WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Ryuu

Editor: Abstract

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

A KNIGHT WHO ETERNALLY REGRESSES

Chapter 96: Those with and Without Something to See

Torres exploited every opening with frightening precision if one let their guard down even for a moment.

He could read the opponent’s breathing and condition as naturally as he breathed. When asked how he could do that, he replied,

“You just need to fight as many different people as possible. That’s the quickest way to become an elite soldier in a short time, and it’s the philosophy of the Frontier Slaughterers.”

It didn’t seem to be much of a philosophy, so the last part was probably half-joking.

Torres chuckled.

Watching the flowing river, Enkrid thought.

‘It’s different.’

Just as Rem and Ragna’s teachings were different, so were the duels and words exchanged with Torres. The Elf Company Commander was also different.

‘Variety.’

There was something to learn from everyone. There wasn’t a single thing to be missed.

Torres’ hidden knife technique might look like a simple sleight of hand, but depending on how it was used, it could be a fatal move.

Enkrid had even learned some tricks for deceiving the opponent’s perception for it. This was Torres’ style of practical combat.

“My father was a gambler, and thanks to him, he tried to make me the next great gambler.”

You could call it the origin of his hidden knife technique. To Enkrid, it sounded like a combination of exceptional talent and relentless effort.

“Want me to teach you?”

The ferryman was almost there.

“You called it a secret technique, didn’t you?”

“I’ll teach you if you want.”

Why was he doing this?

Enkrid didn’t know. But rather than trying to understand the other’s motives, he was used to taking the opportunity presented to him.

He nodded.

“Alright, watch closely. You hide it like this inside the sleeve.”

Then came the explanation of how to hide the knife, how to flip the palm to draw it, and so on.

“You’re really clumsy.”

Enkrid’s fingers were so dull that even Torres grumbled, but since he knew how to focus on one point when learning, it was better than before.

Certainly, it was several times better than before. If it were the old Enkrid, before he had learned to concentrate on a single point…

‘Would I have given up already?’

Would he have seen Torres shake his head in frustration long ago? Spending time on something with no visible potential would have been foolish.

“Have a custom knife made at the smithy later. Until then, you should practice with something like thin stones.”

Torres, saying so, even picked up a thin stone for Enkrid to practice with.

“You’re really slow, huh.”

Enkrid paid no mind to his scolding, as it was a well-known fact. Besides, he had no luxury to care about such remarks.

“But you’re persistent.”

Ignoring Torres’ complaints, Enkrid tried several times even though it didn’t go well. The process was about adding focus to hiding the thin stone.

The key was to hang the stone in the sleeve, flip the back of the hand from facing the sky to the ground, and launch it.

Of course, it wasn’t easy.

“It’d be nice to have a practice scabbard.”

Torres mumbled to himself.

Apparently, there was a special scabbard for fixing a knife inside the sleeve during practice. He said it was good to use before getting familiar with the technique.

“It’s based on a skill gamblers call ‘farming.’”

As Enkrid trained, Torres observed and commented.

“Farming.”

It was a technique that could only be used under specific conditions.

The blade had to be shorter than a fully outstretched hand, and it required precise timing to hide it, so one needed time to practice just handling it.

‘This is hard.’

It was several times harder than swinging a sword. Still, it wasn’t as difficult as getting used to a shield. After spending some time this way, sweating again during sparring and then resting, the ferryman arrived.

The ferryman had come along the route that patrolling soldiers used to periodically clear out monsters. Thanks to that, the ferryman was able to come alone.

“They say by next year, they’re going to build a cabin here. If a ferryman or fisherman settles here, it could turn into a small fishing village.”

The ferryman was talkative. Enkrid, who had been giving polite responses, listened to the creaking sound of the oar and stared at the river.

The Pen-Hanil River.

It was the lifeblood of not just the nearby villages but also, on a larger scale, nearby nations like Naurillia.

In the distance, one could see low-growing grass along the riverbank, a few trees, and further out, waterfalls cascading between cliffs and a few cabins along the river.

This side was a gravel road, but if one looked further, there was a meadow that would turn green in spring.

“Damn, it’s dangerous. Even though the current here is slow and the water is shallow.”

The ferryman muttered to himself as he changed direction.

A jagged, dark gray rock jutted out in the middle of the river. If the boat hit it, it would easily break apart. The boat drifted peacefully down the river, soon reaching the opposite shore.

“I’ll be off now.”

The ferryman departed.

“Shall we wash up? We’ve got some time before the meeting.”

Torres looked up at the sun and suggested.

“Sounds good.”

Enkrid, who was covered in sweat that had dried and started to smell, agreed. No need to start the mission feeling unpleasant.

Eating, sleeping, and washing whenever possible— those were basic soldier skills.

“Then.”

Torres quickly stripped down and dipped into the river. The rippling water was a color between blue and green, looking clear and clean.

Soon, Enkrid began removing his armor piece by piece and followed suit, stepping into the river.

As soon as his feet touched the water, a chilling sensation crept up his body. Torres, noticing Enkrid’s reaction, widened his eyes.

“What the… What the hell, man.”

What was there to be surprised about?

Torres’ mouth hung open, then his gaze shifted between Enkrid’s legs, and he clammed up. Enkrid glanced down between his own legs.

There was indeed something surprising.

“This bastard, he’s got everything.”

Torres’ voice sounded like he was about to cry.

“You should’ve just had the face.”

“Say stuff like that, and you’ll make me want to thank my nameless parents.”

“Are you an orphan?”

“Yeah.”

Here, not knowing one’s parents wasn’t unusual. Most soldiers probably didn’t.

“Sometimes not having parents is better than having ones who slap your hand while trying to teach you something.”

“Maybe.”

Enkrid had never longed for parental affection. He only wanted to swing his sword.

During a time when he had absolutely nothing, the only things that helped him endure those days were the dream of becoming a knight and the sword in his hand.

Could the world have been kind to a child orphaned like him?

No way.

This wasn’t a kind world. Surviving was a miracle in itself. If it weren’t for the simple, good-natured people of the village where Enkrid had stayed, he wouldn’t have lived.

‘A knight.’

That was the one thing he lived for. Instead of longing for affection, he dreamed of knighthood.

He dreamed of forgetting hunger. He swung sticks like swords to forget the misery. That’s why Enkrid never longed for affection.

Instead, he longed for the sword.

It was the dream born of that longing. The beginning of Enkrid’s knightly dream.

The faces of a few villagers, whom he could almost call his hometown, flashed through his mind.

Though they hadn’t doted on him like parents, at the very least, they didn't let him die. But even those people would be swept away by war.

‘War consumes everything.’

It would be good if he could help end that war. To do that, what must he do?

‘Wield the sword.’

Just wield it over and over again, and that’s all there is to it. That was all Enkrid knew.

That was his parent, his sibling, his companion.

His dream, his goal, his everything.

Bubbling.

Bubbles rose to the surface of the water. Enkrid, lost in thought underwater, was tapped on the shoulder by Torres.

“Puaah.”

As he surfaced, exhaling,

“They’re here.”

Torres said, glancing to the side.

Following his gaze, Enkrid turned to see a soldier standing with one leg cocked and two others behind them, each holding a club shorter than a shortsword.

At a glance, their equipment made them look more like bandits than soldiers. The blunt weapons they carried, and the worn-out leather armor, gave them away.

Their armor was light. Forgoing thick gambesons meant they prioritized mobility. Instinctively, Enkrid assessed their combat ability.

Thanks to what he’d learned from the Isolation Technique of Audin.

‘Both arms are well-balanced.’

Though standing on one leg, both hands were loosely lowered. Ready to throw something at any moment.

‘They might throw something if things go south.’

Their proficiency with thrown weapons seemed decent. Proving this, a throwing axe dangled from their waist.

Judging by their training, they likely had other tricks. The two soldiers behind had daggers at their waists instead of axes, holding clubs in hand. Otherwise, nothing stood out.

‘Orange hair.’

Finally, Enkrid’s gaze rested on the face of the leading soldier. Freckled and small-built, with orange hair.

A female soldier.

“Pretty relaxed, aren’t you? Enjoying a nice bath? Feels good?”

The orange-haired soldier greeted them with a casual tone. Watching this, Enkrid realized something: his instincts still had room for improvement.

‘I didn’t sense them coming.’

Perhaps that was natural. He hadn’t expected anyone to come this far. Moreover, he had been lost in thought while submerged.

Had he let his guard down too much?

No. He had taken minimal precautions. The shore was right there, and his armor was at hand.

The fact that they had approached without making a sound showed their skill in concealing their presence.

The orange-haired soldier, standing on higher ground, spoke again.

“You’re not coming out?”

Torres stepped out first.

“Are you going to keep watching?”

He said as he approached.

“I need something to watch.”

Harsh.

As he thought that, Enkrid also stepped out, water streaming down his body. In truth, it wasn’t just the male anatomy that had surprised Torres.

No.

The Isolation Technique had reshaped Enkrid’s body entirely.

The lessons from Audin, repeated and carved into him, had manifested in his body. His shoulder muscles, sharply defined, rippled as his arm muscles bulged.

Following the solid chest muscles, his chiseled abs flexed, and the quadriceps of his thighs stood out, greeting the soldiers' eyes.

Lastly, between them, dangled something else that caught their attention.

“...Seems like there is something worth seeing.”

Torres, watching this, grumbled in complaint.

“Cough, get dressed.”

The orange-haired soldier cleared her throat awkwardly. Torres and Enkrid left their sweat-soaked clothes behind, taking out fresh ones from their packs and putting them on.

Their previous outfits had dried, revealing salt stains. It would be good to wash them when there was time. With that thought, Enkrid stood up, fully dressed and armed again.

“Recon Platoon Leader, Finn.”

The orange-haired soldier introduced herself, extending her fist. Torres went first.

“Frontline Slaughterers Platoon Leader, Torres.”

With a thud, the fists met, and the fist soon reached out to Enkrid.

“Independent Platoon Leader, Enkrid.”

The Elf Company Commander had created an unusual unit for Enkrid.

Since he couldn’t actually lead a platoon, they simply made him an independent platoon under the Company’s command.

“Independent platoon? What’s that? Well, nice to meet you anyway.”

Finn passed over Enkrid’s fist and patted his abs.

“Nice abs.”

“I think my abs used to be just as good.”

Torres muttered beside him, clearly loud enough to be heard, suggesting it wasn’t meant to be a private thought.

“Shall we talk while we walk? If we head out now, we can reach the camp before sunset.”

The two soldiers behind Finn appeared to be her subordinates. Everyone saluted as they moved out.

As the five of them walked, Finn finally began revealing the details of the mission.

“You didn’t come here without knowing where this place is, right?”

“I heard it’s the land of monsters and beasts.”

Enkrid answered.

He recalled the words of Enri, replaying them in his head with his excellent memory.

Above the Pen-Hanil River, there were many dens of monsters and beasts. Only skilled pathfinders or hunters dared to enter.

“And we’re right in front of Cross Guard.”

Finn’s voice turned stern.

“The original mission was to receive intel from the cat. That’s what it’s always been.”

The term ‘cat’ was a code for a spy.

It was a common term on this continent. Both nations had planted spies in each other’s cities. It wasn’t just Naurillia, but also the Azpen.

Enkrid had even fought and killed some of these spies himself, so their existence wasn’t special.

“But the cat hasn’t sent word for four days past the agreed date.”

As Finn walked, she continued. So, what would they do now? Torres and Enkrid listened closely as Finn continued.

“Orders came from above. We’re to go in and retrieve them. The last message from our cat said they had acquired critical information.”

A chill ran down Enkrid’s spine. Goosebumps spread across his skin, and his body screamed with warning.

This was...

‘Dangerous.’

It wasn’t just dangerous. He was going to die. He’d die, probably more than once. His instincts, honed through countless days like today, told him so.

If he followed Finn’s words, they would be infiltrating Cross Guard.

“Hah, what a fucking mission, right? I know it’s shit. However, there is a way. There is.”

Finn finally cracked a bitter smile. It was a self-deprecating grin. During that earlier mage’s trap, Enkrid had already realized. Could they escape today by running away?

The answer was ‘no.’

Even if they stayed up all night, if they simply fell asleep, or if they ran somewhere else all night.

The result would be the same.

The only thing it would do is add more fatigue. What he had realized was that it was inevitable. If it couldn’t be avoided, it had to be enjoyed.

Enkrid laughed too. It was a different kind of laughter than Finn’s. It was a smile of joy, of eager anticipation. Finn, noticing, raised an eyebrow.

“They sent a crazy bastard from the main unit, huh?”

Torres half-heartedly nodded in agreement. Even he thought Enkrid wasn’t normal. He was feeling nervous himself, but this guy…

Of course, Enkrid was also tense.

But more than that, his mindset was simply different— he was preparing to face a new tomorrow.

‘Surpass it.’

Surpassing the wall was synonymous with growth, so he smiled in anticipation.

Of course, he’d struggle. He would fight desperately to avoid being trapped in today. It wasn’t that it wasn’t terrifying. It was just that he looked further ahead.

Enkrid’s shoulders tensed as he walked.

He was a mix of tension and excitement.

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