A Knight who Eternally Regresses - Chapter 115

Chapter 115: Aren’t You Guys Sleeping?

Enkrid sparred with Rem in a rapid exchange of sword strikes. With Ragna, it was more of a measured practice, their swords clashing lightly.

With Audin, it turned into a hand-to-hand fight, exchanging blows and grappling techniques. After the sparring sessions were over, Rem spoke up.

“You’ve learned to walk now.”

It sounded like a jab, but Enkrid knew it wasn’t meant that way. Rem’s face had a faint smile. To Enkrid, it seemed like a satisfied expression.

“You’ve cut down on waste.”

Ragna chimed in.

It wasn’t exactly a compliment, but the content was positive. Despite his usual indifferent demeanor, Ragna’s eyes showed a level of enthusiasm Enkrid hadn’t seen before.

Normally, he barely bothered to open his eyes all the way for anything. The look in Ragna’s eyes reflected his deep satisfaction with their sparring session.

A cool intensity emanated from his gaze.

“You’ve kept up with your sensory training.”

Jaxon offered a calm acknowledgment.

“You’ve taken a step closer to the divine.”

Audin threw out one of his strange remarks. Enkrid mulled it over several times, but the meaning sounded off, so he just stared at Audin.

Rem spoke up first.

“Isn’t that like praying for him to drop dead?”

“No, Brother, it’s a blessing.”

How is that a blessing?

In any case, the sparring was over.

“Is that the infamous troublemaker squad leader?”

“He’s the lunatic squad leader now, you idiot.”

“What’s up with that?”

“So that’s the guy, huh.”

“I heard he’s a training-obsessed lunatic.”

Murmurs from the onlookers reached his ears. Those who had been silent until now had their mouths agape in surprise.

Enkrid’s breath was heavy, his shoulders heaving. His wrist throbbed. His limbs, worn out with fatigue, trembled from exertion. It wasn’t a bad feeling, except for one thing, however.

‘It’s frustrating.’

Because of his injured right wrist, they all held back against him, and that left him feeling unsatisfied. Still, he’d learned a lot.

From past experiences—like the things he encountered after crossing the fortress walls of Cross Guard, and even the fight against Frog after he returned.

It felt like he had poured out everything he’d gained from those experiences. And he added a few new realizations from today’s sparring.

He wanted to reflect on them. In other words, he wanted to keep fighting.

“Hold up. If you keep pushing, your wrist’s gonna be completely wrecked.”

Rem, sharp as ever, advised him. He knew well enough the importance of rest. It was something he had long since learned and understood.

Enkrid took a deep breath and shrugged his shoulders. The spectators began to disperse. Some of them even gave him a nod of acknowledgment as they left.

“You came?”

It was Vengeance. Now, they held equal ranks.

“Yeah.”

Since Enkrid was a few years older, the conversation naturally became more casual.

“Good to see.”

Why did he seem so awkward?

After exchanging brief greetings with a few others like Bell and the stitching expert, Enkrid headed back into the barracks.

“So, let’s hear it. What’ve you been up to?”

Rem suddenly said.

He was curious. What kind of ordeal had this stubborn, hard-working man gone through to improve this much?

For Rem, calling it “learning to walk” was a compliment reserved for those who had broken through a significant barrier. Sure, he’d gone easy on him during the sparring because of the wrist, but there was a clear change.

He kept seeing those whip-like, fluid slashes. Was it confidence in his body, his weapon, his arms, and his hands, all honed through countless repetitions?

The difference between the Enkrid before he went out for reconnaissance at Cross Guard and the one now was this.

Confidence, and the ability to act without hesitation. Some might call it experience. Others might say it’s the kind of skill that becomes second nature.

It felt like everything he’d built up over time had become more refined. It seemed worth hearing what he had to say. What kind of fun had he gotten into while Rem wasn’t around?

Ragna also sat down, looking interested, while Jaxon and Audin took their seats too. Andrew, Mack, and Enri all leaned in to listen.

“I feel like a storyteller now.”

Enkrid muttered, looking at his squad members gathered closely in front of him. A story, huh? It wasn’t that difficult to tell one.

Enkrid recounted his experiences plainly.

Getting caught in a trap, spearmen in front, archers behind, and Ranger Finn’s keen eyes. The lycanthrope and the wizard waiting on the wall.

Even his fight with Frog. He spoke truthfully, except for omitting the part about today’s repeated sparring sessions, and he added that he’d gotten lucky a few times.

The calm way he spoke contrasted with the intense nature of his stories.

“Did you get cursed or something, gaining skills every time you almost die?”

Rem chuckled as he asked. It certainly seemed that way to him. Every time Enkrid faced a near-death situation, his skills seemed to jump up.

Could it be that the squad leader was secretly a genius? No, definitely not. He’d taught him directly—he knew better.

Maybe something just got triggered in those life-or-death moments. Regardless, it was curious how his skills seemed to spike every time he faced death, but Rem didn’t particularly mind.

What did it matter anyway?

“Well, it sure sounded interesting.”

The others nodded in agreement, but Andrew looked like his soul had left his body as he asked.

“You came back alive from all that?”

Could everything he’d just heard be brushed off as mere luck?

Even that sparring match earlier. He thought he might have been able to keep up with Enkrid before. But now, when had the gap between them grown so large? Had he been neglecting his training?

‘No way, that can’t be it.’

Hanging around with the lunatics had made every day feel like a living hell. His skills had improved accordingly.

Mack had even said it before.

“It’s a damn nightmare, but you gotta admit it. You get better when you roll around with Rem.”

So he’d given it his all, and trained harder than ever. However, the gap had widened nonetheless.

“I just got lucky.”

Enkrid spoke up, giving his usual response. Andrew had nothing more to say. Enkrid then suggested they call it a night and checked the state of his wrist.

It felt worse than after his fight with Frog.

“Looks like I’ll need to stay in the barracks tomorrow because of my wrist injury.”

“No need for the medical tent, but yeah, fighting is out of the question.”

“Not even up for debate.”

“I’d like to rest too, you know.”

Jaxon started, followed by Kraiss, Rem, and Ragna. Enkrid had expected this. With his wrist in worse shape, he knew they’d insist on him resting.

If the higher-ups asked why he sparred with that wrist in the first place…

“Well, that’s just a tradition in our squad, didn’t you know?”

Rem would probably answer something like that. Either way, rest was important. The fact that his wrist had gotten messed up after the fight with Frog was undeniable.

He might be able to swing a sword a few more times, but overdoing it would certainly cause permanent damage.

“Did you give up on the shield?”

Ragna asked as he found his spot. Enkrid nodded.

“This suits me better.”

As he spoke, he drew out the guard sword to show him. The blade had a few nicks, and there was a dent in the middle, but…

It was still usable.

“Some things just don’t fit a person’s hands.”

Ragna nodded in agreement. It was their first night back. So, as everyone lay down to sleep, Rem spoke.

“Let’s not get outdone by the likes of Frog.”

Didn’t it sound a bit odd, calling Frog “the likes of”?

“True. We need to train more. There’s a lot to do.”

Ragna added. Jaxon simply cast a cool, watchful glance.

“Squad leader, Brother, if we keep training, we’ll get there.”

Even Audin, with his devilishly smooth tongue, chimed in.

“If we go up against him again, we’ll win.”

When Enkrid responded confidently, the others chuckled.

“Well, someone’s feeling confident.”

Rem spoke for the group, and as they tried to settle into the darkness and sleep…

“Once your wrist heals, let’s go for it for real.”

“When it’s all better, there’s a lot I can teach you. Gotta fix those little bad habits too.”

“There’s no end to training, Brother.”

“There’s still more to do.”

From Rem to Jaxon, each one spoke up again. To learn something new. To advance. To keep walking forward, and then keep walking again.

It was exactly what Enkrid longed for.

For now, he needed to focus on recovery.

His wrist felt stiff.

‘Looks like they don’t plan on letting me back on the battlefield.’

It was a strange feeling. Having people worry about him, those kinds of people. Maybe since he wouldn’t be fighting, Rem and the others would put in a bit more effort tomorrow morning?

Who could say?

Enkrid still didn’t fully understand why they followed him so closely.

All he could do was guess. He didn’t even want to try to find out for sure. Better to leave things as they were than stir up trouble. He was content with how things were.

If it became necessary, they would tell him. He would continue to treat them as he always had.

“Let’s do that.”

He answered them once more, finally ready to fall asleep. But then—

“Seriously, about Frog, though.”

Rem mumbled, raising himself halfway and slicing the air with his hand.

“You block like this, then strike like this. Faster than him. Just get your wrist healed, and I’ll drill it into your bones. The art of frog-killing.”

“Instead of heavy sword techniques, learn the basics and make them second nature.”

“You should maintain the isolation techniques that don’t rely on your right hand, Brother.”

“…And never let your guard down.”

None of the squad members seemed to stop talking.

“Aren’t you guys going to sleep?”

It seemed like they’d chatter all night if left alone.

What’s with this? Were they just excited because they hadn’t seen him in a while? Or did they just have no one to pick on?

Well, Andrew’s swollen black eye certainly seemed to suggest otherwise.

“I’m going to sleep. I am already tired anyway.”

Rem’s words marked the end of their conversation. Everyone settled down to sleep.

Nyaa—

Esther, who had been hiding in a corner, crawled into Enkrid’s arms.

Lying down, Enkrid thought back on the fight with Frog and today’s sparring sessions. Today’s sparring felt unfinished.

Yet, he couldn’t help but feel his blood boiling. Maybe it had been a way to confirm what he had learned so far.

Why did it feel like he was seeing a new path forward?

As he replayed the events and entertained idle thoughts, Esther’s warmth against his chest made him feel drowsy. And so, Enkrid fell asleep.

A little later—

“They said my talent would be useful anywhere.”

Andrew muttered quietly, a hint of frustration in his voice. Mack, lying next to him, had nothing to say. By his standards, Andrew was exceptionally gifted.

He could see his progress day by day.

But in this squad…

‘Well, this is… something else.’

Where could you find people like these?

He doubted there were many. For Mack, this was the first time seeing such a concentration of highly skilled fighters.

Even Enkrid, their squad leader, had grown far stronger. He had already been skilled before—enough that Mack had told Andrew not to challenge him.

But now, it felt like he had crossed some new threshold. Mack, struggling for words, finally offered what he could.

“You should spend less time comparing yourself to others and more time swinging your sword.”

He spoke in line with the lunatic squad’s philosophy. Andrew let out a long sigh at that. Morning came, and Enkrid opened his eyes.

‘Did I oversleep?’

Nyaa.

Esther, nestled against his chest, rubbed her cheek against him. He reflexively reached out with his right hand to pet her, but switched hands midway.

His splinted wrist made it impossible to use his right hand. He stroked Esther’s fur with the tips of his left fingers.

She purred softly, content.

Looks like she overslept too.

Sunlight streamed between the gaps in the barracks as Enkrid propped himself up. Just then, Kraiss entered through the entrance.

“Awake?”

“Slept in, huh.”

“Well, you’ve earned it. A day or two won’t be enough to shake off all that fatigue, not after everything you’ve been through.”

He had heard about everything Enkrid had been through the previous night. Kraiss knew well that his squad leader had monstrous stamina, but if someone didn’t feel exhausted after such a grueling ordeal, they wouldn’t be human.

“Let’s eat.”

Enkrid got up, wiped the sleep from his eyes, and grabbed some food. Breakfast was well-cooked potatoes with thin slices of bacon sprinkled with salt.

“Quality food, huh?”

“They’re taking special care of us. Oh, and the rest of the squad moved to the front lines.”

Kraiss pointed upward as he spoke. Was that a sign of high expectations for this squad? Was that why they got special rations?

Did Rem and the others move ahead of him? Was that good news or bad?

It seemed likely they’d moved quickly to give him time to rest, using his wrist as an excuse. Would his squad really follow the commander’s intentions?

He wasn’t sure.

Even if he tried to nudge them directly, they wouldn’t always listen. Maybe, just for today, they’d fight a little harder. Maybe they’d push themselves a bit more, knowing it was in exchange for letting him rest.

Rem had once joked about killing three people; maybe today he’d kill five. He could at least hope for that much, but would they really fight the way their commander hoped?

That was anyone’s guess.

He didn’t know how critical his squad would be in the grand scheme of tactics and strategies.

His thoughts trailed off there.

After all, he had never learned large-scale tactical operations. The commander would know what to do.

War Maniac Marcus.

He’d live up to that name.

After finishing breakfast, Enkrid practiced his isolation techniques, making sure not to strain his right wrist, then began reviewing his fights.

Reflecting on what he’d learned and going over his mistakes—things he did every day.

‘Did I make any mistakes?’

If there were, where? He had to ensure he wouldn’t repeat them next time. Every bit of experience from a life-and-death battle was a valuable asset. It was something a mentor from a small fishing village he’d visited once had told him.

That advice had stuck with Enkrid ever since. As he continued to review his fights alone, a restlessness settled in.

He couldn’t sit still, so he got up, but with his wrist splinted and bandaged, he couldn’t hold a sword properly. Standing there with his eyes half-closed, Enkrid visualized.

Audin, Ragna, Rem.

He replayed yesterday’s sparring sessions in reverse order—past Frog, through the night he faced the wizard, surrounded by lycanthropes, and the moment he escaped the elite soldiers.

‘Luck.’

Luck had played its part. It was a kind of luck he’d worked for, so maybe it was more like calculated luck. He turned the thoughts over in his mind and moved his body. The more he thought, the more his blood pumped.

He couldn’t hold back the urge to swing his sword.

“Training-obsessed lunatic.”

Someone had called him that once.

‘It really does suit me.’

At the end of his thoughts, unable to hold back, he drew his sword.

Shing.

With his right hand out of commission, he used his left hand instead.

‘I can use a sword with one hand anyway.’

He thought he could manage with just his left hand. Maybe he should focus on building more strength. With that in mind, he gripped the sword in his left hand and swung it down.

Woosh.

It was a clumsy swing. Even he could tell that. It felt completely different from when he used his right hand.

‘Feels like I’m starting over.’

But it was far better than staying idle. He needed an outlet for the burning desire, the bubbling determination inside him.

“Look at that crazy bastard, swinging a sword with his left hand just because his right one’s busted.”

Vengeance, who had stayed behind for rear defense, muttered as he watched Enkrid from a distance.

Enkrid didn’t pay him any mind. Or perhaps he didn’t even hear him.

Complete focus.

Enkrid retraced the path his right hand had taken with his left, searching for what he’d missed before.