A Knight who Eternally Regresses - Chapter 120

Chapter 120: They’ll Be Fine

‘I think it’s time to move on.’

“Whii-hui-hoii.”

Rem whistled as he walked.

‘If I really push him hard…’

The sight of the returning platoon leader pleased him greatly. Rem was eager to go back and torment Enkrid again.

Maybe it would help Enkrid move on to the next stage of Heart of the Beast. He was excited, even though he planned to teach a secret technique that the continentals couldn’t learn for a mountain of gold.

‘Strange, strange.’

Enkrid was a peculiar man. He didn’t do anything particularly special, yet he wasn’t detestable. Not in the slightest. Normally, you wouldn’t want to look after someone like that, but for some reason, you did with him.

Was it because he was so diligent, always swinging his sword every day? Or because, despite doing all the grunt work, he never once complained?

If asked for a specific reason, it would be hard to answer. Those things might count, but…

‘I just like him, that’s all.’

Sometimes you meet people in life who you just take a liking to for no reason.

‘I never thought I’d feel that way about a continental.’

Rem stopped walking and called out to the figure blocking his way, Audin.

“Hey, big guy. You pray all the time, but can’t you do something with that divine power of yours? Fix the platoon leader’s wrist, maybe?”

“Would you like me to split your mouth open, brother?”

“Huh? Do you want me to match your eye level with my axe?”

Enkrid wasn’t there to diffuse the situation. Audin turned his head, locking eyes with Rem. A cold tension filled the air between them, but it quickly dissipated when Ragna dragged his feet right between the two.

“…Brother, is it okay to cross through here just because you’re annoyed?”

“You lunatic.”

Ragna’s interruption had defused the moment. It wasn’t the first time they had bickered like this. Everyone was used to it by now and simply let it go.

Jaxon walked off to the side, separated from the group. Ragna, if left unsupervised, would change direction on his own, going diagonally instead of straight.

Who knew what kind of sense of direction he had? Actually, it wasn’t about direction at all. It was just his laziness, walking wherever he felt like.

Despite all their quirks, including Rem, each of them had their thoughts on Enkrid, their platoon leader.

‘I’ll have him train with his sword strapped to his body.’

Ragna was no different. Even though he had lost motivation with Enkrid out of sight, he was mentally preparing for what he needed to do once they reunited.

Audin was doing the same.

‘Now that the muscle remodeling is done…’

It was time to move on to the joints. Strengthen the muscles, adjust the joints, and then change his posture—his physique would follow. He’d train what was lacking.

‘Bend, then break, and carve again.’

There was even a way to build a body that wouldn’t crumble under joint locks or strikes. But if he pushed that far, there might not be much left of the platoon leader’s body.

‘I’ll take it one step at a time, Lord.’

Audin finished his thoughts with a prayer. And Jaxon? He wasn’t much different either.

‘It’d be nice if he improved his footwork.’

Even if it wasn’t as silent as an assassin’s, at least get rid of the unnecessary movements.

‘Maximum efficiency with minimal motion.’

Jaxon reflected on his own training, picking out techniques that might be useful. It wasn’t exactly swordsmanship, but…

‘It should help.’

Jaxon had a keen eye. He knew that what he taught Enkrid would help him improve. Though sometimes he wondered,

‘Why bother?’

There was no need to teach Enkrid anything unless he asked for it first. Until then, Jaxon decided to stay out of it.

Although, knowing himself, he might get swept up if those other brutes or fanatics started teaching Enkrid with enthusiasm. He’d have to restrain himself.

After all, the idea of being lumped together was repulsive. To an outsider, they all looked the same.

One guy whistled an annoying tune and then picked a fight. Another walked aimlessly with a vacant look in his eyes. A large soldier muttered to himself, calling out to his lord. And then there was one who, unlike the rest, kept his distance, deep in his own thoughts.

Was this a normal platoon?

Of course not. They had always been a bit rough around the edges as the Troublemaker Squad. But ever since becoming an Independent Platoon, the difference was more obvious.

It was hard to call them a disciplined unit. Even their marching was erratic. They had joined under the 4th Company Commander, but instead of blending into the main unit, they marched separately.

They weren’t even ten strong, and calling them an independent platoon seemed like a joke. Yet no one dared to provoke them.

‘Leave them alone.’

‘If we mess with them, it’ll just be hell for us.’

‘If you want to become cannon fodder, go ahead.’

Everyone had learned this from experience. These weren’t just troublemakers—they were lunatics.

A unit of highly skilled lunatics. They continued marching. It took half a day on foot from the rear camp to the forward base.

It would’ve been faster if they were moving as individuals, but the unit had to maintain pace for deployment.

They had left at dawn and were pacing themselves for an upcoming battle, so the march speed had to be carefully managed.

Even so, it wasn’t the kind of distance where stopping for rest was necessary. If they pushed on, they could arrive by noon. In other words, as long as there were no problems, there was no reason for anyone to halt the entire march.

“Stop.”

The soldier at the front called out, responding to a signal from ahead.

The march came to a halt.

At the front of the unit, the elf company commander raised her fist, signaling the stop.

“What’s going on?”

Rayon, the commander of the 3rd Company, asked. The 3rd and 4th companies had regrouped after splitting earlier.

“There’s something off,” the elf replied.

What could it be?

Rayon frowned. He couldn’t see anything.

The elf commander pointed toward the riverbank. The Pen-Hanil River, the lifeblood of Naurillia and the primary water source for the surrounding kingdoms.

“Someone’s hiding.”

There were several rocks near the river where people could hide, and occasionally ghouls would pop out. The Teyhom Forest would soon appear to the right, and it, too, had its share of monsters.

But this was a battlefield. Most of the monsters and beasts had already been cleared out. Besides, creatures rarely attacked when they saw an army approaching.

So if someone was waiting there…

‘The enemy.’

The elf commander’s intuition was spot on.

“Damn it, we’ve got an elf.”

A voice came from behind one of the rocks. A man with a thick jaw and short hair revealed himself. He wore the helmet of an Azpen soldier, covering his forehead and head but leaving his ears exposed.

They were within arrow range, but the man only half-emerged from behind the rock.

The elf commander shifted her gaze beyond him. Her sharp eyes caught sight of one of Azpen’s prized fast boats on the river.

It was a long boat that could hold up to eight men, with concealed oars under the water that, when rowed, propelled it at high speeds.

If things went south, it seemed the enemy was prepared to escape. Once they hit the water, there would be no way for them to be pursued.

‘Those boats are incredibly fast.’

It was a poor ambush. There appeared to be only about ten of them.

‘A provocation.’

Rayon came to the same conclusion as the elf commander.

“Cheap tricks.”

“Undermining morale is one of the basics of warfare.”

As the two commanders discussed the situation, one of the enemy soldiers stepped out from behind the rock.

“I am Lowell, a soldier of the Azpen Principality! Is there no one here brave enough to face me in honorable combat?”

It was a trick they had fallen for several times before. A challenge not between armies, but an invitation to a duel. Not a knight, but a common soldier asking for a fight.

“Is it dishonorable for your officers to challenge a mere soldier? Or do you lack any competent warriors?”

Lowell laughed, mocking them. An arrow to the head would have shut him up, but the elf commander refrained. They had tried sending a soldier before and failed.

They had sent a squad leader next, but he had also lost. The Azpen soldiers had proven superior in skill. Sending a company commander would damage their pride.

It was a clever tactic, exploiting a subtle gap in their ranks.

‘Didn’t they say Azpen has a genius strategist?’

This strategy didn’t drastically reduce their numbers, but it did crush their morale. The enemy soldiers were clearly better fighters—so why didn’t they have someone like that on their side?

‘If I go out there myself…’

If a company commander accepted the challenge, the enemy would just mock them.

They hadn’t lost every duel. The commander of the 2nd Company, Paltor, had smashed the skull of a challenger with his mace in a fit of rage.

But even after winning, morale had dropped.

“Shame on you for interfering in a fight between soldiers!”

That kind of nonsense had riled up the battlefield.

At first, it hadn’t bothered their troops. But losing battle after battle, morale had plummeted. Even their duels had ended in failure.

The difference in individual skill and training was too much, and with their numbers being roughly equal, it felt like they had already lost.

That was why the enemy kept repeating the same tactic. They wanted to kill them, but the enemy was always prepared to escape.

If they refused the challenge and charged with their full force?

Maybe that would have worked at the start. But now, if they did that, morale would drop even further.

But doing nothing? That would only be opening the gates of hell.

“What’s going on here?”

As they deliberated, a lazy voice called out from behind.

A soldier was casually approaching without any semblance of formation or order. He didn’t even seem like he was part of the unit.

It was Rem from the Independent Platoon.

“Can you kill that guy for me?”

The elf commander spoke, just in case. Before they had left, the wide-eyed Kraiss had given her some advice.

“Today, they’ll be more cooperative than usual. So make the most of it. The mood is tense enough already.”

If it didn’t work, so be it. But if it did…

Why not give it a shot?

“Sure.”

Rem nodded enthusiastically, clearly in a good mood.

“Hey, what’s your name?” Rem called out.

“What? Are you coming out to fight?”

Rem casually walked forward, while Ragna absentmindedly followed behind him until Audin grabbed his arm.

“Huh?”

“Brother, that’s the enemy.”

“Oh, right.”

Jaxon had already made himself comfortable on a smooth rock, becoming a spectator. None of them showed any sign of alarm.

The elf commander felt the same. Even among the other soldiers, there was a faint sense of anticipation.

Who was Rem?

A madman. A bastard of a man to his allies, but to the enemy, he could be the most dangerous son of a bitch imaginable. The anticipation in the air quickly turned into excitement.

The thick-jawed soldier peeking from behind the rock chuckled and stepped forward.

“Looks like no one else was brave enough to face me. It’s just a savage. You’re not planning to lure me in and shoot me with arrows, are you?”

Idiot.

Jaxon shook his head.

It wasn’t close enough for an axe to reach, but for that mad barbarian, it was more than enough distance.

Whoosh.

The moment the enemy soldier’s head poked out, Rem threw his axe.

It was a motion as swift as the wind.

To the ordinary soldiers watching, Rem’s hand seemed to blur. One second his arm was raised, and in the next, the axe had already been thrown.

His movements were so fast that it left an afterimage, as if wings were fluttering from his right hand.

Flap—whoosh!

There was the sound of his sleeve rustling in the wind, followed by the sound of something cutting through the air.

Whiiiish—thunk!

The flying axe buried itself into Lowell’s forehead.

Thud!

With a satisfying crunch, the enemy soldier’s feet left the ground. He flew through the air briefly before crashing down on his back.

Clatter—roll.

The gravel beneath him shifted, scattering sideways.

“Gurgh…”

The soldier lay there, dead, his head split open, an axe lodged between his eyebrows. His eyes remained open, unable to comprehend the suddenness of his death.

Meanwhile, Rem had already drawn another axe with his left hand and was running forward.

Tap, tap.

With a few strides, he closed the distance and slipped behind the rocks.

Thunk!

There was a loud splattering sound as blood sprayed out from the opposite side of the rock.

Smack!

Rem darted to the next rock, where he swiftly beheaded another enemy soldier with a heavy, resonating strike.

And then—

“Argh!”

Another enemy soldier tried to flee, running toward the river, but Rem chased him down, grabbed his head, and slammed his face into the ground.

Thud!

“Grrrr…”

It was hard to tell if it was a groan or a scream. Rem smashed the soldier’s face into the dirt several more times.

His actions were mechanical, like a craftsman methodically creating something over and over again. Of course, what Rem was crafting wasn’t boots or farming tools—but death.

Thud, thud, thud.

After slamming the soldier’s head into the ground four more times, Rem stood up, satisfied that he was dead. With four dead, the remaining enemy soldiers fled without looking back.

They rushed toward the boat, jumped in, and began rowing with all their might. Rem didn’t bother chasing them. The allied soldiers didn’t waste arrows on them either.

“Idiots.”

Instead, Rem raised his hand and gave them the universal gesture of contempt—thrusting his thumb between his index and middle fingers.

It was a rude gesture that, in the common tongue, asked if their mothers had taken up prostitution. The enemy soldiers, focused on fleeing, didn’t even look back.

“Shall we go?”

Rem retrieved his axe from the corpse’s forehead and casually walked back. The elf commander chuckled softly.

But in the end, morale hadn’t improved.

Overwhelming skill? That was fine.

‘But…’

‘I really don’t want to die like that.’

‘Why the face?’

The gruesome way Rem killed and his reputation for cruelty left them all uneasy.

“You want me to grind your face into the ground?”

They had heard Rem threaten people like that countless times. Now, after seeing him carry it out, they couldn’t help but feel a chill run down their spines.

Rem’s intervention had managed to lower the morale of both the enemy and his allies.

“Let’s move.”

After clearing away the bodies, the commander ordered the march to resume.

‘They’ll be fine, right?’

Enkrid was busy getting patched up in the rear. There were no life-threatening injuries, but there were plenty of cuts that could easily get infected without proper treatment.

For now, he couldn’t rejoin the fight. The plan was to join up with the infantry reinforcements arriving soon. In two to four days, he would be ready to head out again.

‘They’ll manage.’

He only briefly worried about his platoon before shaking it off. As long as Enkrid could take care of himself, that was enough.

It wasn’t like his men were the type to die easily. If anything, they’d be the ones doing the killing. Once they joined the battle, they would surely raise the morale of the struggling allied forces.

‘As long as they’re fighting…’

The platoon fought all right. But the situation didn’t quite go as Enkrid had expected.

The enemy’s and their morale were falling at the same time.