318 - A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

318. I should probably tell everyone they did well. Upon rising, I was hit with dizziness. It was a consequence of lying down for too long. Though I could've staggered, I quickly steadied myself. Being accustomed to today's repetition attuned my senses, correcting subtle deviations from the norm. 'Not bad.' The feeling of the sea washed over me anew. As I stood, turning my head left and right, I noticed Ragna. She was eating porridge with one hand, bandages wrapped around her shoulder and torso. After swallowing what was in her mouth, Ragna's gaze scanned Enkried's entire body. Sinar's eyes mirrored the same action. Both shared the same thought. They hadn't noticed it while I was lying down, but upon standing, something seemed different. It was an obvious remark. Enkried didn't just learn how to dodge amid countless iterations of today. Neither Ragna nor I felt the immediate need to question this. However, Ragna was eager for a spar. Her previously unmatched enthusiasm remained intact. "Tasty?" Enkried asked. Ragna nodded. Nobody fed her, but a friend who arrived with a soldier named Helma or something had made the porridge. It had a taste unlike other meals. This time, it seemed they had added eel flesh. Enkried slowly began to stretch. It's been two days. Ragna, too, began to rise. Was this not a prime opportunity to indulge in laziness? The crazed squad members were inscrutable, and I saw no point in figuring them out. "Are you managing?" "It was just a slight sprain from the start." A mere sprain kept me bedridden for three days; a fracture would be the end of me. Naturally. Enkried didn’t vocalize his thoughts. They were people like that. Whether it was Lem, Ragna, Saxon, or Audin, none of them were likely to change if questioned. Instead of speaking, Enkried moved his body. He practiced moves from the isolation technique that aided body recovery. He felt his muscles, stretched his arms, and slowly raised body heat. This stimulated uninjured parts to circulate blood faster. Despite it being winter, a gentle steam began to rise from Enkried’s body. "A cold? Move to warm up your body. Fractures? Move to warm up your body. Lacerations? Move to warm up your body." This was Audin's method of dealing with injuries. Even Lem found it absurd and sneered, but technically, it wasn’t wrong. At least once a body was trained with the isolation technique, it became somewhat feasible. The isolation technique enhances basic physical endurance. Such a trained body facilitates rapid blood circulation even without movement. Blood circulation aids in healing injuries, thus spurring it further. The strengthening of muscles and physical power also boosts recovery ability, an aspect Enkried personally experienced. Still, it was rather rapid. It's enough to earn the description of monstrous recovery ability. Naturally, Esther, who was napping with her head on her front paws, played a part as well. Sleeping in Enkried’s embrace, she enhanced his regenerative capabilities. It was a minor trick, not even worth calling a spell. This and other minor reasons added up, surprising Sinar. "You have a truly peculiar body." Sinar commented, sitting on his own. He was perched on a chair inside the tent. His posture was one of a knee raised and hugged with his arms. Enkried shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal. With body heat rising, he was only clad in a short-sleeved shirt, though Sinar’s gaze wandered over his form. "That's how it is." Eat, sleep, wake, and recover. Engage in battle retrospection under everyone's scrutiny. This was routine for Enkried. Being gathered like this didn’t feel awkward. The infirmary tent was quite spacious. It could accommodate about twenty strong men. In the middle, a large brazier roared; right beneath it, Esther lay curled up asleep. Beside her sat Ragna, while Enkried exercised near the brazier. Closer to the tent entrance was Sinar. Further in, Dunnakel was drowsily nodding off. Dunnakel also bore many minor injuries but avoided severe harm. Later, I heard that upon realizing I was caught in a trap, he had immediately dashed forward. He bolted madly to the front. Once a lackey to the black blade, this beastkin had now found a place among the unit. Why was that? Enkried occasionally pondered such thoughts. Why are they gathered around me? The soldier with the big eyes, nicknamed 'Wide Eyes,' sat about two steps from the brazier. "I made a mistake." He said suddenly. Enkried paused mid-stretch and asked back. "What is?" "It was risky because I failed to foresee the situation." Despite its fragmented delivery, Enkried understood the gist. Wasn't he the one desperately trying to read the enemy's intentions? "It’s unusual to anticipate." Enkried meant it sincerely. This opponent seemed lunatic. At those words, Kreis turned his gaze towards Enkried. His eyes held a deep emotion—a mix of curiosity and distrust. "Even though we almost got killed?" Kreis stared into Enkried's eyes. How could there not be a shred of resentment? Why were those eyes always so unwavering? Kreis wondered. He found it hard to fathom how a person could be like that. "I'm alive. Not a ghost or anything." He meant that he hadn't died. And that was enough. "Really, Captain." Kreis felt a brief wave of gloom but quickly buried it. Why bother pushing it? He knew well enough that his captain had always been like this. 'Why is he like that?' See, even now he was silently asking with his eyes. Despite surviving a near-death encounter, there was no resentment. This was something that happened while infiltrating enemy lines at his directive, yet he placed no blame on this command. Ragna, being as disinterested as Enkried, looked on with an expression saying, 'What are you asking for?' to Enkried's questioning gaze. "Oh, forget it. Never mind." Kreis brushed away the remnants of his emotions. There was no point in asking questions. That man wouldn’t pay it any mind anyway, and trying to get his attention would only backfire. Even though fate did not conspire against him, he despised losses enough to warrant putting those feelings aside. With rational contemplation, Kreis regained his composure. What next? A review, just as his Captain taught him. Having heard how Enkried narrowly escaped danger, learned everything about Ragna’s experience, and observed the enemy’s movements. Kreis realized just how thoroughly he’d been outmaneuvered. Who was he to predict every move like some grand strategist? Still, because of this, their captain had nearly died. On the other hand, they had previously saved Kreis's life, and yet he nearly ended the life of the one who saved him. Even setting aside the captain’s astonishing naivete, the realization sent shivers down his spine. 'Predicting the battlefield.' That’s a venture fraught with danger. He learned a harsh lesson from this incident. That anything could happen on a battlefield was another lesson he grasped. And he was once again chilled by his opponent's craftiness. The more he thought of it, the more he acknowledged how insane it all felt. ‘They'll be wary if a troop of junior knights is sent out.’ So they opted instead to use regular soldiers to capture an elite few? The act was utterly insane. Sacrificing a thousand soldiers to take down one target? Not even a knight at that? Well, it was conceivable. He should’ve anticipated it. Kreis deemed it his duty to foresee such eventualities. But he hadn’t. Why? Because he lacked experience. No, pinning this solely on the lack of experience would have been a copout. Such scenarios could arise again. So how should he proceed? He needed to broaden his mental horizons. He shouldn't impose limits on what he could envision. He had to consider the most bizarre schemes the enemy might deploy. ‘Except for a dragon flying overhead!’ That was not within the realm of possibility but rather mere escapism via delusion. Though not intentional on Enkried's part, Kreis reflected. Above all, witnessing his captain, so steadfast even in the face of life-threatening danger, left its mark. ‘Never again.’ He resolved to avoid repeating the same mistake. After organizing his thoughts. "How about we open a salon." Kreis offered a frivolous remark. No matter how often he said it, such talk would never reach Enkried’s ears. "I’d visit if there were one." As if! He’d be swinging his sword during that time instead. Wow, how could he just throw around promises he wouldn’t keep? Of course, he wouldn't establish a salon now, so he could say that freely. Well, if he actually did set one up, Kreis would drop by. He'd back up his own words. That's just who he was as a captain. Though, who knew, he might end up practicing swordsmanship inside a salon? ‘This is the worst. The absolute worst.’ Allowing his imagination to wander, Kreis deliberately stopped himself. As Enkried bent forward to touch his toes, he noted the shifting expressions on Kreis’s face. It was entertaining to watch. Kreis ended his bout of daydreaming and shook his head. Regrets were regrets, but the next step was key once lessons were learned. A lesson engrained since youth. That's what Kreis resolved to do. Though there was no consolation, he dismissed his failure without further ado. What could he do about a mistake already made? ‘Did I really not contribute?’ He actually had. If it weren’t for Kreis, Enkried might have fallen headlong into Avnire's layered trap. Esther's actions were also of note. By killing the sorcerer Galaf, she annihilated any means of blocking Enkried's retreat. Ragna's presence was equally beneficial. What role was the junior knight, whom he killed, originally meant to play? Sinar and Dunnakel had also performed notably. Without them, they might have been overwhelmed in the first battle. The enemy’s forces attacking from behind might have genuinely posed a threat to the border. That would have jeopardized their supply line. Their escape might have been cut off. The whole strategy could have gone awry. These people in front of him had preserved this battlefield. That’s what Enkried truly believed. These were the kinds of words worth sharing if there was anything in his heart he shouldn’t keep to himself. Enkried halted his movements. He knew how to instill sincerity and truth into his words. And he did so. Standing upright. Lowering his hands, he glanced around to capture everyone’s attention. Then he spoke. "I should probably tell everyone they did well." Ragna, who was eating porridge, paused, and Kreis blinked while Dunnakel raised his dozing head. At the tent entrance, Sinar stared intently at Enkried and spoke. "You're good at making such comments without a trace of blush. They don't call it magic for nothing." Speaking with hands clasped over their raised knee. "That's not what I meant at all." He defiantly responded to the fae-like joke. "Wasn’t it the Captain who did all the hard work?" Kreis said, blinking in disbelief. Esther, having briefly awoken from slumber, glanced at Enkried before tapping the ground lightly with her paw. It seemed to suggest, "Not at all." Ragna looked directly at Enkried and said, "I fought for myself." Then resumed her meal. Dunnakel nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I did well too." Advertisements They were an amusing group—fae, humans, beastkin, and sorcerers. Enkried genuinely thought so. "Where is Saxon?" Kreis asked. "He said he needed to go somewhere." "Where to?" "I don't know." "And you let him go just like that?" "What else?" Well, truthfully, they're not the kind who'd be caught even if you tried. From the time of the original rowdy squad, Enkried's stance had been consistent. Take care of your own tasks. I won't unnecessarily interfere with your duties. Ragna couldn't care less. Whether that sly stray was around or not made no difference to her. As she sat, she drifted into thought. She was reflecting on what she'd gained. Her flame of determination wasn't extinguished yet. Sinar watched Enkried, while Dunnakel sharpened his scimitar on the whetstone. Scratch, scratch! He sprinkled a little water from his canteen before pressing the blade against the stone. It was the process of honing the scimitar's edge. His touch reflected the knowledge of handling weapons that came with his mercenary past. Seated, Kreis marveled at how these unique individuals had gathered so well. Everyone was spending their time in their own way. As Enkried resumed his movements to generate heat. Rip. The sound of fabric tearing filled the air. Sinar was the quickest to react. Ting. Without any warning, she drew her blades. Standing ready. Esther opened her eyes. Ragna grasped her spoon as if it were a sword. "Uh, hmm, looks like it—black hair, blue eyes, quite a good-looking face." Cold wind blew through the slit of the ripped tent. A voice accompanied that chill. Whoosh. The flames in the brazier flickered wildly, casting jittery shadows. It was past dusk, after the time of twilight. The blue moonlight from outside mingled with the red light from the brazier within. At the point where those lights converged, someone stood. "Sorry about this." He spoke.