A Knight who Eternally Regresses - Chapter 122

Chapter 122: Hey, You Guys Aren’t Ripe Yet

“Hey, you half-baked rookies!”

“It seems like something’s changed in just a few days, Brother.”

The speaker was Audin, the master of deceptive, devilish tongue-play hidden behind a plain smile.

Every now and then, he’d say to take a break, that training could stop, but the moment they did, he’d come down on them like a hammer.

No, he probably wouldn’t even handle a rat so harshly. Of course, Enkrid found it satisfying. The greed within him stretched its roots further.

To learn and to press forward—that was what he sought. Therefore, he welcomed such teachings at any time.

As he stood by Audin’s broad frame, cutting through the morning mist, Enkrid was performing squats, slowly standing and sitting to put strain on his thigh muscles.

Audin suddenly extended a hand toward him.

On reflex, Enkrid blocked it. A sharp snap—it was a wrestling move, or more accurately, Ael Karaz-style Grappling, a form of martial arts or, as they called it in Valaf, combat technique.

One strike aimed at his body was swiftly blocked, but the moment Enkrid pushed back with his shoulder, trying to keep Audin’s hand from grabbing him, a foot came in low.

When Enkrid struck it away, a large hand came into view, covering his sight as it pressed down over his entire body. Sticking right to him, Audin opened his mouth.

“You’ve improved a lot.”

He’d heard that before, even from the rear base.

Thanks to the techniques he picked up from Finn, who had Ael Karaz-style Grappling ingrained, his skills had indeed improved. Still, he couldn’t yet handle Audin.

They had different builds, bone structures, and muscle density. Audin was far stronger than Enkrid, and, despite his size, he was quick on his feet.

At some point, Audin’s hand slipped into an unseen angle and seized Enkrid by the nape of his neck. Audin pulled him with sheer strength, leaving no room for resistance.

In close combat, within wrestling or grappling range, even size could become a weapon.

“If the builds are different, don’t engage.”

Audin had said this countless times while teaching him wrestling. Enkrid had once asked him, “Then what can I do to overcome the difference in build?”

“If the technique is different, that’s enough. So what should you do?”

What else? Train like your life depends on it. He’d heard that during countless twisting, grappling, and bruising matches on the training mats.

Before Enkrid knew it, Audin had him pinned and began to hum a tune with his deep voice.

“The Lord has spoken, ‘Break the joints clean in two.’”

No way a god would say that.

It was, of course, a joke. Audin kept him restrained by his nape and shoulder but didn’t increase his strength further.

Not that he needed to; this was uncomfortable enough as it was.

‘He caught me by feel.’

His reaction had been slow, likely for a variety of reasons. One of those reasons was the injuries. Pain had a way of slowing one’s reflexes.

“When you head into battle, you’ll be fighting again, Brother Platoon Leader.”

Wasn’t that obvious?

It was a given. Though his right wrist was slightly bothersome, it wasn’t entirely unusable.

Besides, he’d been brought here for this exact purpose. If battle broke out, he’d be on the frontlines again, fighting as expected.

“You’re pushing yourself too hard, Brother.”

Audin’s voice remained steady as he held Enkrid down. His right shoulder had been cut, his left forearm stabbed, and his right wrist was still splinted, bruises marking him all over.

He’d already used up all the ointment Jaxon had given him, so he had only herbs to crush and apply to his wounds.

After so many injuries, the ointment had run dry. To begin with, there hadn’t been much to go around.

“How long are you planning to keep this up?”

What was he trying to pull?

There was always a review process after the sparring sessions ended. Usually, now was the time Audin would release him and start that process.

Yet the strength in Audin’s iron grip didn’t waver.

“Brother Platoon Leader.”

He called out to Enkrid in that restrained state. Enkrid, forced down to a near kneel, replied with a half-bowed posture.

“What?”

The morning fog was so thick that it was hard to see anything distinctly around them. Only within a few steps could you make out another’s face in the fog.

There was a guard on duty nearby, but even he, after glancing over once, seemed uninterested in what they were up to.

With the situation clear, Audin made up his mind and acted.

Vwooom.

Enkrid heard a sound he’d never heard before in his life.

Not a sound that echoed in his ears, but one that pounded directly into his body.

Immediately, a warmth seeped into him that was unlike the usual chill of the riverside fog before dawn. It felt as if he was basking in the warmth of an afternoon sun, the kind that made one want to sit leisurely with a book or take a nap.

How would he describe it?

Peaceful?

In any case, something seeped into his entire body.

Peace, warmth, comfort, along with a subtle tingling blooming from his injuries. It only lasted a moment.

Then, Audin’s iron grip released Enkrid’s neck. Enkrid raised his head to look at Audin. He used to call that squad member ‘the religious fanatic.’

Audin looked as devout as any priest. Priests, those who believed in God, sometimes performed miracles. People called those miracles divine power.

“This…”

“No, Brother, you will say nothing. And you’ll tell no one. Swear to the Lord that you will.”

Enkrid looked into Audin’s eyes. A faint light lingered in those pale yellowish eyes. It seemed like light, like radiance, was resting there. That was how it looked to Enkrid.

“Swear it.”

“I will.”

Without another word, Audin turned away.

“For the fog along the river is also a blessing of the Lord.”

Moving aside, Audin knelt and began his morning prayer.

Well then.

Enkrid scratched his head a few times.

‘What on earth does he believe in?’

Sometimes he wondered why his squad members went to such lengths for him.

Was he pitiful?

Did they feel some tenderness when they saw him struggling? Who knows? His curiosity faded quickly. What did it matter?

Audin Pumray—no one knew he possessed divine power. Perhaps using it involved some kind of vow or restriction. But from what Enkrid could tell, Audin had taken a risk.

“Lord, forgive me.”

Seeing the way his prayer began, it seemed so.

‘Did he really have to go this far?’

Still, there was no way to refuse what he’d received. Enkrid unwound the bandage on his wrist. He flexed his right wrist a few times. Judging from his experience with repeated falls and injuries…

‘In a day or two…’

His wrist should be fine to use again. The wounds hidden under the bandages seemed to have improved a lot as well. The dull pain had significantly faded.

“Thank you.”

He addressed the burly squad member deep in prayer, but Audin, lost in devotion, didn’t respond.

‘Lord.’

The smell of wet earth mingled with the scent of death that lingered on the sharp battlefield. For Audin, it was unbearable to just stand by and watch his squad leader.

‘Lord, since you are always there.’

He asked his silent Lord. Was his choice today the right one? If it became known that he had used divine power, the Inquisition would come.

He had left the church under many constraints. Although he hadn’t sworn a direct oath, he had made promises that had placed limitations on his body.

The strain of bypassing those restrictions to wield even a fraction of his divine power brought a headache as sharp as a spike driven into his skull.

But still.

‘I couldn’t just stand by. Lord.’

Someone who burned himself in the flames of effort was finally seeing results. He couldn’t let that fire die here. It could be called capricious, but Audin simply wanted to do this.

Meeting Enkrid had made him believe that the Lord’s words resided within him.

‘So, I will follow my heart.’

Audin finished his prayer.

By then, the morning sun was starting to break through, dispersing the mist. Though he had used divine power to heal Enkrid, not all the wounds had healed at once.

If he’d gone further, sensitive individuals would have detected the power he used, and the restrictions would have prevented him from channeling more.

Even so, his squad leader seemed much better.

“Phew.”

Watching Enkrid stretch and move with noticeably greater ease. Gods and men, blessings and curses…

Though the answer to these questions remained elusive. At the very least, watching a squad leader like that brought peace to his heart.

Although he endured the pain, frowning slightly, Audin felt certain he wouldn’t regret today’s actions.

It was intuition, instinct, and certainty all rolled into one.

After finishing the morning training, Enkrid was about to rewrap his bandages.

“Big Eyes.”

He called out to Kraiss, and just then, the tent flap swung open.

“Is this the place?”

A petite figure with green eyes walked in.

Despite the small frame, she possessed unmatched skill and authority. She was his superior, after all—and the very one responsible for creating this so-called Mad Platoon.

As the Company Commander, she had organized this Independent Platoon and taken them to the front lines without Enkrid.

“I heard you got hurt?”

“Yes.”

As soon as she entered, she spoke directly to Enkrid and tossed something his way.

With a quick motion, Enkrid caught it in midair. It was a round wooden container, about the same size as the ointment Jaxon had given him.

The lid bore an intricate leaf motif, suggesting it had been crafted by someone with remarkable skill.

“Company Commander?”

“Apply it. Elf medicine like that is worth a fortune; consider it an engagement gift.”

Enkrid still hadn’t gotten used to the Commander’s jokes. Especially now, catching him off guard with an unexpected comment left him stunned.

She’d entered abruptly, tossed something his way, and called it an engagement gift.

“I like that expression. It’s a good look.”

With that, the Commander turned and left. Was she really only here to drop off some ointment?

“Now I’m genuinely curious. Platoon Leader, what’s your secret?”

Kraiss, watching from the side, asked him. Enkrid let out a baffled sigh.

“I’m just as curious.”

Why would she suddenly drop by and hand him ointment? The Commander had said that elves had an extraordinary talent for creating this type of medicine.

Given how she’d identified the poison in the medical tent assassination incident, it seemed she was well-versed in pharmacology too.

“This one’s probably better than mine; seems the Allure can be handy at times.”

Jaxon, sitting nearby and casually cleaning and organizing his gear, remarked without even turning his head. Even when he wasn’t looking, he was always attuned to his surroundings.

Thanks to this, he was keenly aware of the battlefield and sensitive to the atmosphere around him.

“That’s probably not the reason.”

Enkrid shook his head.

The fact that she’d made a joke suggested it wasn’t for that reason. Rem started chuckling from the side.

“Just make sure to have three kids.”

What a lunatic.

“Platoon Leader, once you’re out of the military, join me in opening a salon.”

Big Eyes took it even further, rambling on about how such talent couldn’t be acquired easily, that it was better to hone his natural allure rather than the swordsmanship skills he’d picked up later in life.

Enkrid had no desire to spend his life as an idle lord living off noblewomen, so he simply told them to shut up and help him remove his bandages.

“Enough nonsense, help me with these bandages.”

Ragna, who’d been silently watching up to that point, finally spoke up.

“So, does this mean you’re ready for a spar?”

Lately, it seemed Ragna was more eager for training than Enkrid himself.

“You lazy lunatic. Do you think rubbing on some ointment will make wounds heal instantly?”

Rem scolded him.

“Hm.”

Without arguing back, Ragna simply looked disappointed. True, the ointment alone wouldn’t do the trick.

Besides the ointment, however, he received something far more miraculous earlier this morning.

Kraiss unwrapped the bandages while Enkrid angled his shoulder to conceal the injuries as he applied the ointment himself.

“I can do that for you.”

Kraiss offered, but Enkrid shook his head.

“Don’t bother.”

“Tch, so you’re treating it like a lover’s gift now?”

Wham.

Enkrid, sitting on the edge of his cot, extended a leg and lightly kicked Kraiss on the thigh as he carefully spread the ointment over his shoulder.

He repeated the same for his left forearm, and a cool sensation spread from the wound as he applied it.

‘Seems like good medicine.’

It had an even more refreshing effect than Jaxon’s ointment. Enkrid rewrapped his bandages. He was just about ready to move around properly.

He felt good enough to maybe swing his sword a few times. Not that a battle seemed imminent at the moment.

Both sides were merely eyeing each other in a standoff. But if things got tense, a full-blown fight could erupt at any moment.

“Honestly, all this waiting—if we’re going to fight, we should be breaking skulls until it’s over.”

Rem grumbled, frustrated by the lack of large-scale battles lately. Maybe he could swing his sword a bit. Or maybe he should still rest. He was pondering his options.

Toot-toot!

Suddenly, the blare of a horn resounded from outside.

For stealth, whistles were used. In battle, Naurillia’s tradition was to sound the horn.

“The enemy’s approaching! Assemble! Everyone, form up by units!”

Outside, a messenger was running around, shouting orders.

“They’re back again, those crazy bastards.”

Hearing that, Rem pursed his lips and grumbled.

“You know something? Those guys really have nothing better to do, Alluring Platoon Leader.”

“Could you leave off that last title?”

Enkrid couldn’t fathom what was going on.

With his gear hastily strapped on, he started to move out.

“If a fight breaks out, stay out of it. Prioritize taking care of yourself.”

Rem had some final advice.

“It’s probably best to focus solely on recovery until you’re ready to spar.”

Ragna added his own thoughts.

Audin just smiled. Seeing that massive man smiling in such a tender way was a strange sight indeed.

“Were you planning to fight? With that body? Have you lost your mind?”

Jaxon’s tone was practically scolding. Were they treating him like some child left on a riverbank?

Actually, he knew his squad didn’t really see him that way.

But—

They’d do everything to prevent him from getting hurt. Don’t even think of getting injured in front of us.

That was how he interpreted it.

Whether it was Audin with his divine power or the rest of them, it was all the same.

They were his squad.

Looking at it this way, he could only conclude that the Battalion Commander’s choice in placing him here had been astute.

After all, they moved under his command.

‘Though I’m not sure you could call it control.’

Enkrid was still uncertain if he could manage his squad however he wanted. Not that he wanted to, anyway.

“Assembly time, Platoon Leader!”

Outside the tent, Andrew’s voice called out. He’d been on watch along with Mack and Enri, so they were probably all gathered outside.

They’d been assigned that duty together as a favor from the soldier managing the shifts after Rem had tormented them so much.

“Let’s go.”

Enkrid stood up.

Although his shoulder was cut, the leather armor was still sturdy. With his gambeson and the swords hanging from his sides, he felt somewhat fortified.

Time to get a look at the battlefield. He was curious what the enemy was planning.

Would they be issuing more duel challenges?

Rumor had it that the lower ranks kept demanding one-on-one combat.

“This kind of fight is getting dull. For my Platoon Leader, I’d like a proper swing of my axe, but no one’s making it happen.”

That was Rem’s complaint after hearing the evening’s report. He had dodged the duels, calling them a nuisance, yet here he was, complaining.

And so, they marched onto the battlefield.

“Hey, you half-baked rookies!”

An enemy voice bellowed out.