WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Ryuu

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES

Chapter 49: Madness, Passion, Ambition, and Desire

"We won."

"We fucking won!"

"Screw you, Azpen bastards!"

Victory brought cheers. Cheers brought heat. Heat brought madness. The intense energy intertwined, sweeping over the entire battlefield.

What is the greatest achievement of a battle?

It's when you chase down fleeing enemies. Naurillia bit down hard on Azpen's tail.

"Uwooo!"

Before honoring the dead, the joy of victory swept through the allies first. It was only natural for some madness to appear. Just a few days ago, they were on the brink of annihilation. The terror of death brought by the fog was still deeply etched in their hearts.

Now, after having achieved an overwhelming victory in the face of such fear;

"Long live the Red Cloak Knights!"

"Long live Naurillia!"

The squire did not reveal his name. Instead, the name of the knightly order soared high.

"Long live the Red Cloak Knights!"

Those cheers, that heat, that madness. At the forefront of the battlefield, receiving all the applause, stood the figure at the center of it all. With a flourish, the squire's symbolic red cloak billowed as he raised a hand in response to the cheers.

"Uwooo!"

Some soldiers, drunk on victory, shed tears of joy. Everyone shouted in celebration, intoxicated by the frenzy. Enkrid quietly murmured to himself:

"Me too."

No one heard his words, but they contained his long-held dream. The madness and heat spread, making Enkrid's heart race. The end of the battle, the last night on the battlefield. Despite the considerable number of casualties, Enkrid felt exhilarated. He recalled the words of a sword instructor from the big city, who had three missing fingers:

"A guy with no talent who eats sword fodder? He's one of two kinds. Either he enjoys the battlefield or he enjoys killing. Ah, maybe there's a third kind. The ones who live without thinking."

‘I think I'm the kind that enjoys the battlefield.’

He envied the cheers. He had the ambition to stand at the forefront. More than just wielding a sword, he wanted to tear through the battlefield. He didn't hone his martial arts solely because he was intoxicated by the sword.

Enkrid thought about what he did in this battle. He had struggled to survive, that was all. In the end, he did earn some credit by tearing down the flag and breaking the sorcery's medium.

‘But that was also a struggle to survive.’

The sudden surge of exhilaration masked Enkrid's dream and called forth the ambition and desire he had forgotten due to his lack of talent.

‘A knight.’

He would become one. He was determined. This was a moment of reaffirmation.

"It's fucking noisy."

Rem, wandering the battlefield aimlessly, said as he picked his ear. He didn't seem to enjoy the battlefield or killing. There was no sign of exhilaration.

Next to him, Ragna yawned.

"Isn't it over now? Can't we retreat tonight?"

As if that would happen tonight. This guy must be one of those who live without thinking. Jaxon was already cleaning his blade with leather. He was maintaining his sword. He didn't say it or show it, but Jaxon was probably one of those who enjoyed something too.

Who knows? He was always good at hiding himself.

"Wow, the battle ended just like that. Think this would sell if I turned it into a story or a song?"

"Do you even know how to make songs, brother?"

"No. I'd get another bard to do it."

"If you make a song about something you didn't witness yourself, that's fraud."

"Fraud? That's a big accusation. It's not like that, Audin."

Big Eyes and the devout squad member, who could even sell the battlefield, had an incomprehensible conversation. On the day Enkrid tore the sorcery's medium, it was said the devout squad member was soaked in blood as if he had bathed in it.

It meant he had fought ferociously. He seemed calm and quiet, but he possessed overwhelming power.

The reason he stood on the battlefield was unknown. Thoughts led to more thoughts, and Enkrid placed his squad members in his own position.

‘If it were Rem.’

He wouldn't have just pierced and torn the flag. Even if it were Ragna, Jaxon, or the devout squad member. They all would have fought better than him.

‘Next time, more.’

As the exhilaration of the battlefield squeezed his heart, the reaction made desire blossom in Enkrid's chest. The night after the battle, the command distributed food and drink. They served salted rabbit meat, venison, and strong liquor in large oak barrels.

"Liquor, liquor!"

Rem and Ragna went crazy over liquor.

"I only drink wine."

The devout squad member, Audin, refused the strong drink, and Jaxon didn't touch alcohol at all.

"I prefer women over alcohol."

He said it without hesitation. Despite such a statement, why did women flock to him?

‘It must be his face.’

Even Enkrid attracted women effortlessly. It was thanks to his face. His well-toned, muscular body was also a lethal weapon to women.

"This is cheap booze. I won't drink it."

Big Eyes had a refined palate. As the night deepened, the battalion commander entered the tent.

"444 squad leader?"

Enkrid stood up at the sound of someone calling for him. By now, the heat had cooled, and everyone was preparing to sleep. Due to his injuries, Enkrid hadn't touched a drop of alcohol. As a result, he didn't fail to recognize the battalion commander's face.

"An injured man drinking? An injured guy drinking? Drinking when you're injured?"

Rem chided him.

"You should refrain. Focus on recovering first."

Jaxon also dissuaded him. Ragna shook his head silently. Big Eyes chuckled as he watched Enkrid. They were truly crazy squad members. When Enkrid stepped outside at the battalion commander's call, the commander, smelling of alcohol, waved off the salute.

"The flag was the medium for the sorcery? And you tore it?"

It sounded like he had found the one who contributed decisively to the battle by breaking the sorcery.

Crackle, crackle.

Embers from the bonfire floated in the air.

"Yes."

Enkrid answered calmly.

"There will be a reward when we return. Well done."

The battalion commander patted Enkrid's shoulder. It was quite an acknowledgment. It was the first time Enkrid had exchanged words with the battalion commander since becoming a squad leader. It showed how significant Enkrid's actions had been.

He had changed the tide of battle. However, only a few people knew this. Specifically, only the command knew.

In all likelihood, the command would take the credit for overcoming the sorcery in this battle. He didn't mind. Instead, the reward would be substantial.

‘I'm not disappointed.’

Normally, he would think he deserved the credit for what he did.

‘It was a struggle.’

Seeing the knight, or rather just the squire, had changed his perspective. He felt he had gained more than this small achievement.

"You look good."

After the battalion commander left, Enkrid was about to enter the tent again when he heard soft footsteps on the ground.

"Who is it?"

He turned towards the source of the sound and saw eyes like emeralds. In the dark of night, they looked eerie, like a ghost's.

Inhuman beauty.

It was the elven company commander.

"You'll receive a proper reward for tearing the flag."

That seemed to be all she had to say, as she turned to leave. Just as she was about to go, she turned her head and spoke again.

"Aren't you going to salute?"

Enkrid belatedly mimed holding a weapon with his left hand, and the elven commander waved her hand dismissively.

"Never mind. I'm off."

What kind of elf was she?

As the company commander left and he re-entered the tent, he found Rem lying down with his arm under his head.

"Don't leave me just because you're getting popular, Squad Leader."

"Are you drunk?"

"I'm not drunk."

It was a joke. Night had deepened. Enkrid closed his eyes and recalled what he had seen and felt from the squire.

There was much to do once his body healed.

After waking up, the Naurillia infantry battalion headed for Border Guard. After a four-day march, they faced the city walls of the fortress city, Border Guard.

It was a city with long walls and three large watchtowers built high on a plateau higher than other areas. This was the last bastion against Azpen.

The fortress city, Border Guard.

The appearance of the squire from the Red Cloak Knights could change the tide of the battlefield. Until now, the skirmishes on the Green Pearl Plains had remained small-scale because of an unspoken rule not to deploy knight forces.

In this situation, the Kingdom of Naurillia had played its trump card by deploying a squire. Naurillia had broken the unspoken rule. Even though the person on the battlefield was in the process of transitioning from squire to proto-knight, crossing the line was crossing the line.

"Those bastards!"

The Duke of Azpen exploded in anger. His eyes turned red, and veins bulged on his forehead.

"Send ours out too!"

Just because he commanded it didn't mean they could be sent out immediately.

It was winter.

Starting a war in winter would severely weaken both nations. If a full-scale war was expected instead of a skirmish, they would need to gather their national strength. Moreover, Azpen's main forces were currently absent for some reason. To fight properly, Azpen also needed time.

At the end of the war, no matter how furious the other side was, with their heads ready to explode like a volcano, they had to endure it as winter approached.

Naurillia had likely anticipated this and deployed their forces at the end of the war. Conversely, Azpen had read the timing of winter's approach and deployed a sorcerer.

However, their prepared sword was blocked, while the other side’s dagger was deeply embedded in their arm. It hurt. If things went wrong, they might lose the use of an arm.

"Apply diplomatic pressure. It's an issue that they deployed a knight to the battlefield."

The Duke of Azpen, known for his belligerence, couldn’t let this go, speaking with a voice simmering with rage.

The Principality of Azpen was a country supported by three families.

The Duke of Azpen.

The power of Hurrier.

And the administration and state affairs of Ekins.

Diplomacy was the responsibility of the Ekins family. Ekins' ambassador was in a difficult position. It was because of the letter from Naurillia. The letter had arrived around the same time the Red Cloak Knight was deployed, indicating that Naurillia had perfectly prepared their excuse.

The letter stated that a Frog General from Azpen had appeared in the enemy camp, and they had deployed the knight to counter him. The reason was plausible. It was too appropriate.

Why did that Frog General have to be there?

Frogs naturally lived as they pleased. Problems like this were inevitable when they were put into military roles.

‘Even if it wasn't a general, they would have found another excuse.’

Ekins were no fool. Naurillia wouldn't have impulsively sent a knight. The Frog General was just a convenient excuse, but even if it weren't him, Naurillia would have come up with a suitable justification.

In conclusion, Azpen had been played. The root of this issue was the failure of their sorcery.

If the Fog of Annihilation had succeeded, unless a true knight appeared, the long, drawn-out skirmishes on the Green Pearl Plains would have been a decisive victory for Azpen. Ekins recalled the report that an enemy soldier had disrupted the sorcery.

‘Are they really blaming it on one enemy soldier for their failure in vigilance?’

How could that make sense?

Everyone involved in this would be held accountable. The sorcerer had been found dead after the retreat. Whether it was passing bandits or someone else, both the sorcerer and his escorts were found cut in half.

‘Nothing is going right.’

"Are we just going to let this go?"

The Duke forgot his dignity and shouted. The secret plan Ekins had strongly pushed for this fall had backfired. The skirmishes ended with Azpen’s defeat.

After ten days, Enkrid felt fully recovered. So, the moment he got up, he immediately sought out Rem.

"Rem."

"What is it?"

Rem, who had just finished his guard duty, stood before Enkrid.

"Let's spar."

"Spar?"

"A duel."

"......Didn’t you just recover?"

What does that matter?

He was itching to fight now. Enkrid expressed it with his face. If that was a skill, it was a skill. Conveying his thoughts through just his eyebrows and lips.

"Alright. If you want to, you should. You’ll just get beaten up again."

"Come at me, you arrogant barbarian."

"Oh boy, do you want your leg broken this time?"

Rem accepted Enkrid’s provocation with a laugh. The two soon stepped outside. Ragna, watching this, agreed with Rem on one thing despite the rest. The squad leader was the craziest person he had ever seen.

How could someone with such little talent immediately challenge others to fights as soon as he got up?

Less than thirty minutes later, Enkrid opened the door again.

"Ragna, your turn. I’ll cleanse your laziness."

A delighted squad leader. Blood crusted on one side of his head where he had been bleeding, but he wore a bright expression.

"Yes, yes, let's do it."

Ragna didn't waste energy arguing. A few rounds would do. This was their routine.

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