WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES

Chapter 497: The Chief Cried Again Today

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Bang!

Enkrid reflexively swung Aker. A diagonal slash, bottom to top. For one split second he caught a glimpse of Rem grinning.

The collision sent dust billowing out in rings between them. The shockwave knocked several onlookers flat on their backsides. Over the crossed axe and sword, their eyes met.

Blue eyes and gray.

"You blocked that?"

Rem asked. His grinning face radiated something feral. The air around him was thick with violence, like he might lunge forward and tear out a throat.

"Should I have just stood there and taken it?"

Drd drd drd.

Even as they bantered, Enkrid's feet slid back a little. A pebble caught under his heel cracked and split.

Neither of them let up even a hair.

Rem was quietly impressed.

That last axe swing had carried the same quality as Aoara's swordsmanship, when you thought about it.

Different technique, same weight of force.

A Knight's Strike, plain and simple.

And Enkrid had stopped it. With a Knight's Strike of his own? No. In the instant of that exchange, Rem recognized exactly what Enkrid had done.

He raised the sword and absorbed the force, used a solid wrist to redirect part of it, then bent his knees and ankles to take the rest.

He had stopped a blow worth calling a Knight's Strike by mixing tempered physical conditioning with precise technique.

Under normal circumstances, his wrist would have snapped and the bone come punching out through the skin.

The tendons and muscular armor of that rock-solid wrist had filled in the gaps left by the imperfect deflection.

That was more impressive than any Knight's Strike trick.

At his current level, he would not be pushed around easily even against that old Ghoul.

How could you not be impressed?

"Seriously, don't die on me."

Rem said it, then laughed again, and his canines looked longer than before.

Then the axe vanished from Enkrid's sight.

The farsight that had been active all along was suddenly cut off.

Panic would get him killed. That was the first thing he had learned in battles where death came close. He held on with boldness, and the Heart of the Beast pounded.

Enkrid raised Aker straight up.

He let his senses sharpen until he could find a thin needle dropped on a sandbar.

The Sensory Technique.

A bright blue instinct, sharp as a blade, found the axe. Upper left.

Enkrid pulled his right foot back half a step and swung his sword upward.

Blade met axe before he had fully extended either elbow.

Clang!

Another explosion of sound.

In that moment Enkrid tried to rotate his sword and wrap around the blow, while Rem drove his axe downward and shot out a leg.

The kick came like a thrown spear. Rem's foot hit Enkrid's stomach with the force of a speartip, and the air burst out of him.

Bwump!

A clean hit would have obliterated every organ at once.

Enkrid twisted away by the thinnest margin. A section of his armor tore apart in exchange.

Magic Beast hide armor, and Rem's kick shredded it like a rag. Something that barely scratched against ordinary sword strikes, gone just like that.

"Yee-haw."

Rem shouted. He looked drunk on something. The axe became a single streak of light and came flying in.

Enkrid reacted again.

He detonated the Heart of Superhuman Strength and drove his sword down. A technique he had drilled into muscle and bone by repeating what he had come to understand.

Weapon deflection.

He swung his sword at an angle close to the attacker's and knocked it off course midway, a precise move that blended the flowing sword with the heavy sword.

Clang!

Axe and sword met again. This time the impact was smaller. The feeling left in Enkrid's hand was almost weightless.

At that same instant, something else came at his neck instead of the axe blade.

Fwsh!

Enkrid threw his head back and watched a line cut through the air where his neck had been.

Rem was now holding a short dagger in his left hand. A Karambit, a western-style curved blade.

He caught a glimpse of Rem's face, the dagger held in a reverse grip, the blade covering the lower half of his mouth. His eyes were visible. The corners curved in a way that suggested a smile.

Stop moving and die. The old Enkrid who used to close his eyes in the face of death no longer existed, so he brought his sword straight down.

Connect point to point. A descending line, and the sword became a white lightning bolt.

"Hiya!"

With something between a war cry and a howl, Rem drove his axe up from below to meet the white lightning.

* * *

The result of the spar? He lost.

Not without putting up a fight, though.

"How was it?"

Enkrid brushed sweat and dust and clinging hair from his face as he answered.

"Useful."

Win or lose, his manner never changed. This was sparring, not a fight to the death.

He had learned things, too. No, he had seen something strange.

Why does this madman have no wind-up?

"It's called the Feather-Axe technique. A bit different from when I do it with a practice piece."

Rem cackled as he said it. The axe spun in his hand, and while it looked almost light to the eye, Enkrid had just traded blows with it and could not see it that way at all.

If Rem called a Lewes Iron axe a practice piece, the person who forged it probably deserved some sympathy. But Rem looked thrilled.

He had beaten Enkrid more times than anyone could count, yet here he was again, drunk on the victory like it was his first.

"I am none other than the hero Rem."

"Best Sorcerer around? Save it. Don't flatter yourself."

"Another round? Come at me whenever."

"Hahaha, you feel reassured? Why are you stating the obvious?"

"The Feather-Axe technique isn't something you can learn just by trying. You'd have to pick up Sorcery first, but forget it. Learning Sorcery would be pointless for you."

All of that delivered solo, both hands planted on his hips, talking to himself.

Enkrid had not said a single word, yet Rem kept going happily.

Though why was his head tilted back toward the sky like that?

"Rua."

"What?"

Ruagarne, who had been trembling lately, and not just lately but often, answered Enkrid's question.

"Where's the nearest temple?"

Enkrid figured that absorbing Sorcery had finally broken something in Rem's head. He seemed far too pleased with himself.

He might need Audin-style treatment. A hammer to the skull was probably the most appropriate cure for Rem right now.

"Hahaha."

Rem was still laughing hard.

Is winning against me really that enjoyable?

That thought was natural enough for Enkrid to have.

He felt no shame at the loss, no humiliation to shake off.

He only replayed it in his head, looking for what to take away.

Same as always.

"Bwahaha, alright, let's go again."

"Sure, show me something."

"Just one thing? I'll teach you twenty. Ahem."

Rem's nose went up another notch. Standing face to face, you might only see his chin.

He always seemed half mad. Right now he seemed fully mad.

That day there were three more rounds.

The Twins watching from the side were amazed as Enkrid pushed to the edge and rolled across the ground.

Ruagarne trembled quietly, rehearsing what she needed to say to Enkrid.

Dunbakel watched Rem with a serious expression.

She had a feeling that level of excitement was going to reach her sooner or later.

"Hey, you directionally-impaired bastard, wait for me! I'm coming to slit your throat!"

Rem roared at the sky.

From what Enri had heard, Rem found his Sorcery not just yesterday or the day before. So why was the roaring only happening now?

Enri had thought the man was not quite right the last time he saw him. Looking now, the man was simply insane.

No other label was needed.

"Boss, isn't Rem a little, uh, dangerous?"

He slipped over to Enkrid and said it quietly, and Enkrid asked back.

"Are you a nobleman by any chance?"

"What? No."

If he were, why would he be out here doing hunting work.

"Then it's fine."

What does that have to do with anything?

"He doesn't usually bite non-nobles."

Enri frowned as Enkrid finished saying that. Hard to make any sense of it.

Enkrid had too much on his mind and had mostly said whatever came out.

Rem's axe swings moved on a different track from anything he had known before.

How did he do it?

No wind-up at all, yet the force loaded into each swing exceeded the Heart of Superhuman Strength.

He had come back from receiving Sorcery, and now he was stronger and faster than before.

His instincts, everything, had risen.

Right, so it's close to what a knight with Will can do.

That much made sense. But what about that axe arriving with no preparatory motion?

That was what cut off the farsight. There was no room to steer things toward a contest of reads.

Thinking it through did not mean understanding everything. Even trying to guess the process from the result was not easy.

Just because you watched Aoara's sword, could you copy it exactly?

No. Same thing here.

The vital-energy swordsmanship Sinar had shown him was not something he could replicate just from watching, either.

Turning it over in his head, he could dimly guess the principle behind Rem's axe swings.

He was swinging without thinking.

The same approach as before, which was how Enkrid could recognize it.

No thinking before moving, so there was no Attack Line to read.

Hit what he saw. Strike what he saw. Break what he saw.

Trusting what? Trusting his own combat instincts.

The moment intent forms, the hand is already moving.

Monstrous strength lets him swing that axe like a branch, so before the opponent can react, the axe has already landed.

Every axe swing worked that way. His feet and hands all worked the same way.

His whole body was a weapon. Could you arrive at that just by learning Sorcery?

Not a chance.

There were years of conditioning behind it, moments of technique being understood, and then Sorcery was layered on top.

So Sorcery was a tool that helped Rem do what he already wanted to do.

And Will? Will would be the same.

Having Will did not mean everything you intended would just come true. In the end the body had to move, and movement became action.

Sitting there, Enkrid added what he had picked up from Rem to what he had already understood.

The three rounds today were not the end. There would be more to learn, and that time was waiting ahead.

It made him genuinely, deeply happy, so he laughed.

"Haha."

Unable to hold back the joy and exhilaration, he let it out.

"Kheuheuheuheu, wildcat, I'm coming for you."

Beside him, Rem leaned back and laughed.

"Grrrrr."

Beside him, Ruagarne puffed out her cheeks, trembling.

"Nyahaha."

Right next to all of them, the filthy Beastfolk woman laughed because everyone else was. No unease, no sense that Rem was about to do anything to her, good was good.

Enri watched them and wavered for a moment, wondering if trusting Enkrid and throwing in with this scheme was the right call.

Is this really okay?

No idea. The dice had already been thrown.

Enkrid finished laughing and checked Aker's blade with a faint smile still on his face.

Rem's brutal axe strikes had chipped the blade of Aker, sword among swords, in three places.

He was going to need a good whetstone and some serious sharpening time.

"By the way, is it alright to give that bow away like that?"

Rem asked offhandedly once he had calmed down.

The bow given to Enri was valuable, and it had also been a gift.

"The person who gave it to me would understand. It went toward saving a life."

Enkrid answered while rubbing linseed oil into the blade.

Archery did not suit his constitution and he had no ambitions for it and had never trained for it. He knew the basics of shooting a bow, but it was not something he needed.

If he could put it toward something like this, the price of a life, nothing could be better.

Enri had saved his life.

"So when are you leaving?"

"Dawn tomorrow."

Enkrid answered, then washed up, lay down, and slept. After a solid rest he ate a full breakfast and packed emergency rations and the like.

Enri, left behind with a single Velopter, bowed his head.

The Velopter he had emptied his savings to buy felt almost like a symbol of good fortune now. The creature had caught the scent of luck fish and led him here, which had ultimately saved Enkrid's life.

"It was good seeing you again."

"We'll see each other again, won't we?"

"Hm? Oh, yes. If things work out, yes, I'll have to stop by Border Guard."

Enri, who had been a hunter, had cut his hair short and now had a decent look about him.

"Hey, Enri, why exactly are you out here?"

Rem only thought to ask that as they were about to leave. Enri gave a vague laugh, and Enkrid told him the honest truth.

"He got his heart broken."

"Ah."

Rem nodded. Got dumped.

"......Commander, being turned down by a widow was just the catalyst. After traveling around I decided that running a trading company suited me, that's why I'm doing this."

Enri added more, but nobody was listening. He had become the man who found a new path through the pain of heartbreak.

"Alright, we're off. Twins, give Enri a hand."

The Twins nodded.

Rem looked at Arath.

"If he drops dead somewhere, don't forget to let me know."

Arath said it to Enkrid, who was standing behind Rem, and Enkrid found it a little awkward and took a moment to choose his words.

"Does Rem look like the kind of man who dies just anywhere?"

"I'm going to have some fun."

Rem's farewell was light as air. The feeling behind those words was not shallow, but both of them were cheerful. No sadness, no pain, no grief. No unease at parting. They would meet again, and each would do what they had to do in their own place. That trust existed between them.

Arath nodded and hugged Rem once.

"I'll name the baby myself."

"Make it a good name."

"Yeah."

Friendship, love, or understanding, Enkrid could not say what to call what existed between those two.

He only thought about more practical things. If it went wrong, there was always a second option.

"If things don't work out, come live at Border Guard."

"I have plenty to do in the Western lands too."

Arath answered without smiling. She was not wrong. She really did have a great deal to do.

For now, the food problem would have to come first.

She had burned everything calling that bird of longing.

"Let's go."

Rem stepped off first. Enkrid, Ruagarne, and Dunbakel followed.

It was time to head back.

* * *

"What's all this?"

The Tribal Chief of the Narae Tribe looked at the pile of smoked ham, dried fruit, and vegetables before him and asked.

The merchant who had transported everything here, bodyguards posted behind him, answered.

"A gift from His Majesty the supremely exalted and wise King of Naurillia, and a gift from the Rockfreed Trading Company under Border Guard."

"Why?"

The merchant blinked.

Why else, I was told to send it, so I sent it.

Nearly killed me getting here.

He answered with a sour expression.

"General Enkrid sent someone our way."

Enkrid had passed letters to those traveling between the Western lands and the continent, and Crang and Krais had handled the request themselves.

He had said to send some food, so they did. After weighing all the relevant factors, naturally.

The Tribal Chief understood the situation, and cried again.

He felt like his tears had been coming far too easily lately, but there was good reason for them. The situation warranted it.

Summer was passing, and they were in no condition to move as nomads, so a hungry winter was waiting. People might starve to death.

The sheep would strip every blade of grass bare if left in one place, so they had to keep moving, and in the meantime the cattle needed feed too.

If he could not manage it all, he would have known even then that he was making next year harder, yet he would have had no choice but to slaughter the sheep, the cattle, the Velopters.

Now that worry was gone.

"His Majesty also sends word that he wishes to open formal relations between nations through this, and asks that you accept."

"We accept."

The Tribal Chief nodded through his tears. The merchant wondered why a grown man was crying like this.

It was still in the future, but the Tribal Chief would be buried at Sacred Ground, and his headstone would be carved with the words: Chief of Tears.

That was a story for the very distant future.

But for now, the Tribal Chief wept again today.

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