WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES

Chapter 546: This Should Be Fun

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What the King of Azpen had just said also meant he was accepting Crang's proposal.

The finer details would be left to the people who handled such things, and no one could say where the relationship would stand years from now, but for the moment, the start was good.

And though no one had seen it coming, Crang had been aiming for exactly this from the beginning.

The Empire, the South, the Holy City-States, all of them lining up to back Azpen?

'Then why not just put Azpen in my corner instead?'

It was far quicker than pulling those three factions apart one by one.

Of course, it could have gone the other way.

If the King of Azpen had turned out to be the greatest fool in the world, there would have been nothing to do about it.

'No chance of that.'

One only had to look at how Azpen had carried itself up to now.

The efforts it had made to hold its own course despite pressure from every direction were plain to see, at least through Crang's eyes.

And the king's conduct tonight had shown the kind of man he was.

The King of Azpen offered his thanks, and Enkrid gave a small nod before opening his mouth.

"Does he not strike you as a swindler who runs his mouth before he thinks?"

He said it with a glance toward Crang, and it was a joke. The people here, especially those from Naurillia's side, Andrew included, all knew that Enkrid liked to joke.

Not that anyone had expected it at a moment like this.

"Did he not call me a king and a dear friend?"

The King of Azpen looked briefly caught off guard, but composed himself quickly and asked in return.

"I feel as though I've been deceived as well."

"Why would you think that?"

"He speaks of what he will do without any plan behind it. He simply says he will do it. What kind of reckless thing is that to say?"

At those words from Enkrid, Crang, Jaxon, Sinar, and Andrew all stared at him.

"You are the last person in the world who should be saying that."

Crang cut in, unable to hold back.

And who could blame him.

There was a man born with paltry talent who had declared he would become a knight.

No one needed to ask how that would turn out.

He had shown his answer through action.

Every hour of every day, he had swung the sword in his hand without once setting it down.

Outside of eating and sleeping, he had lived like a man possessed.

And this was the person talking about plans?

"Even so, it'll be fun."

Instead of answering Crang, Enkrid said it while looking at the King of Azpen.

Fun.

For Argius, King of Azpen, that felt like a word from another world entirely.

But hearing it now, his heart began to thud.

It'll be fun, the man said.

Yes. It would be.

He had been born carrying royal blood and given the name of one chosen by fate.

Yet had he truly lived like someone chosen?

He had dreamed, but fulfilling that dream had felt like an obligation. There was no room to enjoy it. He had thought of it as simply something he was required to do.

But the ambition the King of Naurillia was describing now made his heart ring out and raised the hair on his arms.

It felt like going back to the first time he had fallen into the fever of young love.

Talking with this man called Enkrid had done that to him.

A drive he had never felt before came surging up without warning.

"When I return, I suppose I will proudly announce that I turned down their offer of vassalage and secured a portion of Greenfield. This will not damage your reputation, I trust?"

Argius looked at Crang as he said it.

Crang had been looking at Enkrid with an expression of disbelief. He returned to his usual face quickly and answered with a smile.

"Do I look easy to you? It will not."

The two kings reached out at the same moment and clasped hands.

"If I happen to die, all of this will mean nothing."

The King of Azpen said it.

"Don't go dying. Eat well and live long. If it looks like you're about to take a blade, try asking someone to save you."

Crang fired back.

While the two kings traded what might have been blessings or mild curses depending on how one took them, Enkrid called out to Frog, who had been standing there in silence.

The middle-aged woman and the man on Azpen's side had their heads together, whispering. They had been swept up in the mood and pressed flat by Crang's presence, and had not managed to say a single thing they came to say.

"Was the name Abnaier?"

Enkrid asked.

"What of him?"

"Does he die for the loss?"

Before coming here, Krais had said something about that.

"That is not your concern."

Frog spoke with proper courtesy. The person before her deserved respect.

Honestly, among the people in Azpen who still had their wits about them, not one would speak carelessly to the knight who had stood against an army.

Frog in particular remembered how Enkrid had simply let her go, and she had spoken of him to the king directly more than once.

Some of the stories about Naurillia's hero that had spread through Azpen, she had personally put into circulation herself.

It was a bit amusing, but some of Naurillia's own nobles who had only heard word from a distance still believed the account of him stopping an army was exaggerated, which meant Enkrid's name stood higher in Azpen than in his own country.

They say you understand the worth of something better when you've faced it as an enemy.

And that same truth applied to how Enkrid saw Abnaier.

"Can I ask for something in exchange for winning?"

Enkrid said it while looking at Crang. Crang gave a nod. He was speaking with the king's blessing, that was what it meant.

Everyone turned to look at Enkrid again.

Some of those eyes were wondering what nonsense he was about to say next.

"Speak."

The King of Azpen answered.

"I understand that a man named Abnaier was the chief instigator of this war. At a moment when two nations are reaching a mutual accord, one cannot simply leave such a lawless figure be, so I ask that he be transferred to Border Guard at once. There are charges that must be answered for."

Crang listened and thought the phrasing sounded stiff and unfamiliar. When he considered why, it became clear the man had memorized those words.

Behind Argius, the middle-aged woman and the temple priest both frowned.

Abnaier was in prison, held responsible for the defeat, and would almost certainly not escape execution.

He was also someone they did not want kept alive. He was always at the king's side, working his mind on the king's behalf.

They had failed to kill him before because of Barnas, and this time they had fully intended to cut him loose.

He was the one who kept speaking of ways for the kingdom to stand on its own feet.

Enkrid's words had a stiff delivery, yes, but coming right after everything just discussed, they pointed in the opposite direction, and the intent was plain.

You want him kept alive? Send him over and I'll keep him that way.

That was what he had said.

Not a single person in the room failed to understand it.

"This is outrageous!"

The priest moved to cut in, but Argius raised a hand and stopped him.

"Let it be done. That man was deeply involved with the faction that pushed hard for war."

That was wrong. Abnaier had not been a hawk. He was a moderate.

But what did that matter now.

This was Krais's doing.

"Just on the chance that Azpen doesn't ambush anyone and behaves well, at that point you should ask for custody of the enemy's strategist. Why? You already know why. It's obvious he'll be put to death if left there. If Your Majesty is going to set aside the Empire, the divinity faction, and the South and take Azpen under your wing, bringing that man along would be wise. If internal turmoil over who bears responsibility keeps stirring, he will certainly die. And if you try to save and protect him, it only makes the King of Azpen's position harder, so it's better if we take him."

They say the wise recognize the wise. Krais was not exactly wise, but he had understood clearly that the opposing commander was no ordinary person.

He had also anticipated the man's situation, and calculated that if he was wrong, the King of Azpen would simply decline on his own.

More than anything, there were two advantages to bringing Abnaier over.

Enkrid had enough sense to see them.

First, with him gone, Azpen would lack its most capable overall commander, making it harder to start another war.

Second, if Abnaier came to Border Guard and settled in well, the ill feeling built up between the two kingdoms might soften with time.

All they really had to do was bring him to Border Guard and give him food, drink, and a place to sleep.

'Strange man.'

Enkrid could only find it remarkable that Krais had seen several moves ahead while sitting right there among them.

Krais himself, after watching Enkrid stand against the army, had literally gone wide-eyed and asked, "Can, does, is that something a knight can actually do?"

From where Krais stood, Enkrid was a far stranger person.

"Then."

The meeting was over. The two of them went back the way they had come. Moonlight still lay across the ground, and the stars put on a fine show of themselves.

It was as though the moon and stars had come out to dance at some grand ball held in the sky.

When Enkrid briefly turned his gaze to the window, he caught a meteor streaking past.

"Sinar Kirhaise, is your obligation still standing?"

Inside the carriage on the way back, Crang opened with the start of a subject Sinar would have preferred he leave alone.

Enkrid looked at the two of them blankly. Sinar answered with the same expressionless face as always.

"I have never forgotten what I am here to do."

Enkrid did not know it, but Sinar had been a great support to Crang long before he became king, and there was a promise between them.

Crang had not asked because he wanted to look away from words he himself had spoken.

He had asked because watching Sinar close at hand made him wonder whether she truly had to go through with it.

"I see."

"Yes. I do."

Enkrid watched for a moment, then spoke.

"What is it? This thing you have to do."

"Nothing a fiancé needs to know. A woman ought to have at least one secret if she wants to stay mysterious."

On the matter of mystery, wasn't Esther first among those at Border Guard, with Sinar a close second?

An otherworldly beauty, exceptional even by elf standards, always moving through the world with that blank face, her air of mystery had spread all over the city.

"It's an obligation of elves."

Crang answered for her. It was not much of an answer, but if she did not want to talk about it, there was no point pressing.

Enkrid let it pass the way he always did, without giving it much thought.

The black carriage rolled on and returned to Border Guard, and only then did Andrew let out a breath.

"Phew. Made it."

Andrew was the head of the Gardner Family and one of the real powers among the current royalist faction, but rank and title meant nothing when you were in the service of someone unpredictable.

And there was one more unpredictable person right here.

"You look stiff. Want to spar?"

It was not even dawn yet. The very time when everyone was rushing back to rest, and he was asking to spar.

"Are you well?"

Andrew said it, and Enkrid answered in a serious tone.

"If I sleep and rest when everyone else does, when do I swing the sword?"

"I swing it after I wake up and rest."

Andrew was a training fanatic by his own family's standards, but wrong was wrong.

Enkrid did not push the point. He had only said it because Andrew looked stiff and could use a good sweat. He never forced someone who was unwilling.

So the following early morning, Crang called up troops from the city of Zaltenbuk, one of the fertile territories belonging to the Duke beneath the capital, and departed.

Border Guard's escort force stepped up to cover the road until Zaltenbuk's escort arrived, sparing Andrew the trouble of handling it himself.

"See you at the royal palace, then."

At Crang's parting words, Enkrid gave a nod.

About a month, once Border Guard's repairs were finished, it would be time to head for the palace.

The honors from this campaign were due to be recognized.

After Crang left, the work fell to Krais.

"We can't have border incidents turning into fights, so we should at least put up something that passes for a wall."

Krais said it and immediately got construction underway. A wall went up between Border Guard and Azpen. The height of it barely came to an adult man's waist.

"And this is supposed to be a wall?"

A commander pulled from Azpen for border duty said it, looking out across the scene. Just ahead, close enough to reach with an outstretched foot if one tried, stood a Naurillia commander. That commander shrugged and answered.

"So I am told."

Everyone knew what was really happening while pretending otherwise. There is a saying about covering the sky with your palm, and this was exactly that.

If another country said anything, they would say the border had been drawn and each side was living on its own land and farming. But what would happen once irrigation reached the farmland and a Pioneer Village sprang up right next door?

There would be young men and women catching each other's eye despite their families' obvious objections, and during hard times, hands would reach across to help.

All of that would take time, of course, but this meeting had bought time for both Naurillia and Azpen.

While the continent burned with war, the Empire, the South, and the divinity faction had all been working their schemes, and Azpen, which was supposed to have become a puppet, had suddenly taken Naurillia's hand and acted like old friends.

Naturally, some would take a dim view of the situation, but for the moment, it was difficult to make an issue of it.

A few days later, a transport wagon carrying Abnaier crossed the border.

It was a prisoner's cart with bars, and he rode behind them, but inside there were soft blankets and food.

He had not been treated harshly.

His situation at Border Guard was not much different.

Well. It changed a little.

He had been moved from a cell full of filth and stench into a perfectly ordinary room.

Should he feel relieved to have survived, offering his life in the wake of the war's end?

'What kind of person is behind this.'

Abnaier was less relieved than quietly impressed by what the King of Naurillia had done, and beyond that, simply curious about the face of whoever had arranged his extraction.

From the way events had unfolded alone, he could tell how formidable a strategist had brought him here.

Two days after arriving at Border Guard, he heard two blunt soldiers outside his door greet someone.

"You're here, sir?"

"He's inside."

The latch on the door, the kind that locked from outside, clicked open. After that, the guard and the visitor exchanged a few more words.

"Why is this locked?"

"He is an enemy general. We were told to confine him."

"Leave it. If someone could escape from here on their own, a single latch wouldn't stop them anyway."

A young voice. The hinges, not well oiled, scraped with a grinding sound as the door swung open.

Abnaier, settled into a sofa soft enough to make standing up again feel like a burden, only raised his head.

The owner of that voice came into view.

A young man with large eyes, around the age Abnaier's youngest sibling would have been if he had one, stepped into the room that was both prison and quarters.

"Getting along alright?"

That was his first meeting with the person who had outmaneuvered him time and again.

He was not alone. Behind him was a woman with dark skin and a very striking face.

"She's my escort. I get a little nervous thinking about what you might do if you could beat me in a fight, so."

Big Eyes rambled on, and even then Abnaier had no idea the young man was Border Guard's strategist.

When he found that out later, Abnaier could not keep his composure, and his eyes gave him away.

"You were that strategist?"

"Ah, it's nothing impressive. I just kept fussing over things because I was worried, and it ended up that way."

The exchange was brief, but Krais's manner was consistently warm throughout.

After introducing himself, Krais said he had only come to see his face, and before leaving, he put his hand on the door handle, looked back, and asked.

"Are you planning to run?"

"Nowhere to go."

Abnaier knew it was a sudden question designed to read his state of mind.

So yes, the man was no pushover.

The two looked at each other and laughed for no real reason. Abnaier decided a small measure of trust, or at least goodwill, had formed between them.

He genuinely had nowhere to go. Return home and he was a dead man. Where would he even run?

Once outside, Krais increased the watch on the room.

"He said he wouldn't run."

Nurat asked about it.

"Yeah, he said that, but you never know."

Krais had been born with a paranoid streak, and since he had soldiers to spare, he saw no particular reason to simply take the man at his word.

When Abnaier saw the next morning that more guards had been posted around him, his thoughts grew complicated.

It was as though Krais had ended their conversation the previous day and then immediately declared: you're not someone I can trust.

But nothing could be done about it. Krais was simply that kind of person.

How does one simply trust someone who had been among the heads of an enemy nation?

No matter how the situation had shaped itself, Krais was uneasy, and keeping Abnaier locked up and watched was what settled his nerves.

He could have gone as far as shackling Abnaier's ankles to ease the anxiety, but even Krais did not go that far.

Crang had said what he said, and the king's standing was worth keeping in mind.

He could not treat the man like a true prisoner.

He had been brought over to help repair relations between the two countries, but Krais watched him with absolute thoroughness, and Abnaier simply endured it.

What else could he do. It was not as if he had any options either.

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