A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

Encrid thought the location was ambiguous, but he didn’t voice it.

Isn’t establishing the barracks and determining the position the responsibility of the commander?

Moreover, Marcus didn’t seem like the type to handle things clumsily.

You could tell just by how he called himself the greatest hero in battle.

Nya—

As they moved the base, Esther complained.

Nyaa, nyaa.

She kept whining.

‘When you think about it, isn’t this thing kind of strange?’

She’s a mystical creature, but there’s something oddly peculiar about her. It’s almost like she’s human.

The way Esther’s words seemed to resonate in his ears as if she was actually speaking.

Right now, it felt like she was saying,

“It’s annoying.”

Thinking she was whining, Encrid cradled her in his arms.

When he first saw her on the battlefield, she was a very small panther.

The next time he saw her—when she saved him from Mitch Hurrier and the mustached swordsman—she had grown a bit.

After that, she didn’t grow any bigger.

She was just the right size to hold, and she stopped there.

Yet, this panther had dragged him by the neck with incredible speed.

What kind of strength was that?

“Now that I think about it, you’re a strong panther.”

Encrid said, stroking the head of the panther in his arms.

Ka!

It seemed like she didn’t appreciate the comment.

Esther bit Encrid’s finger. It didn’t draw blood, just left a mark.

If she had meant it.

‘My finger would’ve been bitten off.’

Feeling a strange urge to check her sharp fangs, he looked closely at her mouth, and Esther glared at him.

She behaved so much like a human.

“Let’s go.”

Outside, Krais called out.

Establishing a new base is quite a complex and challenging task.

You have to set up a new camp, verify the supply routes, redefine the perimeter, and reconfigure the scout routes—there’s a lot to change.

Yet they insisted on setting up a new base.

“By the way, Platoon Leader, I feel like I fought the hardest, but it seems like only the Platoon Leader is getting all the cheers. Am I imagining things?”

No, it wasn’t just his imagination.

Somehow, the atmosphere had shifted that way.

Cheers for the Madmen Squad, cheers for Encrid.

Remembering that moment, just two days ago at noon, made his chest tingle pleasantly.

It wasn’t a bad memory.

“Hm.”

As Encrid remained silent, Audin, standing next to him, laughed and said,

“Hehe, my mad brother, it’s because you took down a single Giant.”

“A single Giant?”

“My brother, I struck down dozens of enemy soldiers.”

It wasn’t just striking them, he killed them, quite brutally.

Encrid witnessed it too.

That crude clubbing.

It struck fear into the enemy and relief into their allies.

It was that kind of feeling. Some allies who watched closely even felt a strange fear towards Audin.

Vengeance had told Encrid this directly.

“Hey, that guy in your platoon who’s deeply religious, why does he kill people with a smile? Is there something wrong with him?”

Vengeance had said, tapping his head.

Encrid defended Audin, providing a suitable excuse.

He’s so devout that he feels joy in creating friends for the God he worships.

“That sounds even stranger.”

Vengeance muttered, but for Encrid, that was the best explanation. It was a hundred times better than being labeled as a crazy religious fanatic who loves killing.

“Ten mercenaries drunk on bloodlust, it would have been fatal if left alone. Hmm, it probably was.”

As Ragna joined the conversation, the atmosphere began to grow tense.

Then, from the side, a comment from Jaxon, who had been watching them silently, pierced their ears.

“Idiots.”

The three turned their gazes.

A dangerous tension filled the air. A suffocating pressure surrounded them.

It felt like a fight could break out at any moment if anyone made the first move.

This was just like the original Madmen Squad.

When Encrid wasn’t around, they would test each other and keep a reasonable distance, but now their words flowed without restraint.

Krais didn’t mind. He didn’t feel any of the tension.

Of course, it would have been problematic if Encrid hadn’t been there, but now they were moving together.

Andrew, observing from the side, contemplated.

‘Should I step in?’

Wasn’t he the Squad Leader?

Should he try to defuse the situation before the Platoon Leader intervened?

Andrew hesitated. His past experiences of getting hit held him back.

Just then, Mac grabbed his sleeve and shook his head.

It was a gesture as if Mac had read Andrew’s mind.

Encrid looked up at the sky for a moment.

The sky felt different with the change in temperature.

It was blue and clear, with no clouds. It was spring. The weather was pleasant.

So he decided,

“That’s enough.”

It was a good day to stop a fight.

He didn’t need to step in physically like before.

Instead, he drew his sword.

Chiriring.

One with his right hand.

Then,

Tiririring!

One with his left hand.

The sword drawn with his right hand slashed down from above in the form of a vertical cut, while the sword in his left hand swung wide in a horizontal cut.

The step involved pushing his left foot forward with the right foot following.

This was the sword-drawing technique he had been pondering for days.

It was a modified technique from the Valen Mercenary Sword Technique, originally designed as a dual sword-drawing technique where the first draw was a feint, but here, both sword strikes were meant to be significant.

The sword in his right hand aimed at Rem.

The sword in his left hand swung at Jaxon.

Thud!

The reactions of the two were starkly different. Rem blocked it with an axe, while Jaxon had already stepped back and dodged it.

One sword was stopped, blocked.

The other sliced through empty air.

Encrid sheathed the sword that had cut through the air.

“What are you doing?”

Jaxon asked.

“Want to give it a go? Sounds fun.”

Rem snorted, his voice sounded amused.

Suddenly, Esther, who was in his arms, thumped against his chest as he moved abruptly.

“Let’s do this.”

Encrid said, still holding his swords.

It would be ridiculous to fight like this.

With Esther in his arms, his chest was bulging.

“Let’s do it.”

Rem, putting away his axe, nodded and said.

It could be said it was a peaceful day.

Encrid sheathed his swords, calmed Esther, and continued walking.

‘At least that’s a relief.’

If he had been told to carry supplies, he would have been even more irritated.

The packs of Encrid and his platoon were much lighter compared to other soldiers.

“Aren’t you the heroes of this battle? You deserve a carriage.”

Battalion Commander Marcus was generous, allowing them to walk with just their personal gear.

Other units had to carry additional supplies and tent components.

Naturally, their pace slowed, but Marcus acted as if there was no urgency.

The commotion caused by Encrid and his platoon drew the attention of nearby soldiers, but soon they returned to their routines.

It wasn’t the first time these men had quarreled.

As Encrid walked, he speculated about the future events.

Would they strike the enemy’s rear like this?

He shared this thought with Krais.

Big Eyes shook his head.

“They won’t do that.”

“Why?”

“If we’ve gained the upper hand, wouldn’t it be advantageous to strike the enemy’s rear?”

“Holding the enemy’s base can give us a much greater advantage on the battlefield.”

Encrid tilted his head in confusion.

Why wouldn’t they fight?

How is that advantageous?

If they had an opportunity to strike from behind, they should take it.

As Encrid stared at Krais, he began to explain.

He spoke as if it was no big deal.

“If we attack the enemy’s rear now, we’ll reveal our position and strength to the enemy, and they will respond accordingly. They’ll likely send forces capable of countering us. If they’ve already used Giants, Fairy assassins, and mercenaries, what other options do you think they have left? Especially when their independent company, the Gray Hound, has been half destroyed.”

The question wasn’t hard to answer.

However, saying it out loud felt strange.

Still, it wasn’t a word to avoid.

“Knights.”

“At least at the squire level, or they’ll increase their numbers. Although, I think they’ll likely send a small, elite force.”

Krais’s eyes shone as he spoke.

He continued without waiting for Encrid’s response.

“We’ve already taken advantage of the difficult terrain, and after facing our special forces, the enemy’s morale must be affected. They’ll likely try to repay us in the same manner. Of course, it’s not out of fear of knights or similar forces that we’re not attacking. As I mentioned earlier, it’s about the benefits. From a broader perspective, looking at the battlefield as a commander, it’s a matter of gains and losses. Even if you lose on one front, you can win the war if you gain significantly on another. From that perspective, it’s better to hold our position rather than strike the enemy’s rear. We don’t need to expend our forces unnecessarily, just being here keeps the enemy on edge. What do you think the enemy will do? They’ll likely be quite confused. Meanwhile, our main force advances. So we don’t need to fight. Besides, the enemy’s commander, Aspen, won’t have the resources to divert forces here. That’s why we don’t need to fight. The reason for establishing a base in such an ambiguous position is similar. There’s no need to advance further to strike the enemy’s rear. If the enemy tries something, we can simply retreat and then retake the position a day or two later. This current base is just a setup for that.”

Encrid prided himself on his straightforwardness. He had always been that way with his platoon members.

“Short and to the point.”

He understood about half of what was said, but the rest didn’t quite stick.

Krais, whose eyes had been shining, took a few deep breaths.

Yeah, you were talking without even pausing to breathe.

After catching his breath, Krais continued.

There was no need to choose his words carefully.

“It’s like someone raising their hand to strike you from behind while another person holds your arms in front. How does that sound?”

“Sounds like a pain.”

“Yes, that’s the situation the enemy is in.”

If they tried to shake off the grip in front and block the rear, what would happen?

Even if someone in front and behind swung simultaneously, one could block both quickly. But just standing there becomes an unsettling situation.

Sometimes, just sometimes, Krais didn’t seem like a regular soldier with simple ambitions, despite his big eyes and small dreams of opening a salon for noble ladies.

For someone who dreamed of opening a noble salon, he had quite the sharp mind.

It made one wonder if he might secretly be the son of some strategist or perhaps a hidden disciple.

Predicting the enemy commander’s thoughts based on the situation in front of him, as well as the movements of their own commander and main force, led to such thoughts.

“Of course, this is all just speculation. If the enemy commander decides to say, ‘Forget it, I’ll just kill them first’, then they’ll come at us, knights or not.”

Krais verbally expressed doubt, but his eyes conveyed a different message.

He was an enigmatic guy.

Encrid nodded.

So, there won’t be a battle.

Knowing that was enough.

Still, being here wouldn’t be boring.

Setting up the new base was the responsibility of other units.

While they set up tents, lit fires, and prepared food, Encrid’s Madmen Squad settled in one area.

As soon as they did, Encrid called out to Rem.

It wasn’t necessarily about who was first, but implicitly, Rem always took the lead.

Otherwise, you never knew what this wild barbarian might do.

Ragna, sitting with his rear on a suitably warmed rock, turned his gaze.

Jaxon, Audin, Andrew, and Mac all looked at Encrid.

“Let’s begin.”

Encrid said, and Rem grinned, revealing his sharp canines.

That’s right, that’s our Platoon Leader.

It was a smile that spoke volumes.

Rem was still satisfied.

And along with that satisfaction came a hope.

He hoped this guy wouldn’t die here.

“I’ll say it upfront. You could die.”

“That’s fine.”

Death was not an obstacle for Encrid.

He was living a life where today kept repeating itself.

The torn, rolled, faded, and vanished dreams lay before him.

Encrid’s eyes gleamed with passion and desire.

In front of him, Rem showed a similar look in his eyes.

When had he ever seen a person like this?

Never.

This man, this continental man, was truly crazy.

Rem chuckled.

“Good. Let’s do it. Let’s see if we can die.”

Rem spoke and nodded.

It was time to learn something new—specifically, what Rem had shown against the Giant.

Encrid felt a thrilling excitement, yet also a strange calmness.

It was a peculiar state where excitement and tranquility coexisted.

It was a sign that the Heart of the Beast had ripened perfectly.

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