WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS
Translator: Hydrogen B
Editor: Abstract
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES
Chapter 694: React!
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The man wearing six swords watched Enkrid smile through the entire fight and nodded inwardly.
Remarkable disposition.
Grinning while coming at someone like that. It was the kind of joy in the face of the family head's pressure that you rarely saw even from Odinkar or the other Zaun children.
Rare, unusual, eye-catching, but not unheard of within Zaun. So he had thought, well, that's about all it amounts to.
"One more?"
The words Enkrid spat out the moment he lost were something else entirely. The feeling packed into them stabbed straight at his heart.
The owner of the six swords did not know exactly who this man was, yet he found himself wanting the family head to grant the request.
Look at that desperation behind those blue eyes in the dark hair.
Family head, wasn't this what you said every single day?
And had he not said it just moments ago? That the urgency you feel now always comes too late, and only the effort you have already put in can answer the urgency of the present.
And yet this black-haired man was pouring out that desperate feeling even now, even after being told he was excellent.
Swing the sword more. It's not over yet. Stay with me a little longer.
He was crying it out through his very emotions.
Acknowledging defeat gracefully is excellent, and finding joy in swordplay is excellent.
But neither is as excellent as having that urgency.
It was one of the Zaun family's teachings. The family head's creed, too.
Ragna had been sent out into the world because a genius who loses urgency cannot be called a genius anymore. And the man who came back with him, the sight he had just shown, struck a chord. Deeply. Warmly.
"...An uncommon disposition."
Zaun placed great weight on disposition. The words came from the blond middle-aged man beside him.
The man with six swords did not even turn his head.
"Uncommon? It is a precious disposition. Develop your eye. Heskal."
A lifetime of holding a sword had given him an instinct, and that instinct saw something special in this man. Perhaps it was because his own specialty was the concept of wave, but that was what he felt now.
The blond man beside him seemed less moved. Surprise showed in his eyes, but his manner was comparatively flat.
"I'll always say it-I don't like being lectured on discernment by you."
Heskal shot back, but the man with six swords did not reply.
Did any of this matter right now? Not at all.
Beyond these two, there were other eyes watching. One of them was Ann, and she too had felt her chest tighten at Enkrid's desperation, her gaze stolen away, finding herself wanting the man who had killed her teacher to rise again.
Naturally her eyes drifted to whoever would answer Enkrid's question.
She thought she glimpsed a thin wisp of dark smoke dissolving at the corner of the family head's lips. It was so brief it could almost pass for a trick of the eye, gone the next instant.
She had been too startled to notice until now, but there was a smell as well, the kind only an alchemist who had spent years handling drugs and medicinal herbs would catch.
Ann pulled herself free from the wake of the feeling Enkrid had sent through her. The alchemist's instinct combined with what she was looking for and brought her back to her senses.
Ah.
Ann grasped something and was about to speak, but the family head's wife was faster.
"I'll take over from here."
She stepped forward without waiting for the family head's permission, and no one objected.
Anyone who knew anything knew that Alexandra's skill was on par with the family head's.
Even Enkrid, still down on one knee in front of them, his eyes blazing, felt it through her bearing and momentum.
Some here knew it and some did not, but Schmidt, the Imperial Talent Recruiter, had learned his swordsmanship from Alexandra.
Schmidt's sword emphasized speed. That made sense. Even before she bore the Zaun name, her blade had been fast.
When the one called the Knight of the Gale built his reputation carving up the continent on his own two legs, Alexandra had a similar nickname.
Blitzkling, in the continental tongue, Lightning Blade.
Her Inscribed Weapons were two swords with blades a little longer than a Shortsword. Even under the peculiarly dark sky, cold light seemed to linger around her blades alone.
The family head's sword is heavy.
His wife's is fast.
It was probably only natural that Ragna, who had watched his father's and mother's swords from childhood, wielded something both heavy and fast.
She finished speaking and seemed to give Enkrid a moment to catch his breath, and then, before he knew it, one of Alexandra's twin swords became a point aimed at the space between his eyes.
Screeeeee ,
A sound like drawn lightning chased after the sword that had become a point. Enkrid concentrated everything he had and twisted his head to the side.
Flik!
The blade grazed his cheek and a drop of blood scattered into the air. Before that single droplet reached the ground, at least fifteen exchanges had already passed between them.
Tatatatatatang!
Enkrid was already back on his feet, sword angled out in front of him, standing in a posture that seemed to hide his body behind the blade.
Alexandra stepped back, putting four and a half paces between them, and stood with a sword in each hand.
Grumble grumble grumble.
Dark clouds gathered far overhead and thunder rolled through the sky. Rain looked ready to pour.
Drip.
The cut on his cheek must have gone fairly deep, because blood ran down his face and collected at the tip of his chin.
"I'll finish this before the rain comes."
Alexandra said.
"Is that so?"
Enkrid let out a quick breath and answered. How did I block that last cut? He asked himself and reached for an answer. None came.
Luck, maybe?
Alexandra opened her mouth again, as though giving him time to steady his breathing.
"Unusual weather. Storms do roll in around here, but this feels bigger than anything I've seen before. Whatever god is playing games, it isn't the God of War. The God of War wouldn't spare attention for anything but cutting."
"Is that so?"
The corner of Alexandra's mouth curved up.
"Look at this one. Not listening to a word I say?"
No one in the world is perfect. Ragna knew his mother's flaw. She was generally mild-mannered, but the moment someone crossed a certain line, the formality dropped from her speech. It was a warning sign.
* * *
What is this.
Enkrid focused on the sensation that something inside him was almost within reach, almost graspable.
Like spotting a mirage in the desert and feeling, if you just concentrated, you might actually catch it. That was why the urgency had leaked out of him without his realizing.
The longing he usually kept buried deep had surfaced. Beyond exhilaration, desire was boiling up, a want to seize this thing right now.
He wanted to swing his sword wildly. He did not know how. He did not know the path. He only wanted to swing.
And into that he folded one more wish.
As long as possible.
Swing and swing again. While holding onto this feeling.
To do that, what did he need to do?
Hold on.
His Will would not run short. For now, he put the Three-Iron forward and hid his body behind it.
He advanced his right foot and drew an imaginary line upward from his big toe, then covered that line with his sword. That wedged the blade between him and his opponent. That way, all she would see was the sword.
What next?
The brief clash a moment ago had told him there were points where her swordsmanship resembled the One-Killer's.
It moved between instinct and calculation, but the logic running underneath was sound. What if he disrupted that logic slightly?
He had tried it directly against the demon One-Killer, and Grida had done it to him in order to break through his calculations.
No pointless movements. The goal is disruption.
The Wave-Blocking Sword was still active. Tactical thinking told him what needed to be done.
Enkrid let his left hand drop and drifted it toward Penna. Not drawing it. Not even gripping it.
But that motion alone would introduce a flaw into her calculations ,
Flik!
In that instant, Enkrid saw two crescents falling toward him. Two swords, literally out of nowhere, dropping in the shape of crescent moons.
He shoved the angled Three-Iron upward, pushed his left foot back, and clenched every muscle in his body.
For a moment, everything slowed. Without that, there was no blocking this cut.
The moons were falling. A sword mishandled becomes a threat to its own wielder.
If he was pushed back by the crescent strike, he might end up cutting himself with his own blade.
Tang! Kaaaaang!
The two moons hammered the Three-Iron. Enkrid judged that redirecting with the sword was too late, so he applied Valaf Martial Arts and let his body absorb and channel the force loaded into the strike.
Fwump.
Both his soles scraped across the ground.
Alexandra, who had executed the cut that looked like two crescent moons, stepped back and put distance between them again.
"Are you playing games? I'm faster than you, and you try a stunt like that? What kind of idiot does something like that?"
Your daughter does.
Enkrid swallowed the provocation. This was not the time. Alexandra was clearly holding back.
This was a body that had just taken a beating from the family head. By any measure, it was hard to call this his best condition.
Was she accounting for that and going easy?
In truth, she was not. Ragna recognized that his mother's bad habit had surfaced.
A cornered rat bites the cat. But what if the one doing the cornering was a tiger?
Alexandra Zaun, in sparring only, enjoyed backing her opponent into a corner.
The corner of her mouth curled. She was having the best time.
"Hey. You keep that up, you'll die."
Enkrid felt those words in his body. The killing intent she was showing right now was no joke.
Pressure taking on a physical shape, that was happening on her side too.
What the family head had shown was a greatsword. What she was showing him now was an arrowhead, bowstring drawn taut, right in front of his face.
Let go of the fingers holding the string, and the arrow a hand's span away would fly.
Dizziness sharpened his mind and set his thoughts ablaze. His heart surged and Will rushed through his entire body. His head ran through calculation after calculation, thoughts accelerating.
To keep throwing off-tempo moves that disrupt her calculations, I have to expose my openings by the same degree.
Against someone with hands that fast, that is suicide.
That was a stupid move.
Acknowledged.
Enkrid finished his brief review. It took an instant. Alexandra's feet hit the ground again. Thud!
The moment she pushed off the dirt, she closed the distance so fast her body blurred.
React.
Enkrid gave the command to his own body.
The initial needle-point thrust, then the high-speed chain attack, and now the cut a moment ago.
He had not thought and then blocked. His body had moved on its own.
Tang!
Enkrid's Three-Iron knocked aside the sword Alexandra brought down on a diagonal, but she had two swords.
The blade in her other hand let out a small shriek and stabbed above his right thigh.
Precisely at the gap in the joint where his armor did not reach.
Enkrid used the force from knocking away the sword to spin his body half a turn. Thanks to that, Alexandra's extended blade cut across above his thigh rather than piercing it, and he avoided anything serious.
A little blood seeped through the cut in the cloth, but it was only a scratch.
"The sword is swung with the whole body. Idiot! Build up your core muscles, harder."
When was it? Back when he was a mercenary, a guide, a bodyguard, or an ornament on some noblewoman's arm, earning Krona and spending it freely.
There had been an instructor among them who said it while teaching him the basics of the sword.
"You're not swinging with your arms alone. Use your whole body."
So he had trained his body that way. Every single day without exception, until it was madness.
Later, Audin had taught him how to make his muscles thicker, tougher, and more flexible.
So he had done that too. He had pushed his body following Audin's lead.
My body reacts well enough.
On top of that, he had learned that no matter which path you chose, none of them were wrong. Ragna had taught him that. So there was no hesitation.
Instinct and intuition raised their heads.
Alexandra's sword came from beyond the range of conscious recognition and calculation. Because of that, his senses opened the channel first and responded.
Cold air brushed his ear. Every sense stood on end, every hair straining to read her next movement.
Alexandra's body had taken on a faint, steady glow, and something similar gleamed along her sword.
Left hand tucked behind her, right hand swinging the blade down at an angle.
React.
Enkrid told his body again.
Something blurry and formless was in his hand, taking shape.
His senses responded first and his body was already moving before his mind caught up. In that process, Will flowed through him naturally.
A motion he had performed hundreds or thousands of times, yet it felt as if someone had threaded strings through his limbs and moved them for him.
Bang!
A thunderous noise rang out and Enkrid became a puppet with its strings cut, launched backward again. This time, though, he did not roll across the ground. Someone moved behind him and caught his back, stopping him.
Thanks to that, instead of tumbling ungracefully, Enkrid landed tilted and sat on the ground. One knee down, same as before.
He ended up in the same posture as after the spar with the family head, of all things.
"What did you do?"
It was Ragna. Plain surprise showed on his face, a rare sight.
"I don't know."
Enkrid answered.
"Alex, were you trying to kill someone in a spar?"
The man wearing six swords addressed Enkrid's sparring partner.
"Oh, I really almost killed you. Are you all right?"
Alexandra, back to her usual self, asked.
"Ah, but you seem fine. You blocked it pretty well."
She smiled and added that right away.
Enkrid nodded.
"Yes, I blocked it. Fun again."
He meant every word.
Ragna looked at Enkrid and replayed what he had seen a moment ago.
It was hard to simply believe.
He covered the sword in Will.
Brief as it was, that was how it had looked.
Will was a formless power. Ragna had privately defined the next step forward as giving that formless power a tangible, physical shape.
If forced into words: manifestation.
He had even shown it himself when he broke through Enkrid's Wave-Blocking Sword.
To add to that, he had taken the foundation of that technique from his father's sword.
He had used his father's Pressure as the base to grasp the concept of manifestation. That was why it had taken the shape of a greatsword.
Now the plan was to compress that and release Will of a different quality.
The captain just did it.
In that moment, Enkrid, catching his mother's sword, had walked the path Ragna was meant to walk before him.
"Try it again."
"Hm? I don't think I can."
At Ragna's words, Enkrid shook his head and said:
"Today isn't the only day."
Talent is merciless. For some, a single stroke of luck is enough to let them reproduce it easily. For others, the same stroke of luck has to come dozens of times before it sticks.
Even after meeting that mercilessness face to face.
"Still fun."
Someone who could smile like that, now of all times, there were not many in the world. Truly not many.
Ragna held his captain's back for a moment with one hand.
"Since when?"
Ann, who had been standing apart from it all like an outsider, moved close to the family head and asked.
The family head looked at her calmly.
Ann's expression spoke for itself.
"Tell me."
Bold as it was, she spoke to the family head as if giving an order, but for Ann, it was natural.
Whoever the person was, if they were gravely ill and death had been written for them, Ann would do anything to save them. That was the conviction of someone who called herself a healer.
"Let's talk inside."
The family head spoke, and Alexandra waved a hand to clear the onlookers.
"Show's over, everyone. If you saw something good today, go train twice as hard."
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