WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES

Chapter 514: The Difference

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"If you can decide the outcome of a war before it even starts, that's the best you can hope for."

Those were words Abnaier had once said. The Beastfolk general had agreed.

Four knights plus one Frog, he figured, was as good as locking in victory before the first blow was thrown.

And if not?

Then you win by fighting.

Abnaier wouldn't step forward personally, but he would relay his thoughts from behind. He could play the part of a commander with both strength and wit, shatter Border Guard, and secure Greenfield. Simple enough.

While he was at it, he planned to kill the one Abnaier had failed to finish off, along with whatever else was lurking nearby.

Four knights.

How do you stop that?

That was why Azpen had committed to war. Whether by luck or by effort, they had produced two more knights.

And Abnaier, who owed his survival to the lupine Beastfolk general, had reasoned through it the same way.

In the end, they couldn't win through strategy and cleverness alone, so it had come down to crushing the enemy with raw force.

He didn't think they would lose. They had the strength for it.

Still, never doing anything carelessly was Abnaier's oldest habit, almost a compulsion.

He had a strategy for exactly that reason, and the supreme commander was a generous man who actually listened.

"We shout loud enough that the whole continent hears us. A direct, blazing frontal attack."

"That'll burn through our troops."

Between what they had borrowed from here and there for this campaign, it wasn't nothing. War supplies didn't spring up from the ground, and they had lost Greenfield in the last defeat to boot. The treasury wasn't exactly flush. The Beastfolk general did have an eye for war.

In war, supply lines and marching conditions mattered more than the fighting itself. And setting those up cost Krona. A great deal of it.

With the country's coffers already ground down, could they really afford heavy troop losses on top of that?

"Yes, which is why we only shout."

"Only shout?"

"The shouting draws their eyes. Meanwhile, a small elite force slips through."

Abnaier pressed a finger to the tactical map and drew a line. A path no ordinary person could cross, but what about knights?

The route cut straight across the Pen-Hanil Mountain Range.

And their opponents had been kind enough to clear the Demon Creatures out of it already.

"Once they're inside?"

"They strike at the head, separate from Greenfield's own garrison. City occupation."

Not a war. One battle to end the whole fight. Abnaier had laid out exactly how to use every piece of strength they had.

The lupine Beastfolk didn't concern himself with honor. He had lectured his human knight student plenty, but he believed what mattered was whether your own heart was clear.

A troubled heart was the problem. Walk in with your head up, and it was fine.

The lupine Beastfolk saw nothing wrong with crossing the Pen-Hanil Mountain Range.

Taking a hard road to strike at the head wasn't underhanded. It was wise.

March right up to the gates, announce you were there to occupy the place, head held high. What was dishonorable about that?

The enemy being caught flat-footed was their own failure.

Self-justification complete.

"Good."

The Beastfolk general nodded.

"As for a pretext, something came up recently that would work nicely. Two junior knights dead."

Casualties had come from the Duke of Azpen's knightly order.

They had sent a unit into the mountain range to scout the entry route. Knights who had no business falling to Demon Creatures or Magic Beasts, so they were trusted and sent ahead, and some swordsman cut down both of them.

Whoever it was hadn't even bothered to hide the evidence.

A few rangers were sent in pursuit. An entire ranger unit was all they lost.

A terrifying swordsman. In the end, the swordsman had returned to Naurillia on the far side of Greenfield, which made for a perfect pretext.

"We'll press them on whether they sent assassins first."

Abnaier had a complete script in his head from beginning to end.

Even if Naurillia sent their knightly order to help, they wouldn't be able to hold.

Greenfield would be secured. After that, Abnaier would reclaim his position.

With the returned lupine Beastfolk general at the front, they would go to war again. Same method, strike at Naurillia's capital?

The Red Cloak Knights of Naurillia would move to meet them.

That meant heavy losses. They didn't have overwhelming superiority, so it shouldn't go that far.

But given enough time.

Knights didn't just appear because you drilled soldiers like recruits, but the lupine Beastfolk general had already taught four of them.

Azpen had once pursued a policy of integrating other races, and the greatest product of that policy was the lupine Beastfolk general.

He had been Azpen's sharpest blade, loyal to them utterly, and now he had proven himself as a teacher as well.

A blade that had fought to defend the borders, grown bored, withdrawn, and returned. Barnaas Hurrier.

A Beastfolk who had become a member of House Hurrier.

With that blade at his side, anything was possible.

Four knights. Who on earth could stand against a force like that?

Abnaier wasn't letting his guard down, but that was what he believed.

No knightly order with equal numbers could concentrate strength this way.

By the time Naurillia grasped the situation, Greenfield would already be gone.

The walls and city you built will be put to good use.

And the recent clearing of the Pen-Hanil Mountain Range, that would be put to good use too, every bit of it.

Not revenge. Still, the thought of landing a solid hit wasn't entirely absent.

* * *

Krais's daily routine was simple.

Mornings were for physical training, then meals, light duties, and reading.

When there was nothing pressing, tracking down a book and reading it was one of Krais's pleasures.

History, philosophy, novels, Krais read without preference.

From the outside, he seemed unhurried. That was accurate. His body was idle. His mind was the busy part.

What Krais mainly did was think. Speculate. Anticipate. That sort of thing.

One particular thread of thought had his attention.

What would I do if I were Azpen?

That was what he had been thinking lately. The thing weighing on him most.

He had already reported it to Enkrid, but from here on it was somewhat in the realm of imagination.

Azpen picks a fight again. Why?

Because they want Greenfield back.

The answer was simple.

Wind swept through and scattered Krais's hair. He sat without even thinking to push it aside, and Nurat brought him a cup of tea.

The office window was open and left that way.

A good day for the breeze.

Krais took a sip. Hot liquid slid down his throat and warmed his stomach.

Feeling a bit full.

Had the meal been too much? Or was swallowing Greenfield the overreach?

In truth, they hadn't stopped at swallowing it.

If Azpen ever got wind of what came after, they would be clutching the backs of their necks and fuming.

Greenfield, the plain sitting between Naurillia and Azpen, had been both the cause of wars and the boundary between them, though that boundary had always been a bit blurry.

Years of fighting over that plain had made it so.

Since Greenfield had never been claimed outright and was treated as the border instead, the buffer zone between the two nations was unreasonably wide.

Krais had exploited that, playing dumb and nudging the border westward bit by bit.

This is Azpen territory? Since when? It was unclaimed land. Nobody owned it.

We took Greenfield, so this is ours too. Don't like it? What are you going to do about it?

That was the short version.

No wonder Azpen was furious, and no wonder Border Guard was well-fed.

They were going to fight each other sooner or later regardless.

Whether Naurillia started it or Azpen did, war was inevitable.

Krais wasn't perfect, though. A few assumptions had missed the mark.

He hadn't expected Azpen to move first, but looking at how things were developing, them going first was already a foregone conclusion.

With that established, a few assumptions naturally surfaced.

If it were me.

I wouldn't start a losing fight.

So Azpen wouldn't start one either. From that conclusion, three assumptions followed.

First: they have usable force they've kept hidden.

Second: it's knights.

Third: they've taken steps to keep Naurillia's knightly order from mobilizing.

Assumptions loaded with certainty, even without evidence.

He did have a private grievance, couldn't the king just send the knightly order out and sweep Azpen aside? But he knew that made no sense.

Each knight of the Red Cloak Knights had their own post.

Pull the knight holding back the southern powers, and Azpen would be the least of the problems. The Cursed Grounds lodged along the kingdom's borders would become a problem too.

Well, part of Border Guard's reason for existing was precisely to hold Azpen at bay.

And in Border Guard was Enkrid, whose reputation as Demon Slayer had spread far and wide.

A rising name meant having to prove yourself every single time.

If Border Guard had no talent, nothing at all, other forces would naturally have stepped in.

Because if the line against Azpen broke, losing Greenfield would be the smaller problem.

If Azpen crushed Border Guard and won, what came next?

If it were me, I'd push deeper.

So they couldn't be left alone. And here was Enkrid, Demon Slayer, close friend of the king.

For all these reasons, if Azpen came, Border Guard had to hold.

Enkrid had already been briefed on everything, naturally.

The captain's reaction after hearing every last bit of it, imaginings included, had stuck with Krais.

"War?"

One word, asking back.

"Yes."

Krais said.

"If they come, we fight."

Looking at Enkrid in that moment, Krais felt something he couldn't quite name.

A knight.

Krais had also seen Rem charge at Enkrid wanting a match. His own eyes couldn't make out anything of what happened, but he'd heard the word, knight.

He had heard it clearly.

Krais's ordinary days were mostly spent anticipating, predicting, imagining one grim scenario after another, but pure imagination crept in too.

Among those thoughts, naturally, were ones about the captain.

What if the captain becomes a knight?

That kind of imagining.

Whether it was strength or status, people changed when they got their hands on power.

So would the captain change?

No chance.

He had always been the same, from the days when he stepped into Krais's path with skill that was barely a match.

He always looked toward where he was going.

It was the same when he said they would fight. Those blue eyes held a calm light. What was he looking at?

He had strength now, and he had heard the word war. Wouldn't he want to run loose?

The concept of omnipotence might have been foreign to Krais, but he knew people.

When someone gets power, they want to use it.

But Enkrid was Enkrid.

The same as always. Nothing had changed. What he was looking at, Krais couldn't see.

He said he was protecting something, but honestly, Krais had no idea why.

It wasn't that he didn't understand the part about saving people. He just couldn't understand the why behind it.

Does it pay in Krona?

Or what else does he get out of it?

Was he trying to use people's admiration for something?

Not at all. He just followed his heart, apparently, and that Krais simply couldn't grasp. Though in truth, he didn't need to.

Krais had decided to follow the man who had once blocked his path, and he was doing exactly that.

Wind blew through and scattered his hair again. Krais swept it back from his eyes.

It was partly thanks to Enkrid's follow-up words that Krais was now shut in the office, sorting through his thoughts.

"Try to gauge the timing and put together a plan. Where we fight and how."

It meant taking everything on himself, strategy and all. Short words, but the meaning was clear.

"...Me?"

"Who else would?"

Enkrid said it while glancing to the side.

In that direction were people whose talent for fighting overflowed. The mad squad.

Rem, Jaxon, Ragna, Audin.

Add Teresa, Ruagarne, Ropord, and Fell on top of that?

A force that could match any knightly order, probably better than most.

But war couldn't be handed to them.

Enkrid knew that well.

Tactical thinking and war were entirely different things.

Laying out the full scope of a war wasn't something Enkrid felt confident about.

"I feel like I just said something a little irritating, so never mind. I'll handle this one myself. Big Eyes, stay out of it."

Rem said it while lifting his axe onto his shoulder. Smiling one moment and scowling the next, pure Rem.

Ask him about logistics and he'd say just take it from the enemy.

"War? Go out there and cut them down, that's all there is to it. I'm not leaving this to some savage. I'll handle it myself."

Ragna stepped up too. The kind who, if he led troops out right now, would be lucky not to get lost.

And even if he didn't get lost, the moment he spotted an enemy banner he'd charge straight at it.

It wouldn't be blood spilled, it would be blood poured wholesale onto the ground.

Both sides would take devastating losses, and there would be one inconclusive battle after another, with neither winner nor loser.

Still, if Ragna was at the front, would they win?

Probably. That reckless swordsman would cut through everything standing in his path.

More than anything, the enemy wouldn't be able to predict his movements.

This time too he had gone out for a stroll and come back after fighting and killing two of Azpen's junior knights and an entire ranger unit.

Azpen had used that as the trigger for war.

Well, they would have found a pretext regardless, so there was no point laying blame on Ragna.

"Handle it."

Enkrid looked back at Krais with a steady gaze.

"Yes."

Krais nodded.

There was nothing to add, really. No complaints either.

Without Enkrid present, if responsibility fell on Krais alone, he wouldn't be able to pull out even half of what he was capable of.

But that situation wouldn't arise.

If it did, I'd bolt immediately.

Enkrid made the calls. That was what cut out the anxiety. Because of it, Krais could put every part of himself to use.

A creeping sense of dread lifted its tail and began drawing out every possible scenario, one after another.

It used to torment him. Now he had a blade to pull from it.

Four knights.

Ragna, Rem, Sinar, Enkrid.

Jaxon was knight-level too, but Krais didn't know that much.

What if all four are tied down?

While Abnaier was confident that four knights were their weapon and no one could stop them, Krais was already assuming cases where his own side's strength wouldn't be enough to hold either.

A talent he was born with. Imagining darkness, and from that darkness drawing a picture of what might come.

That was the difference between Krais and Abnaier.

And where before his mind would have frozen at the grim imagining, it now moved forward looking for answers.

Then what's the way to keep them from being tied down?

Experience shapes people. Just as Enkrid kept moving forward, Krais was not what he used to be.

His field of view had widened. His thinking had gone deeper. He knew more.

Countless things rose and fell in his mind, assembling themselves into a single picture.

He was laying out the full board of war.

It wouldn't happen tomorrow, but it was coming soon.

The means and methods to meet it ran loose through Krais's head.

Nurat watched Krais's eyes and thought something.

He was always going on about the captain's eyes gleaming, yet his own eyes were doing exactly that right now.

Are you enjoying this?

Nurat asked it silently. No answer was needed. Krais's eyes, holding something like a handful of glittering stars, answered for him.

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