A Knight who Eternally Regresses - Chapter 738

WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Abstract

A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES

Chapter 738: That When It Hurts Too Much, You Can't Even Make a Sound

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"We need to leave the village right now."

They called it a meeting, but it amounted to a crowd gathered around a large wooden round table in the center of the village, all talking over each other.

The village was small enough that Brunhild could hear everything. Enkrid could too, naturally.

Some of those not attending the meeting watched him with wary, distant eyes.

Past a certain threshold, raw strength inspires fear rather than reassurance. Especially among people living in hiding from the laws of the continent.

Enkrid understood that, so he kept his mouth shut. They had not invited him in, and he had no intention of forcing his way in.

That was not to say he had nothing to say. It was just that speaking up right now would only burden them.

Still. Wrong is wrong.

So he kept it inside.

The man insisting they leave immediately was a plain-looking fellow with brown hair. Compared to Harkvent, he was timid. He had been repeating things like they were all going to die, over and over.

One of the children had passed his words along more than once, the same child who kept asking whether they were all going to die, whether it was over, whether dying meant getting to see her mother again.

Spreading fear will not fix anything.

Even if fleeing was the right call, this was not the way to do it. After a long meeting, you made it seem as though a safe path had been found, then you left.

If mass panic set in, everyone would die. Scatter in all directions out of terror and there was no saving anyone. Even Enkrid could not reach people beyond arm's length.

"Quiet. We knew the Magic Beasts were acting strangely well before this. That is why we have been preparing."

An old man stepped in to silence him.

The timid man started to say something, but Harkvent fixed him with a hard stare and he shut his mouth. His beard still trembled without stop. He probably wanted to blurt out anything just to channel the anxiety crawling through him.

"We have been through crises before and come through all of them. This time will be no different."

That came from another man, and it was also wrong.

Speaking from a lack of urgency was bad enough, but what troubled Enkrid more was something else.

Vague hope.

That was no good. Kneeling and praying to the gods would not drop food from the sky. Without moving forward, nothing could be gained.

"Quiet."

Harkvent shut that mouth too. The meeting that followed offered no answers.

Five people were seated. Of them, Harkvent carried the most weight, which was obvious at a glance.

"I wanted to thank you."

Enkrid had been watching for a while when the man named Jeri approached and said it.

"It was nothing."

"You saved my life and I have nothing to give you in return."

If this were a military unit, Harkvent would have been the commanding officer and leader, and Jeri would have been something like a recon captain, with only a handful under him, but still.

"At least take this."

Jeri held out a blue stone. It was barely the size of a palm, and its texture felt harder than ordinary rock. Valerian Steel gave off a bluish sheen, but this thing was outright blue, and when Enkrid rested it in his hand, the skin of his palm hummed faintly.

Cold? Not quite. Closer to crisp and refreshing.

"You can sometimes find these wandering the caves deep inside the Mountain Range. Nice to have on you when the heat gets bad."

It was a rare thing.

"Thank you."

Enkrid accepted it without hesitation.

Brunhild, who had been standing beside him well before Jeri arrived, poked Enkrid in the thigh.

"This looks like it'll drag on. Can we go out back and practice spear swings?"

The other children immediately crowded in, pushing their heads forward.

"Can I join too?"

"Will you teach me how to throw a knife?"

The village had nearly as many children as adults. Small as it was, they apparently had an excellent midwife.

Frontier cities were like that, and Hidden Villages were no different. Both encouraged having children. Numbers translated directly into labor and fighting strength.

That was why a midwife and healer was respected as much as any leader.

"Harven, we cannot forget what matters most."

The old man who had spoken earlier was this village's midwife and healer, the same one who had silenced the nervous man before.

Influenced by Brunhild, a few of the children had been drifting around Enkrid without end.

"Sure."

He had no particular reason to push forward, but no reason to tiptoe around every little thing either.

Enkrid spent his time among the children.

"Why can't I do it like she does?"

A child watching Brunhild swing her spear asked the question. Enkrid was trimming sturdy branches into cudgels as he answered.

"Keep at it and you will."

There was nothing more to say.

Between this child and Brunhild lay a gap that could not be closed. Would the child lose interest once the cruelty of talent became clear?

He could not say, and he had nothing useful to offer, so he left it alone.

The children still swung their sticks steadily. A few adults watched with worried eyes.

He had been teaching the children bits and pieces and was partway through carving a fifth cudgel when Harkvent walked over.

"I have a favor to ask."

"I'll do it."

"...You haven't even heard it yet."

"You want to borrow my strength to protect the village."

"That's right."

"So I said I'll do it."

A simple answer, but Harkvent's expression was complicated.

What could he offer this outsider? There was no such thing as goodwill without a price, so what did this man want?

All sorts of thoughts were probably running through his head.

Jeri was probably sent to give me that stone.

The stone tucked in his clothes was no ordinary thing. It had been a test, to see whether a rare object would stir greed in him.

Enkrid had dealt with enough scheming people that Harkvent's methods were fully transparent.

I suppose I have the family head and Heskal to thank for that.

Compared to those two, Harkvent was close to a country bumpkin who had just arrived in the capital.

"Very well."

Enkrid turned away with a brief farewell, the same as any other day.

Even if he said a hundred times that he needed nothing from them and only wanted to help, would they believe him? If Harkvent were the kind of man who could believe that, he would not be struggling this visibly.

Living long enough, you encountered people who had never once been shown genuine goodwill. Someone who had spent years leading a Hidden Village had likely lived exactly that life, a life where hostility replaced kindness and plunder replaced help. Could a word or two change a way of thinking built through long years of hard experience?

Who knows. Maybe Crang could manage it.

Unprompted, he thought of the friend who had ended up on a throne. Crang could move people's hearts with just a few words.

Enkrid answered, washed, and slept. The village was well situated in that sense, a small lake sat just a short walk into the forest, so as long as Magic Beasts were not a problem, they would never want for fresh water.

From what Brunhild had told him, splashing around in that lake in midsummer was the best thing. They played until their lips turned blue, she said.

When Enkrid fell asleep, it was the Black River, not the lake, that greeted him.

"I expect you know what I'm going to say."

Today's Boatman was unusual. He sat in a tall chair he had found from somewhere, one leg crossed over the other.

Light flowing from a purple lamp lit his face.

A face like a parched wasteland, with pitch-black pupils, as if insisting that this moment was a nightmare.

"You'll say that if I leave, they all die."

"Yes. That is so."

"And to shake my resolve here, you might add that this is the wall I've been preparing for. Though it might land better to say there will be no more regressions."

"You could sit in my place and make a fine Boatman."

"Is that a compliment?"

"The highest I can give."

The corners of the Boatman's mouth lifted, and something pitch-dark peeked through.

This one was different from the previous Boatman. Clearly different.

With an instinct sharpened into certainty, Enkrid caught a glimpse of one of the Boatman's secrets.

The Boatman is not just one.

Anyone paying attention should have figured that out by now.

Even with that glimpse, there were surely many more curtains still drawn, still wearing the name of secrets. But that was none of his business.

Digging at things beyond his reach would only give him a headache.

"It sounded like you just thought something impudent."

"I didn't."

"You will face nightmares. Your body is one, and you cannot protect everyone."

The Boatman's words layered over each other as he spoke.

Had he picked that up from watching Dmuel?

Enkrid let the words in one ear and out the other. Knowing how to listen properly meant knowing how to let things go properly.

The Boatman knew Enkrid well enough by now. That bastard isn't listening. Even so, he said what he had to say.

"A month at most. You cannot protect them all."

It sounded almost like a curse, but Enkrid thought this particular Boatman was well-disposed toward him.

A month at most.

He had even been told how long he had to prepare.

"Face an endless, shifting nightmare. They shall become your nightmare."

A hint that the Magic Beasts would keep changing their tactics and keep coming.

Well, even if the Boatman had not meant it that way, it was enough that the one listening understood.

"Go. Go and struggle in the waking world."

"Shouldn't you be telling me to repeat today here, if that is what you want?"

Enkrid noticed the Boatman had left something out.

Should he not have said to spend the day fully here and then repeat it? That was the Boatman's purpose, after all.

"...I was planning to say that next time we met."

Enkrid scratched his head, an apologetic gesture.

"Get out of my sight."

Was it strange to sense embarrassment from the Boatman? It probably was. It was a strange thing. Enkrid opened his eyes in the waking world.

A month.

More than enough time.

Enkrid rose before dawn and stepped outside.

"See, I told you he'd come out at dawn."

Brunhild's voice was clear and bright as a mountain bird. The other children's voices were not bad either. She had not come alone.

"She was right."

"I'm sleepy."

"So why do you wake up so early?"

"My father doesn't sleep either."

"My mother stayed up all night working on hides."

There were six of them, not counting the ones already fifteen or sixteen and starting to think for themselves. All of them had come wanting to learn something, just like Brunhild.

"Did you bring the staffs from yesterday?"

"I brought mine."

"I slept holding mine because you said not to forget it."

Enkrid looked them over. One of the girls among them was gifted enough that calling her a genius would have been an understatement.

There were those who would see a child's talent and feel envy, but Enkrid could only feel admiration. And something in the way the child's mind worked gave him fresh realizations of his own, which made it interesting too.

That was that, though, and the Magic Beasts were still the Magic Beasts.

They were targeting the village, and he only had one body.

If he ranged out to eliminate threats, the Magic Beasts would strike the village. If he stayed and only defended this place, he would never leave.

"Live there. If you choose not to repeat today, that is the only kind of day you will be given."

Was that what the Boatman had been unable to say?

It seemed plausible enough.

Or maybe not. Either way.

Whatever the case, the nightmare the Boatman spoke of was a set of variations on a theme. If the original piece kept you bound in today through death, now it would bind your feet to this place even without forcing you to repeat the day.

"Stay and protect them to the end. Do not leave."

The Boatman's phantom cackled as he said it. Enkrid dismissed the vision and set a hand on Brunhild's shoulder.

"You said you wanted to get better at fighting."

"What?"

"Try teaching those children."

"Huh?"

A genius advances three or four steps for every one step others take, by sheer force of talent. Because of that, they rarely think to look back.

Enkrid knew that moving correctly mattered just as much as moving quickly. It was something he had come to understand through experience, and teaching Brunhild had developed it into something more concrete.

He had spent a few days looking around the village, fighting off Magic Beasts, and quietly arranging his swordsmanship in his head, how to handle five different sword styles, and how to drill the fundamentals.

Teaching someone forced you to understand what you had learned at a deeper level.

"Really?"

She sounded put out.

The children themselves had little to say about it.

There was not much to do for fun in a village this small. There was a reason they played in the lake in summer until the cold made their bodies shake. These children would find picking up cudgels and learning something just as good as any other play.

That was probably why they had made their way out here before dawn. Guessing as much was not difficult.

Children could do that. Adults were another matter.

Enkrid left the children where they were and walked away.

Where he was headed, there was a man from the south with a strong sense of responsibility and dark circles deep under his eyes from several nights of poor sleep.

"Gather every person in this village who can fight."

He said it plainly, and Harkvent asked, "What is this about?"

Andrew Gardner came to mind. More precisely, the moment Enkrid had knocked him down to make him listen.

Should he stand here and give a long speech to win them over? He could, but it would be a waste of time.

Enkrid changed his tone and his bearing. He roughly imitated Rem.

"Shut up and do as you're told."

If they were afraid, he would use that fear.

Harkvent reached for his spear. No matter how frightening this outsider was, his spirit would not break so easily,

Thwack.

A light low kick clipped his thigh. The movement was barely visible, so Harkvent could neither dodge nor brace for it. A sudden spike of pain twisted his serious face completely out of shape.

"Listen when I talk."

What was needed right now was fear. There was no time to persuade anyone one by one, and trying to would only make things more dangerous.

Harkvent learned that when the pain is too great, no sound comes out at all.

He sank to the ground and let out a low groan.

It really, truly hurt.

"Hey, does this look like I'm being polite and asking nicely? Well? Does it?"

He did not need to copy the speech pattern, at least.

Harkvent could not resist. The outsider had shown him personally that a blade more dangerous than any Magic Beast was standing right beside him.

If the pack of Magic Beasts had dyed this place in fear,

Would it not be enough to give them something so overwhelming they forgot all about that?

That was Enkrid's intention.

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