A Knight who Eternally Regresses - Chapter 113

Chapter 113: Yes, I’m Here

“That’s today’s quota.”

It was the third day since deployment. What started as a minor provocation had escalated into close-quarters combat.

Rem spent the entire three days on the battlefield, returning with the same look on his face every single time. As he shook the blood off the axes in both hands, three bodies lay behind him.

Every time Rem stepped onto the battlefield, he killed exactly three enemies. His powerful axe swings turned them into something resembling firewood.

Split in half, these logs spilled brains and guts instead of sap. When the allied and enemy forces clashed at the front lines, Rem would swiftly cut, smash, and crack skulls before returning.

If watching this didn’t make a commander salivate, then they weren’t fit for the job. Anyone with a keen eye would know that Rem was a valuable asset they wouldn’t want to lose.

Rem wasn’t the only one.

“I’m fine on my own. Why do they keep assigning soldiers to me?”

Ragna, who dragged his feet lazily as he walked, was another such soldier. At first, he didn’t stand out at all.

He fought half-heartedly and returned, barely engaging in the battle. If no one attacked him, he wouldn’t put much effort into fighting.

‘What a waste of talent.’

The Elf Company Commander had been one of the few to recognize Ragna’s abilities. So he had been left to his own devices, until one day, during a transition between battlefields, Ragna had gotten lost.

‘How does someone get lost here?’

Maybe he had taken a detour around the mountains, or perhaps he had crossed the river unnoticed and launched a sneak attack on the enemy’s main camp.

Whatever had happened, the enemy’s main force had retreated and Ragna had survived. Not only that, he returned with the enemy commander’s head in hand, swinging it nonchalantly.

“Oh, I wanted to go left there,” he had said upon his return, a severed head dangling from his fingertips.

“You got lost?”

Ragna had simply nodded.

The Elf Company Commander had asked and received that answer. That was all. From the beginning, she hadn’t intended to force anything on these men.

They had been brought here under specific conditions.

“Fill in for your missing platoon leader.”

To these men, the name Enkrid was synonymous with magic.

“Why are they telling us to fill in when they sent him off?”

“If you slack off, that means Enkrid ordered it. Are you going to bring him trouble?”

It hadn’t taken much convincing. These men, who had scoffed at the idea of deployment, had begun packing their gear without further protest.

“I’ll kill three a day. No more, no less.”

That was Rem.

“Let’s do that.”

That was Ragna.

Jaxon had quietly nodded his agreement.

“At the call of the gods,” even the religious zealot Audin had agreed.

Andrew, Mack, and Enri were of course willing to follow orders, as they always did.

Kraiss had been on leave.

Andrew, with one eye swollen and bruised, had actually seemed happy to head out to the battlefield. Beside him, Mack, sporting a matching bruise on the opposite eye, had looked just as eager.

“Battle! War! Let’s go!”

The two had been practically giddy upon hearing the company commander’s orders.

“Happy? You shouldn’t be,” Rem had muttered with a smirk at the sight of the two.

For a brief moment, the Elf Company Commander had seen a devil in Rem’s grin, but when she blinked, it was gone. And so, these men had been brought into the fold.

Jaxon and Audin were just as skilled as the others.

Jaxon always pretended to put in minimal effort, yet no enemy soldier who crossed his path could leave a scratch on him.

“Why can’t I hit you? Just wait…!”

One enemy soldier had spat those words at Jaxon, who hadn’t bothered to reply. It was as if a passing dog had barked at him.

He always returned from battle without a single injury, and without killing anyone.

Audin had only gone to the battlefield once, and the moment he had arrived, he had snapped an enemy’s arm with his bare hands.

Those who had witnessed the scene, even among their own allies, had felt their skin crawl. Snapping someone’s arm? That wasn’t such a big deal.

But to carefully grasp someone’s wrist and break it with a clean snap, as if breaking a twig—that was something else entirely.

Was that even human strength?

“Get away! Don’t come near me!”

If even their own allies were horrified, what must the enemy have thought?

Audin stood out simply by his presence.

Though smaller than giants, he was still a towering figure among regular soldiers, with shoulders broad enough to seem monstrous.

How could he not stand out?

‘There are less than ten of them, but their combat power…’

The company commander couldn’t help but feel that she had gained tenfold the strength of soldiers similar to himself.

Calling them exceptional didn’t do them justice. With proper use, they could become a force that would terrorize the enemy far beyond their numbers.

‘This must be why…’

This was why, despite all the chaos, accidents, and trouble they caused, these men had survived until now. The Elf Company Commander had taken responsibility for bringing them, and she watched over them.

This was how they fought.

So, what happens if you ask for more than they’re willing to give?

“Retreating already? Where are you running off to first?”

The man who spoke was a platoon leader—newly assigned, unfamiliar with these men.

He didn’t know who they were—the Troublemaker Squad, the notorious Rem, who had assaulted his superiors, or the religious zealot Audin, who had no qualms about separating flesh and bone at the gods’ command.

He didn’t know Jaxon, who could exude killing intent in silence. Nor did he know Ragna, who rarely caused any trouble but was still part of the group.

It was Andrew who had stepped forward to block this clueless platoon leader. At the same time, Rem’s expression had become visibly more irritated.

‘If I leave this alone, there’ll be blood.’

If it ended with just some spilled blood, they’d be lucky. Rem could very well split someone’s head open with his axe.

“We belong to the Independent Platoon. So, our orders come directly from our immediate superior.”

Andrew had spent enough time in the army to know how to handle this properly.

“What? So you’re just going to stand around and watch from the back?”

The newly assigned platoon leader couldn’t accept this.

Some of them barely fought, some retreated at the drop of a hat to laze around in camp? While others risked their lives on the front lines? What kind of nonsense was that?

Independent platoon or not, as their superior, he couldn’t let it slide. Andrew looked at the man and saw a reflection of himself when he had first disrespected Enkrid.

Back then, he had been an ignorant fool.

“Heh.”

Andrew sighed, looking up at the sky before lowering his head again, the expression of a man who had resigned himself.

“My name is Andrew Gardner, firstborn of the Gardner family. This unit is made up of noblemen. So why don’t you just leave?”

His voice was empty, the words coming from a place of quiet surrender. His face didn’t hold the arrogance typical of a noble.

Andrew couldn’t even be bothered to fake it. Mack came over silently, giving Andrew’s back a few supportive pats.

“What the hell? Do you think being a noble means you can do whatever you want?”

The platoon leader, clearly offended, snapped back, his lips quivering as he spoke.

“I guess I’ll be seeing your guts soon,” Rem muttered under his breath.

But before Rem could act, Andrew challenged the platoon leader to a duel. The matter ended with Andrew getting beaten down, sparing the platoon leader from being split open by Rem’s axes.

Andrew had taken the fall to prevent an even bigger disaster.

“You may be a noble, but this is the army,” the Elf Company Commander had reprimanded Andrew.

“I’ll reflect on my actions,” Andrew replied, as the commander patted him on the shoulder—both chastising and reassuring him.

Andrew had become the unsung hero of the Mad Platoon—the reason why these madmen hadn’t yet caused a full-blown disaster.

By regularly sparring with Rem, he had kept his bloodthirst at bay. He also often took on those who didn’t understand and tried to challenge the group.

As a result, morale within the unit was a mess. Much of that was due to the Mad Platoon, but other factors also played a role.

The 1st Infantry Battalion was currently stationed to the northeast of Border Guard with the Pen-Hanil River to the left and a few small hills to the right, just a day’s march away, in a field of gravel.

Here and there, blades of grass poked through the gravel, and along the riverbank, wild grass rose to waist height.

Part of the Knight Order and the main army had gone to the Green Pearl Plains, where they were facing off against the enemy’s main force.

The role of the 1st Infantry Battalion stationed here was to block any enemy forces from breaking through or flanking the main army.

In other words, they were a defensive wall, guarding against enemy maneuvering or reinforcements. Their situation depended on the outcome of the main battle.

If the main army made their move first, reinforcements from the Knight Order could sweep the enemy here. If the enemy made their move first, they might have to face the enemy’s knights without any of their own.

At first, that was the plan, but with both sides hesitating and posturing, this battlefield had unexpectedly become a front-line skirmish and a prelude to the larger battle.

The 1st Infantry Battalion and an Independent Company were evenly matched.

Both armies had stationed their main forces in the Green Pearl Plains, watching over this battlefield, but up until now, the Naurillia forces had been repeatedly pushed back.

Rumors had spread that the enemy had deployed giant soldiers, and some enemy soldiers had even made a name for themselves, daring any who thought themselves better to challenge them in duels.

These provocations were starting to shake the morale of the troops. In such a situation, the battalion needed a wildcard, something that could turn the tide in their favor.

And that wildcard had become clear to the battalion commander’s eyes; the Mad Platoon, the squad that stood out like no other.

“As long as they fight properly, they’ll be enough. Do they have any demands? If I push them too hard, they’ll all end up going rogue.”

The Battalion Commander was a wise man. With one glance, he understood the current state of the Mad Platoon.

Though the Elf Company Commander had managed to bring them here, they were an uncontrollable force. If needed, the commander could suppress them through force, but now wasn’t the time for that.

‘The battle isn’t lost yet.’

The battalion commander was a battle fanatic, but he wasn’t a fool. It was better to negotiate and keep the soldiers’ morale high than to force compliance and crush their spirits.

“They need their platoon leader.”

The Elf Company Commander had replied, and the battalion commander had given his approval.

“Bring him back.”

And that was that.

The company commander saluted and left. That morning, Rem had made a declaration.

“Bring back our platoon leader. How can we fight when we don’t even know if he’s dead or alive? It just doesn’t feel right.”

It had almost sounded like a threat—he wouldn’t even bother killing his daily quota of three men if they didn’t bring Enkrid back.

A swift-footed scout had been sent immediately after Rem’s declaration. Three days later, Enkrid stood before the battalion commander.

The Mad Platoon had been brought to the rear to meet him, and now, after three days, they were finally reunited.

“If you were back, you should have returned to us right away, shouldn’t you? Did you not miss me?”

The Elf Company Commander joked as she greeted Enkrid.

Seeing Enkrid’s scowl made her grin. The sight of that grimace was more satisfying than words could express, especially after days of frustration dealing with Enkrid’s disobedient platoon.

‘What a bunch of knuckleheads.’

The battalion commander’s eyes fell on Enkrid’s right wrist.

“You’re injured?”

“I got into a fight with some thugs in the city.”

“What, was that thug Frog?”

At those words, both Kraiss and Esther shot sharp glances at the commander. Only Enkrid remained unfazed. It was just a joke, after all.

“It’s not a serious injury.”

His wrist wasn’t broken. There was some damage to the bone, but it wasn’t enough to stop him from gripping or swinging his sword. It needed treatment, but it wasn’t life-threatening. The wrist exercises he had practiced with Jaxon’s guidance had paid off.

“Well, in any case, welcome back.”

The battalion commander with the green eyes gave a nod as Enkrid saluted.

“Alright, go on.”

Enkrid immediately made his way to where his platoon was gathered. He was eager to get back to them. They always caused trouble, but when he wasn’t around, their disasters tended to escalate.

‘Should I just quit?’

At first, some clueless platoon leader had tried to pick a fight. But now, even that wasn’t happening anymore. Toying with Andrew had grown boring, too.

‘There’s no reason to stay here anymore.’

If that was the case, he could just leave. Rem had been seriously considering desertion. He wasn’t looking for some glorious, honorable discharge like others might.

He would just disappear one day, without a word. The longer he spent apart from Enkrid, the more the thought grew in his mind.

‘If he doesn’t come back today, I’ll leave.’

And yet, despite his thoughts, Rem continued going through the motions, living day by day. It had become a monotonous cycle, with no meaning.

Even fighting on the battlefield no longer stirred any excitement.

“Die!”

Boring. It was all so boring.

If they were going to kill someone, they should just stab them with their spear. Why waste time shouting?

Because of all that yelling, they were out of breath, and they didn’t even realize their spear tip was shaking. Rem swung his axe in a vertical chop.

Clang!

With that one blow, the enemy’s hand was shredded, causing them to drop their spear. Dropping your weapon in the middle of a battle? Pathetic.

This guy wasn’t even worth a fraction of what their platoon leader was. No, comparing them at all was an insult.

Thud.

The axe split the enemy’s skull.

Even this felt monotonous.

Rem killed three enemies and returned. Each day passed in the same dull routine, a repetition of boredom and meaninglessness. More and more, Rem found himself thinking about desertion. His place here had lost all meaning.

Now, with their platoon moved to the rear, there was no fighting at all. There was nothing to do. Ragna was in a similar state. He had lost all motivation.

‘Is he dead?’

If he wasn’t, then why had they heard nothing from him? Without their platoon leader, he had reverted to his old ways.

He didn’t care about anything anymore. Even feeling frustrated or distressed seemed like too much effort.

Ragna just went through the motions, killing time without any real purpose. Other than that one time he had gotten lost and slaughtered over a dozen enemy soldiers, he hadn’t done much of anything.

Audin had been praying, asking his god:

‘Is it time for me to return?’

As always, his god answered with silence, leaving Audin to interpret the meaning of the quiet. Without an answer, all that remained was Audin’s own heart.

‘Should I stay, or should I go?’

Audin had asked himself the question, but he hadn’t yet decided. Jaxon had joined the army with a purpose. Now that his goal was nearly achieved, there was no reason for him to stay any longer.

Leaving would be simple.

If he thought about it logically, there was no need to remain here, engaging in meaningless tasks.

It was a series of pointless days, the height of inefficiency. On any normal day, he would never tolerate such a waste of time.

So why was he still here?

‘Tonight.’

Jaxon made up his mind to leave that night. Of course, this was the third night in a row that he had made such a decision.

The squad members spent their days wrapped up in their own thoughts, each of them on the verge of making a move.

As the sun set and darkness began to fall, someone entered the Mad Platoon’s barracks.

“I’m back.”

It was a simple, familiar greeting.

And as usual, it was him.

Enkrid had returned, and the entire barracks fell silent. Eyes darted between the squad members. Unexpectedly, someone shot forward first.

“Uwaaaaah! Why, why, why are you so laaaaaate! Why soooooooo late?!”

Andrew came rushing to greet Enkrid, tears streaming down his face. His swollen, bruised eye was proof of the suffering he had endured, and his sobbing made his emotions clear.

Enkrid took one look at Andrew’s face and couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“Why the hell is he faster than me, acting all dramatic like that? You’re here, huh?”

Behind Andrew, Rem’s voice rang out. Ragna, Audin, Jaxon, and the rest of the squad followed.

Even Mack and Enri, who were in the corner, were there.

Every eye in the room was on Enkrid.

“Yes, I’m here.”

This was his report of return.