious.

Giants knew nothing of practice, of tempering, of effort. That was because what they were born with was simply different.

A Giant that had survived this long and boasted this loudly was strong by that measure alone.

The heavy fist hit the ground and changed the terrain. Past the crater it dug, through the rising dust, a thin line was drawn.

Ruagarne narrowed her eyes.

The line curves?

A curved line drew itself like thread through the air.

Her Frog eyes recognized what that line was.

Aker. Enkrid. The sword he was swinging. Something that held Aoara's swordsmanship inside it, too.

A long, unbroken stroke, one continuous breath, drew its line across the Giant's forearm, shin, and flank.

Pwak!

The Giant's side opened in a deep gash and blood shot out.

It wore animal hide on the outside, but that did nothing.

Aker was sharp, and the one holding it wielded Will.

The dust still hung thick, but finding Enkrid inside it was easy.

Two points of blue light.

The owner of those indigo eyes stepped onto the Giant's foot, kicked off its knee, and launched himself upward.

"Graaaah!"

The Giant screamed something between a war cry and a wail and swept its hands wildly in front of its face.

It had even dropped its club.

"I'll help!"

The other Giant rushed in and swung an open palm.

The slashed Giant, bleeding from the side, clapped both palms together to catch Enkrid as he climbed up its chest.

Clang!

Of course, it caught nothing. The two palms sweeping like someone trying to swat a flying insect slapped together with a crack, and the other Giant's palm, swinging in from the side to help, slammed into its companion's chest with a heavy thud.

"Aaah!"

The Giant cried out.

Enkrid had already vaulted over the Giant's shoulder and landed behind it.

Not just over, going across, he drew the Gladius and dragged it along the Giant's back as if scoring a line against a wall.

Drrrrrrr.

"Aaaaaah!"

The Giant's screaming came in bursts. Purple blood ran freely from its flank, legs, forearms, and back.

It dropped to one knee and flailed both hands before it and behind it.

The one who had rushed in to help gripped its club with both hands and brought it down diagonally across its companion's back.

Hwang!

The blast of wind from the swing cleared the dust.

Enkrid was already gone.

The club swept through empty air again, and with a thick sound, the kneeling Giant acquired a new protrusion in the center of its face.

That protrusion was named Aker.

Enkrid pulled the sword free, the one he had driven up through the chin and through the skull.

With a crack of breaking bone, the blade came out and blood followed it down.

Purple blood poured from the Giant's face and the body tilted forward.

Thud.

One of them planted its head in the dirt and went down, forehead first.

The same pose Jiba's mother had used, though one was an expression of gratitude, and the other was simply a corpse.

"What are you!"

The remaining Giant shouted.

Was this a creature that needed conversation?

No.

Enkrid finished swinging his sword.

Ruagarne was a Frog and did not sweat.

Instead she worked her tongue constantly and rolled her eyes.

A knight?

That was not it. But flipping through everything she had ever seen and heard, this was something she had never seen before.

Not a knight.

If she had to place him somewhere, it was somewhere between a knight and a junior knight, perhaps.

Or put another way, the strongest junior knight on the continent.

Not quite a junior knight. Not yet a knight.

He could not wield Will freely, but at the moments that mattered, swordsmanship shaped by sheer force of will always came through without fail.

Just now was the same.

The speed of his step when he slipped away from the Giant's club was different.

The speed of the thrust he launched afterward was different.

It was a thrust similar to what had killed the Ghoul once before, and because of that, the Giant had not even tried to dodge, it simply died.

The last Giant lost its nerve. It rolled its eyes and said, "I actually think humans taste bad!"

The three Giants from before could think, but this one could not.

It just babbled nonsense.

"Won't eat anyone. Leaving! I'm leaving right now!"

There were sometimes stories on the continent about Giants being stupid, but if they were truly dull they would never have survived this long.

It was not that the Giant race was stupid. This particular one simply had a notably lower intelligence than the rest.

Enkrid looked at the creature with its wrist halfway severed and let his arm drop.

To Ruagarne's eyes it looked like he was setting up a final blow, but to the Giant it must have looked like carelessness.

"You believe me? Thanks. I have treasure. Lots of treasure. I'll give you treasure."

It said this while edging forward two slow steps.

Two Giant steps were more like two long strides, but the way it put its feet down carefully and watched for his reaction made it look like creeping.

It kept watching his face, then suddenly swung the club it had been holding.

At the same moment, Enkrid swung his sword.

One stroke flowing into the next, the Heavy Sword Style woven through it. His feet left the ground and his body slid forward like something released.

Of course, only Rem caught all of what was happening in those movements.

The swordsmanship was at that level.

A body advancing and becoming a line, a curve drawn by the sword becoming a blade that cut through anything.

Crunch.

The sword passed through muscle, bone, and nerve.

The club hit empty ground again with a heavy thud.

"Gkrk."

If muscle and organs had been sliced from chest to belly at more than a hand's depth, foaming at the mouth would have been more natural than speaking.

Still, the Giant's life force was remarkable. It stretched a leg backward until the very end.

Enkrid met it with the sword-gripping fist.

Bang!

Crack.

Bone punched through the skin of the instep. More blood flew. And the Giant died.

Silence fell. Stillness settled over everything.

Enkrid, without any particular fuss, wiped his blade on the dead Giant's fur clothing. Purple blood covered everything in every direction.

It was a day with sun-shading clouds, but clouds like these did not block out the sun entirely.

Right then, as if arranged, the clouds parted. Light poured down.

More brilliant sunlight than any moment before it.

The Tribal Chief watching it all was half in tears.

The largest tribe in the west had been at the edge of collapse.

Despair had come wearing many names.

A sorcerer from another land. A curse. Giants.

The curse was gone, but there was no room to breathe easy.

Because the Giants remained.

And now the Giants were dead.

The stone that had killed his people, eaten them, crushed them underfoot.

The mason who broke that stone turned around in the light. No, he turned, then turned back again, showing his back to them.

His gaze went out toward the land of the west.

"I can see it now."

He said it while looking toward the horizon.

Beyond the beautiful plain, the line stretching into the distance was achingly beautiful.

The Tribal Chief wept.

Because holding back tears was not the western way.

"Greet the great warrior."

The Tribal Chief said it.

The words broke through on a wave of emotion.

It was the Highest Praise for the one who had saved the tribe.

"Greet the warrior!"

Someone echoed the Tribal Chief's call.

Hira, who had woken from sleep to watch, stood with her mouth hanging open.

She had been amazed watching him fight the Twins, but this was something else entirely.

He had crossed a line. This was a monster, his skill, his ability, all of it.

The man Rem had brought had cut down the threat to her tribe. That simple fact sent a tremor through Hira.

"Aah."

A breathless sound left her. A trembling that felt like the moment of divine possession moved through her.

Some of the Sorcerers shuddered.

The warriors who had been defending the west clenched their fists.

Geomnarae knew Rem's strength, and because of that he also knew Rem alone could never have handled two Giants.

That was why he had dragged himself out of bed, still not healed, strapped on his armor, and gathered his totems.

And yet, there ahead of him, was someone who had carved through those two Giants not alongside Rem, but alone.

"That's not just being a little better at fighting than Rem."

Geomnarae muttered.

Not a little. The gap was plain.

Of course, he said that because he did not know the Rem of now.

But Rem had a similar feeling.

His heart was getting a little impatient.

Losing to Enkrid was fine.

But this was something else.

He needed Sorcery.

Enkrid was stepping into uncharted ground, using his sword as a walking staff as he went.

Rem had no intention of just watching.

And so the warrior who had ended the threat to the tribe with his sword came back from the horizon and made a request.

"Some water to wash up."

The Giant's blood was bothering him.

"Savior!"

Someone called out.

Excitement, heat, all of it rolled over the entire tribe.

It was scorching.

"Well, now. Enough to make the Dawn Bird cry."

Geomnarae said it, watching it all.

The Dawn Bird does not cry. It is the bird that leads the sun forward as it moves.

For the Dawn Bird to cry meant something so extraordinary had happened that even it was moved to tears.

Geomnarae sat down. If he was being honest, he did not have the strength left to stand. And quietly, a thought crept in.

He had asked to spar with him.

He was beginning to think that might have been a mistake.

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