A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

Thinking it was impossible meant there were no expectations.

To add to this, it also meant it was something unwanted.

‘Me, a Battalion Commander?’

Just controlling the platoon members, including Rem and the beastfolk Dunbachel, was honestly becoming a hassle.

Rather than that, he wanted to swing his sword one more time. It was a natural desire, a yearning.

It felt as if he could almost touch a dream that had always been out of reach.

Anyone would desperately bend and stretch their fingers, trying to pull that dream toward themselves.

It was such a moment. When one wanted to indulge in desire rather than responsibility.

But to encompass the entire city?

Someday he might welcome such a task, but not right now.

The thought of finding a reason seemed ridiculous.

What would happen if he somehow became the Battalion Commander?

Rem’s words came vividly to mind.

“Battalion Commander? Then I’ll be a Company Commander. Give me my company members.”

He would manage dozens of soldiers and grant them honorable discharges.

Everyone would be busy running away.

In retrospect, entrusting Dunbachel, the beastfolk, to Rem might have been a mistake.

Though he had no intention of taking care of it now.

So the answer was decided.

He didn’t want it right now.

“No, thank you.”

Though the thought was long, the decision-making speed was quick. It was so fast that there was no hesitation. The answer came as soon as the question was asked.

“I thought you might say that.”

Marcus nodded as if it was the most natural thing. He didn’t seem disappointed. Still, he added a few words.

“Let’s say I asked you twice more, making it three times in total. If you change your mind based on that, feel free to tell me anytime.”

“Understood.”

Encrid answered nonchalantly once more.

“Alright, then let’s hear the reason. I should at least know why you declined, shouldn’t I?”

Marcus interlaced his fingers and rested his chin on them. It seemed to be a habit of his, a pose Encrid had seen often.

Though it didn’t feel like Marcus was particularly curious, Encrid answered. It’s only right to respond when asked.

It was also a question from a superior.

Standing straight in front of the table, Encrid opened his mouth.

“The 1st Company Commander won’t approve.”

He meant there would be internal opposition.

The 1st Company Commander was originally the closest to becoming the next Battalion Commander. Since the Border Guard Commander was taking charge of Martai, this position should rightfully go to him.

Even if he was suppressed, having a subordinate right below harboring resentment wouldn’t make for a good picture.

“You have a political insight too.”

Marcus spoke, maintaining his pose with his fingers interlaced under his chin. Still, it seemed insufficient, so he asked again.

“Any other reasons?”

“I don’t need the Battalion Commander position.”

“…Not needing this position is quite unusual. It doesn’t sound like an excuse or pretext, which makes it even more so.”

Marcus relaxed his posture. He leaned back in his chair. Now he seemed genuinely interested.

Encrid knew this man had a few tricks up his sleeve.

But it wasn’t a problem, so he could continue speaking smoothly.

Saying it wasn’t necessary, that was the gist of it.

To become a Knight, skill came first. Martial prowess was paramount. The qualities of a commander were a secondary issue.

Of course, if the qualities of a commander became an issue, if it was necessary, he would learn and adapt to them.

Originally, whenever something was needed, he would push his body to the limit, risking his life to learn.

But right now, it wasn’t particularly necessary.

He felt a new sense of inadequacy, or rather, it was more accurate to call it a thirst.

From Zimmer’s thrusts to everything before, there were countless things to newly learn and master.

He had realized something even from Battalion Commander Marcus’ strategy. There was still a long way to go.

He wanted to walk that path.

It was a path toward a faded dream. Therefore, he wanted to postpone the responsibility.

That was his true intention.

Encrid had just now realized his true intention. He was seeing his present self through a few words.

One only understands their own depths by digging into them.

“I still lack skill in handling the sword.”

Encrid answered.

“If your skill is lacking, then most of the soldiers would need to die.”

Marcus responded. Then, as if understanding, he clapped his hands lightly.

“Well, it’s hard to give something to someone who doesn’t want Krona’s pouch.”

Marcus muttered this. Instead of telling him to leave, he asked about the recent surrounding situation.

Encrid answered as if it were obvious.

“It seems the situation around us will continue to deteriorate, doesn’t it?”

Encrid spoke from intuition, but such problems were indeed emerging.

It had only been a few days since the battle ended, so it wasn’t visibly apparent yet.

Above all, this battle ended quickly, like popcorn popping in a fire.

They had expected a series of prolonged sieges but broke through with strategy.

At first, they hid Encrid, and the second time, they opened the gates of Martai.

Because of this, both the enemy and their commander lost morale and surrendered swiftly.

If they had fought with all their might from the start, they might have shed much more blood than expected.

Anyway, Marcus was also aware of the surrounding situation.

As the city grew larger and stronger, problems naturally increased.

Moreover, it was hard to expect help from the central government in this situation.

With the board changed, the Border Guard withdrew the Border Guard Garrison, weakening their forces.

Additionally, they had provoked the Black Blade Bandits and became a threatening position to the surrounding nobles by swallowing Martai.

On a personal level, Encrid had killed members of the Cult of the Demon Realm Sanctuary.

“That’s why I offered you the Battalion Commander position.”

“What would change if I took it?”

Was he asking because he didn’t know?

“A commander with overwhelming strength is impressive.”

But that seemed unrelated to commanding the entire city.

“And, to be honest, the 1st Company Commander wouldn’t hold any grudges.”

Marcus added.

Only if he thought he had a chance would he dare to challenge. This was practically a monster. The 1st Company Commander rebelling? No way.

He might harbor inner dissatisfaction, but he would have every reason to outwardly comply.

Marcus thought so, but Encrid did not agree.

Humans are most tormented when something they believed was theirs or were confident about is taken away.

Everyone had different thoughts, but it was not a problem.

Encrid wouldn’t accept, and Marcus had no real intention of giving it.

Marcus thought it would be more interesting to give Encrid an even bigger position.

Moreover, once he became a Knight, lands would naturally follow.

‘Since when did I start believing this guy would become a Knight?’

Marcus thought this inwardly, but outwardly he said what he had prepared.

“Then, at least take on the role of Training Company Commander.”

From here on, it was Marcus’s decision alone. The Border Guard Garrison had vacated their posts, but increasing the numbers of the Madmen Platoon was not an easy task.

No, he would try, but…

“It’s best not to expect too much.”

Hadn’t the Fairy Company Commander said that?

Wasn’t Rem an expert at driving people to their limits?

Probably nine out of ten would desert after joining?

So, this was the next plan.

‘Give them a sense of belonging and status, provide justification and tasks.’

Encrid, who was already enthusiastic about training, seemed quite suited for the job of teaching.

Thus, the new position of Training Company Commander was created.

“Yes, understood.”

Encrid accepted this readily. Though it was unexpected for Marcus, Encrid had similar thoughts.

What is the best way to ensure the city’s safety?

Increase the overall quality of the troops. And how do you achieve that?

‘Make them work hard.’

While he didn’t expect them to train as hard as he did, increasing training time and enforcing it to some extent would inevitably improve their skills.

Wasn’t he proof of that?

It might have been alarming news for the Border Guard Reserve under the commander, but…

In this room, it was only Marcus and Encrid.

“Then.”

“Alright.”

Encrid saluted and withdrew. The position of Training Company Commander was one thing, but first came the victory party.

It was during this that his contributions in the recent battle would be recognized.

The rest would follow after.

Until then, Encrid planned to hone what he had newly learned and felt.

Time was always more precious than gold coins.

Especially lately, when he hadn’t even encountered any walls.

‘Is the ferryman being lazy?’

If the ferryman had heard this, he would have chuckled in disbelief.

So, two days later, the victory party took place.

“Woah! A glorious battle! The conquest of Martai announces the birth of a new hero and rising star in this region!”

With this battle, the name Encrid spread beyond the city in an instant.

Had announcing his name in the middle of the battlefield been effective?

He didn’t know.

It could have had an impact, or it might not have. It was something truly unknowable.

While everyone was eating, drinking, chatting, and cheering loudly, Encrid’s mind was elsewhere.

‘Experience.’

Digesting past experiences was important, but he saw that as stagnation.

Apart from assimilating what he already had, he now had new aspirations.

Did that mean he needed an adventure? Should he leave this place?

For new patterns, new experiences?

Something he had realized from observing Marcus’s strategy was swirling in his mind again.

“What are you thinking about so deeply?”

Rem asked from beside him, holding a pumpkin pie in one hand and a bottle of distilled liquor in the other. The sharp smell of alcohol pricked his nose. It was a nearly undiluted spirit.

Rem seemed to be enthusiastically soaking his insides with the liquor.

Encrid was sitting on a chair by one of the market stalls.

They had been drinking since broad daylight.

Meanwhile, the soldiers, citizens, children, and adults alike kept glancing at Encrid.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

He was, after all, the hero of this recent battle.

Of course, Rem and the other members of the Madmen Platoon were receiving attention as well.

But these were people who didn’t care about the gaze of others in the first place.

In the meantime, Jaxon had disappeared somewhere.

He might have gone to the red-light district again.

“I’m thinking about how many good fighters I could meet wandering around the continent.”

It was an honest answer.

Rem chuckled at this.

“I’ve wandered around a bit, and it’s not easy. Most of the ones you hear about being good fighters are just talk.”

“That’s true.”

Ragna, who had come over without notice, agreed with the statement.

His cheeks were flushed, indicating he had had a few drinks. However, he didn’t seem drunk. He probably hadn’t drunk much.

He wasn’t one to enjoy drinking much, supposedly.

Anyway, from their words, it was evident both had wandered around the continent a bit.

“Is that so?”

Encrid asked, feeling a strange thirst.

What was the nature of this thirst?

Was it a desire to fight more? It wasn’t that simple.

Was it an eagerness to hone his swordsmanship? That didn’t seem right either.

Was it some compulsion born from not being able to repeat ‘today’? Was he waiting for repeated deaths?

For Encrid, the repetition of ‘today’, the wall, the ferryman, these were all separate matters.

Although he jokingly blamed the ferryman in his monologue, whether ‘today’ repeated or not didn’t matter to Encrid.

It was because he kept moving forward that he was who he was now.

The repetition of ‘today’ was just a tool he used on his path forward.

He thought it was just something that had coincidentally become part of him.

So this thirst was something different.

Something entirely different.

It had arisen after he grasped the form of the Correct Sword Technique. It was simply a desire to compete with those across the vast continent, a sense of rivalry.

It could also be called a burning fighting spirit.

‘Fight and experience.’

That was the path to fully realizing the mended dream.

Until now, he had always been dragged along when learning something new, but this time was different.

After observing Marcus’s strategy, Encrid identified what he lacked. He was building a new tower of experience by digesting past experiences, a milestone he recognized and set himself.

“Should I gather rumors about good fighters, swordsmen, or whoever?”

It was Bald Gilpin. When did he arrive?

He seemed to have had a fair amount to drink as well. Despite this, his demeanor remained composed. He wasn’t the type to make mistakes.

Encrid pondered Gilpin’s suggestion.

If he received that list? Then should he leave? Abandon the city?

It was something to consider.

Krais, who had been watching quietly, suddenly asked.

“But Captain, there’s an easier way. Why go on an adventure and become a wanderer?”

“What do you mean, Big Eyes?”

Rem asked, sipping his drink. And indeed, our big-eyed soldier had quite the head on his shoulders.

His brain was undoubtedly as robust as his big eyes suggested.

“With this battle, your name has spread far and wide, and we have quite a few people in Martai and the pioneer villages who can speak for us. It’s simple. Instead of seeking them out, make them come to you.”

Krais’s words were truly appropriate and like a bolt of enlightenment.

Surely the sense of rivalry wasn’t unique to Encrid.

For anyone who fancied themselves a good fighter.

“That sounds plausible, Big Eyes brother.”

Audin agreed, and Dunbachel nodded beside him.

“There are quite a few mercenaries who wander around to hone their swordsmanship.”

Dunbachel’s words were spot on.

“What about soldiers who have just ended a war? They’ll flock to you, and if you defeat them repeatedly, word will spread. You can fight them until they tire out, or if this place becomes a battlefield, the numbers might drop.”

“Krais, you do it.”

Encrid was impressed and gave him a fitting reward: Krona’s pouch. The pouch he had saved to get new armor went into Krais’s hands.

“Oh.”

Krais caught the pouch with the agility of someone blocking a flying dagger. His hands were that quick.

“Thank you.”

Krais laughed heartily. Encrid was satisfied as well.

“Spread the word well.”

“Don’t worry!”

This was a deal where everyone was satisfied.

Rem chuckled too. It was a decent victory party.

As time passed, some soldiers approached, expressing their desire to join the Madmen Platoon.

“I want to go mad too!”

“I want to be a madman!”

“I’m already a madman!”

It was unclear why the transfer requests all sounded like this.

Rem, half-drunk, enthusiastically agreed to take them all in.

Then, he looked at Encrid and said,

“We’re too few for a Company.”

That was true.

So, if they didn’t regret it after sobering up, they would all join the Madmen Platoon.

It wasn’t a formal test, but if their words were sincere, their skills would be roughly assessed.

Additionally, there were comments about glory and the birth of a hero.

What was clear was that Encrid was the star of this party.

“Wouldn’t you like to eat marmalade for the rest of your life? For free, of course.”

In between, there were temptations from city merchants and attractive women.

“No way!”

A young man from the city cried out in despair.

Even without the young man’s cry, Encrid had no intention of doing anything with the marmalade girl.

Especially after seeing the look of utter devastation on the young man’s face.

“I’ll buy it at the right price.”

“Pfft.”

Some of the market women were bold, and some subtly flirted, but the situation took a dramatic turn when a significant figure appeared to both resolve and complicate matters.

“Count Molsen is arriving!”

The servant’s cry echoed through the party.

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