WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Ryuu

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES

Chapter 78: Colored by Passion

Torres was exceptionally skilled. When Enkrid sparred with him, he lost seven out of ten times.

“You’ve improved,” Torres said, standing and catching his breath. Enkrid wondered how things would turn out if they fought with real swords. He wasn’t sure. Enkrid wasn’t the type to be confident about fighting.

No matter how skilled you were with a sword, a seven-year-old child could stab you in the heart with a dagger and you’d die. Skill aside, the outcome of a fight for survival was uncertain.

“Is that so?” Enkrid replied, lying down before springing up.

“My turn next.”

“Come on in.”

Despite the season where one’s breath showed in the air, the back of the inn was full of sweat and heat. Enkrid wasn’t sure how it had come to this, but everyone fought only with him.

It was a continuous series of sparring matches. To Enkrid, it was valuable time.

The Frontier Slaughterers, including Torres, were all skilled at unorthodox attacks. That didn’t mean they lacked fundamentals.

A soldier broke a twig with a snap and held it in both hands.

“My specialty is daggers, so be careful not to get hurt.”

He held two short branches, each only half the length of his forearm.

“We both should be careful.”

“That’s right. Let’s be careful together.”

The soldier laughed softly, his smile showing warmth. It was pure competitiveness without a trace of malice.

Snap!

The twigs clashed, and Enkrid fought again. After exchanging several moves, he expected the opponent to close in.

Instead, the opponent crossed the two short branches he held instead of daggers and hooked Enkrid’s sword, twisting it aside. After throwing Enkrid off balance, he tossed a branch that struck Enkrid’s torso.

“In real combat, that would’ve been your eye.”

And then he spoke. This guy was formidable, nearly as good as Torres. Enkrid could see why the Frontier Slaughterers received special treatment.

He nodded silently. It was another loss. It was time for a break. Naturally, everyone rested.

Jaxon was leaning against the door connecting the lot to the inn. When Enkrid came in, Jaxon spoke.

“You can’t focus only on closing the distance just because the opponent wields a dagger. Even if your fundamentals are solid, will you fight using only them? Is bringing your sword down on an opponent crawling on the ground the only solution? Why not kick them instead?”

Win or lose, Jaxon always spoke. It was time for instruction. Some might consider it nagging, but not Enkrid.

He listened intently.

“I didn’t expect him to use those tactics with a dagger.”

“His usual weapon is probably a sword breaker.”

A sword breaker was a weapon with a saw-like edge on the back of the blade. It specialized in breaking opponents’ weapons.

“It was good that you didn’t give up the distance, but you should have considered what to do next.”

Jaxon went over every detail from the sparring session. Enkrid always did his best. If he had given up distance, he would have been defeated. That’s why he didn’t give it up.

Thanks to that, he saw how to deal with a sword breaker.

He did well. Jaxon pointed that out.

“Think about how to handle it.”

Practicing basic swordsmanship, training the body, and learning techniques were all good. But handling things that happened during sparring was something to ponder on your own.

Those were Jaxon’s words.

Enkrid agreed.

It took hundreds of repetitions to ingrain something in your body. To make anything your own, you had to contemplate.

Reflecting and pondering.

That was the weapon Enkrid possessed, and he used it.

“After the break, it’s my turn.”

Another Slaughterer. He was skilled with both sword and footwork. He often mixed kicks into his movements. He was challenging to face, but there was much to learn.

All six Frontier Slaughterers, including Torres, took turns sparring. Though they used similar techniques, they also showed unique skills.

They had individuality and excellent fundamentals. There was much to learn. Previously, such sparring wouldn’t have been very helpful.

That was unavoidable.

Someone who hadn’t climbed the mountain couldn’t experience the view from the top but it was different now.

‘Add Focus Point to it.’

The technique he learned from Ragna was shining. The boldness granted by the Heart of the Beast was a given.

“Keep your Blade Sense sharp at all times.”

Jaxon advised. It was a reminder to maintain keen senses.

Enkrid nodded.

As he sweated, Leona approached him.

“You must really like it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sword fighting.”

“Does it seem that way?”

“Yes.”

Leona often struck up conversations. Though the topics were trivial. To Enkrid, it seemed like a spider watching its prey, observing intently.

A greedy spider that would never let its prey go.

‘Even if a spider doesn’t quite suit her looks.’

She was a beauty anyone would look back at.

“Is it because of the elf company commander? You seem indifferent to women’s appearances.”

“It’s not exactly that.”

“Then am I not your type?”

What did this question mean? A playful glint appeared on her face.

“I doubt many men can ignore a woman as beautiful as Lady Leona, don’t you think?”

Though he phrased it indirectly, Enkrid was saying he wasn’t interested. After the trivial conversation, Leona laughed mildly and sat beside the company commander.

“Be careful. He has a way with women.”

Then the company commander blurted nonsense. Leona laughed at her words.

Did she understand the elf’s joke?

The joke, which troubled Enkrid, kept making Leona laugh.

“You’re the most witty elf I’ve ever met.”

“I hear that a lot.”

Where from?

While preparing for the next spar, Enkrid nearly twisted his ankle. With his senses sharp, he overheard their conversation. It was loud enough to be heard without trying.

“We even have kids together.”

“Huh?”

“Some people in the unit believe that.”

Wouldn’t saying that deepen misunderstandings? Though worried, Leona laughed it off. It was hard to tell if she believed it or not.

“Aren’t you going? Are you tired?”

Enkrid looked at those waiting for him and put his worries aside. Rumors would spread regardless. Leona’s sudden confession probably made the rumors worse.

“Alluring Squad Leader.”

That was what those guarding outside frequently called him.

“The Alluring Squad Leader who broke the curse.”

“The Alluring Squad Leader who can’t leave women alone.”

He was getting tired of hearing it.

“Is it true you’re an Alluring Squad Leader?”

Even Jaxon mentioned it.

“Huh?”

“All the Slaughterers are watching only you.”

Well, somehow, it turned out that way. They spent an entire day sparring like mad. The awkward tension in the air had vanished. They all bonded through swords and sweat.

As a result, Enkrid was bruised all over.

“Does it hurt?”

When the one who hit him asked, Enkrid shook his head.

“No.”

The recent strike was incredible. He was replaying it over and over. Countering a downward slash by feinting a block from below and cutting the forearm.

The instant judgment, timing, and boldness. The necessary elements came to mind naturally. It was the embodiment of an experience he’d never had before.

“Ah.”

Enkrid was thrilled again. He was intoxicated by what was happening.

Occasionally, the company commander would step in and do something resembling wrestling and Leona would occasionally start a conversation.

“I’m envious. I should have learned that.”

She said this while watching the company commander grab Enkrid’s arm mid-air and strain his joint. It was a technique Enkrid was busy resisting.

“Use wrestling, soldier.”

The company commander started offering advice. Perhaps seeing Jaxon’s words were heeded, or maybe out of pure goodwill.

Enkrid didn’t know the reason.

It didn’t matter, so he kept listening intently.

“You’re off balance a lot. Does anyone watch you when you train?”

It wasn’t just the company commander. The Frontier Slaughterers were the same. He even heard the same thing Audin had said from the Slaughterers.

The imbalance between left and right.

It was natural for a right-handed person.

“The first way to reach the limits of humanity is to train all your muscles. Your strength is good.”

Torres also offered advice.

“Did you think about just closing the distance because it’s a dagger? Try acting as if you’ll draw them into closer combat. What would the opponent think? Plant a specter in their mind.”

Make the opponent’s mind complicated.

“You have a bad habit. Deception is good, but don’t lose the basics. Where will you set your pivot?”

They pointed out mistakes made during sparring. Enkrid didn’t know how it happened but he was completely absorbed and took everything in. He listened again and again.

It was different from sparring among squad members.

Did it look like he was fun?

“Would you spar with me?”

A swordsman from Polid’s side stepped forward. He said this while placing his rapier on the ground.

Enkrid reflexively nodded.

It was what he wanted.

“Interesting fellow. Sparring during a mission.”

“I prefer using my time wisely.”

He was on escort duty, caught up in a major trading company’s succession issue that involved bloodshed. Even in such a situation, Enkrid grabbed and swung his sword.

He had to.

Others’ time was different from Enkrid’s.

Those with talent and those without it couldn’t be equal. Thus, those who lacked talent always had insufficient time.

The swordsman with the rapier found him fascinating.

“You don’t improve in real-time.”

He was a soldier with a charm that drew people in. The changing relationship between the Frontier Slaughterers and Enkrid was especially intriguing.

The initial wariness between strangers had melted away, replaced by camaraderie. It was fascinating to witness this transformation firsthand.

“A rare talent.”

His swordsmanship wasn’t where his talent lay. His current skill level was his limit. The rapier-wielding swordsman saw that.

Enkrid’s talent lay elsewhere.

Having encountered many talented individuals, he was quick to recognize it. If he heard that Enkrid’s dream was to become a knight, he would immediately shake his head.

Nevertheless.

Whatever his talent was.

“I want to teach him.”

It was his relentless passion. He never let any words go to waste. His talent in swordsmanship was mediocre, but he had a heavy passion for it.

It was a talent to inspire those around him with sheer enthusiasm. His instructors had felt something similar. Even knowing it was hopeless, they kept trying to impart what they had to Enkrid. They taught and taught again.

It was as if ‘giving up’ didn’t exist in his vocabulary— a fervor and spirit.

“Would you spar with me?”

That was what made him take a step and open his mouth.

“Huh?”

His companion beside him looked at him in surprise. He was surprised himself. Wasn’t he an enemy?

He thought it might look foolish to step forward here. And if the opponent refused, it would be even more embarrassing.

The problem was, he hadn’t considered any of that before speaking.

Enkrid nodded.

“Now?”

His arms were bruised, and his body drenched in sweat. He exuded heat that dispelled the cold wind blowing through the lot. Steam rose from his shoulders. He must have been tired.

Winning or losing wasn’t the issue. Right now, he was purely enjoying the spar.

“Good.”

The swordsman said almost unconsciously.

Jaxon doubted the swordsman’s intentions. The company commander nodded, intrigued.

All the Frontier Slaughterers thought of cutting him down if things went awry. They wouldn’t let anything happen to Enkrid.

And Enkrid.

‘Swift Sword.’

He was busy imagining the opponent’s sword in his mind.

How should he react?

How should he fight to have the best chance?

Could he win?

“Don’t overthink it!”

Rem said he’d never seen a bastard who survived thinking about winning or losing during a fight. Instead of doubting victory,

“Have confidence. That’s first.”

Sharpen the blade of certainty. The Heart of the Beast embraced boldness. Enkrid raised the twig, pointing it at the sky.

He focused, gripping it like a sword hilt with both hands.

For a moment, everything changed. His focus ignited, transforming the surroundings into the heart of the battlefield.

He saw the armor covering his opponent’s body. Hesaw the thin sword in his hand. If he couldn’t dodge, he would die. Engulfed in that thought, Enkrid was completely immersed.

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