A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

Frog recalled the scene reflected in his eyes.

"I thought he would win."

He was someone who had been taught and had quite talented himself.

His personality wasn't particularly pleasing, but that's not something he could change.

A soldier trained primarily in thrusting.

He was quite skilled.

He wasn't someone who would die so easily on such a small battlefield.

If he had kept him, he would have at least become a squad leader.

Frog recalled why the soldier had died.

"Was it due to lack of experience?"

No, there were only a few soldiers trained in this way until now.

He wasn't just someone who would die like this.

"Was it because the opponent was skilled?"

So, it was bad luck. He was ignored by the goddess of luck.

Frog chuckled softly.

"Luck is also a skill."

As he entered his camp, an lieutenant approached.

"I've been looking for you for a while, General."

"Oh, really?"

"Were you out on the enemy lines?"

"I just went out for fun."

"You seem to be in a good mood."

"I saw the guy who got stabbed there."

Frog considers 'heart' a taboo word.

Just watching someone get stabbed to death next to him makes him sick.

But Frog laughs while saying that.

The lieutenant thinks there might be bugs in the general's head.

But the lieutenant doesn't doubt him.

The experienced Frog sometimes mentions the word 'heart'.

And the Frog general in front of him was a seasoned soldier.

If he set his mind to it, he could spit out the word 'heart'.

So he could laugh while watching someone get stabbed to death.

To be precise, when he saw something more interesting than getting stabbed in the heart, Frog could laugh.

"You seem to have seen something interesting."

"Well, just… a strangely interesting guy."

He wouldn't be an ally. If he had been, he would have brought him in earlier.

Frog walked briskly, saying blandly.

Frog's soles are thick. He didn't even need boots.

Sometimes, because it was too slippery, there were some who put nails in Frog's soles.

However, General Frog didn't like those who put nails in their soles.

If it is accompanied by good sense and appropriate training'slippery soles also become weapons.

'He mimicked the thrust.'

It wasn't his area of talent. Frog's eyes gauge the degree of skill the opponent has mastered.

General Frog saw the enemy soldier thrust. Thanks to this, it was possible to know.

'Countless tempering and tempering skills.'

It is closer to the skill learned by staking his life than to be said to have learned it.

The area of ​​ignorant effort rather than talent.

'A skill honed through countless repetitions.'

If luck overlaps dozens or hundreds of times, there are things that can't happen.

If you survive even after seeing thrusts countlessly in front of you, you could make such moves.

Everything else is a mess, but only the thrust was worth it.

But does this make sense?

'With that kind of skill?'

Surviving time and again on the battlefield?

Staking his life to learn means proving that he barely survived.

Clearly, it was a move that could be seen by repeatedly colliding and breaking with opponents stronger than oneself.

Does this make sense?

It doesn't.

So it piques interest.

"I hope to see him again next time."

General Frog thought such a thing would not happen.

The goddess of luck is unfair. She's biased.

She favors someone with luck.

But even that luck has its limits.

"He must have used up a lifetime's worth of luck."

There won't be another time to see it.

That doesn't mean he'll die today.

He kicked away the excitement, but somehow managed to stop it.

And seeing the two who came to protect him at the end, he didn't seem likely to die on the battlefield right now.

Still, it didn't seem like it would last long.

Rushing recklessly towards a superior opponent, even with modest talent, would improve one's skills.

Because hundreds of lives may be needed.

"General."

"Let's eat."

Frog stopped thinking about that and lost interest in the other side.

Now it's time to focus on other things.

Namely, eating.

It was time to devise a strategy.

The blonde lieutenant nodded at the general's words.

"Let's go. I'll prepare the meal."

* * *

A sailor appeared.

Encrid realized he was sitting on a boat.

'A dream?'

It seemed like he had encountered something like this before.

It was a distant memory. When was it?

'When I first woke up again.'

A sailor without a mouth.

A voice tinged with curiosity.

He recalled the vague memory.

'Back then.'

He had thought it was a daydream. What importance did meeting a sailor in a dream have?

"You've crossed over a day like a dragon?"

The sailor said.

Just like then, Encrid couldn't say a word.

It seemed that listening was the only thing allowed here.

"Having eyes but unable to see, having a mouth but unable to speak, having ears but unable to hear properly."

The sailor spoke as if singing, a mix of actual melody and rhythm.

He couldn't even blink.

Unable to move anything at will, including his senses.

It felt stifling and frustrating.

'What can I do now?'

If it's a dream, shouldn't spells come out of your hands and all that?

It's a dream, but not just a dream.

Realizing this, Encrid knew all he could do was listen.

"Can you continue to endure? Can you do that? I will continue to stand in your way."

I don't understand what he's saying.

Didn't he just say that even if he has ears, he can't hear properly?

"You still can't even hear my name."

He looked at the sailor. A vague figure appeared over the black veil.

It seemed obscured by droplets of dew, blocking his view.

It was that vague.

All black. At first, he thought there was only no mouth, but there was nothing at all.

"Right now, all you can hear is my whims and kindness."

He says and chuckles. It wasn't clear that he was laughing. He seemed to be letting the other person know that he was laughing.

'So what does he want me to do?'

"Ah, there's nothing over, and you can't get away. The 'wall' blocking your way will always be there. That will be your fate."

The word 'wall' sounded strange.

Actually, he seemed to hear something different, but it sounded like 'wall'.

What on earth is this?

"Can you survive?"

I don't know what nonsense this is.

"Of course."

Huh? Words are coming out?

There was no doubt about it.

It seemed like the other person was even more surprised.

"You…"

Whatever the sailor whispered was soon lost in a haze.

Splash.

The boat disappeared. Encrid fell into deep water.

Above the water, through the mist, a dark mass, not words but intent, conveyed:

"This won't stay in your memory. But."

Chuckle.

The sailor laughed and spoke.

"You're really an interesting one."

That was the end of it.

Losing consciousness as he sank into the deep water. Encrid descended into the abyss like that.

* * *

"Who is the hero of this battlefield?"

"Cyprus!"

"Who is the master of this battlefield?"

"Cyprus!"

"Who charges towards tomorrow?"

"Cyprus!"

"Who passes judgment?"

It was a song. A cheerful melody, a deep voice, perfectly timed rhythm.

"A military anthem?"

No, it wasn't a military anthem.

Since joining this unit, I had learned a few military anthems, but nothing like this.

What I learned here was more like a rhythmic chant than a military anthem.

"We will prevail!"

Under the protection of the unyielding sun!

Embraced by the power of the divine!

Well, that kind of thing. No melody, just shouts thrown out with vigor and force.

But now there was melody and rhythm alive in it.

It was a familiar song to the ear.

"A bard's song."

Not all bard songs are the same.

Among them, there are those who enlist in the military to boost morale on one side.

It might be the case even now.

Where would a bard want to create and sing praise for someone like Cyprus?

Moreover, that young one probably hasn't even seen a knight named Cyprus.

"Are you alive?"

Turning towards the voice, Rem appeared.

His side was twitching like mad.

As he reached out to touch, Rem grabbed his hand.

"You didn't break anything too narrowly, so don't worry. But your head sure got a good shake. How many fingers is this?"

Rem held up and folded a few fingers, shaking them.

"Go eat shit."

Encrid tried to accept the current situation.

'Today' was over.

Just facing that situation made his mind fierce.

It was difficult to accept Rem's banter.

"See, you seem out of it. I'm Rem, forever buddy of the squad leader."

"You crazy bastard."

"Forget me? That's too harsh."

Encrid closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them.

Today has passed.

So, a day had gone by.

His mind was scattered. The dream was too chaotic.

'Didn't he say I wouldn't remember?'

But it remained vivid.

Dark water, a boat, a sailor with no eyes, nose, or mouth.

I remembered everything he said.

It felt a bit blurry, like something from a distant past.

But my memory has always been good since I was young.

Encrid remembered it all.

"I haven't forgotten. Noble hunter."

He recalled the nickname Rem once had.

"Shh, that's supposed to be a secret."

Finally, Rem's banter ceased. He stared at him, likely wondering why he brought up that topic.

Encrid gathered his thoughts.

First things first.

"What happened to me?"

Finally, he could hear the full story.

The fallen soldier, the unexpectedly increased skill, and Frog.

"Did a Frog interfere?"

Despite years of being a mercenary, this was the first time he had seen Frog in person.

Of course, also the first time he had been hit by Frog.

It was fortunate that his ribs weren't completely shattered.

If you encounter Frog as an enemy on the battlefield?

"Run."

"Hide."

"Die."

Three seasoned mercenaries offered different answers.

Yet the conclusion was the same.

If you can't run or hide, you'll die.

Frog was that dangerous and formidable.

That's how it is with warrior races.

Giants, dragons, even fairies.

Any race inherently possessed superior abilities compared to humans.

But it's humans who most often rise to knight-level prowess.

That's likely why humans are the dominant force on this continent.

"After that, I literally had to 'personally' carry you out of the battlefield. It was truly a treacherous path. I almost died."

If it had been genuinely dangerous, he wouldn't have been able to speak like this.

"I owe you."

"If you knew that, you could just do the dishwashing duty about ten times."

This guy, seriously.

Encrid sighed inwardly but nodded his head.

He had said to leave once he finished speaking, but Rem didn't get up easily as usual.

His usual smiling face.

"You practiced alone? When I wasn't looking?"

What kind of nonsense was this?

"Your heart was ripened?"

Huh?

"I taught you, didn't I know?"

"Oh!"

Encrid realized that Rem had been watching him.

Well, since he was watching, he could help in times of trouble.

"By accident. After surviving several close calls, I figured out what it was."

Already a plausible excuse dozens of times.

Among them, it was the most plausible thing to say.

It was a true truth without lies.

Just a little reduced.

Without going through several close calls, he couldn't really die.

"Well done."

Rem finally brushed himself off and got up.

"Rest well. Your body needs to recover for what's next."

Encrid finally looked around. It was a medical tent.

Where the injured gathered.

Shall I get up?

When he tried to get up, a soldier sitting on one side said with blurry eyes.

"You shouldn't move yet. It will make things worse. My head shook a lot."

He seemed to have visited a military official from a private soldier.

Just a private soldier, if he's hurt, it's a relief if there's a guy who knows some herbs among his colleagues.

If not, it's a usual thing to just die.

'How did I get here, even in a medical tent?'

It was okay to find out later.

More than that.

'Today's gone.'

It's important that a new day has started.

Looking toward the entrance of the tent, light came in through the cracks.

It wasn't sunlight.

The light of a flickering torch, along with the shadows that moved with it.

The minstrel's song continued.

"Who is the hero?"

"Cyprus!"

The sound of soldiers shouting through the rear window.

He survived today and lived the next day.

However, he seemed to have spent the entire morning and afternoon unconscious, waking up only in the evening.

"Did I pass the day?"

He asked the medic who was waiting.

"It's been a day, it's the second day."

The shock was immense.

Encrid closed his eyes, thinking nonetheless that getting through today was what mattered.

He defeated the jabbing soldier.

He surpassed him with skill.

Afterward, Encrid thought about the sailor.

He recalled and pondered over what he had said.

There was no choice.

He had said it would repeat.

Therefore,

"If I die, today repeats."

As if suggesting to endure some punishment.

However,

"Why would that be a punishment?"

To Encrid, it was not a punishment but a trial.

[T/L: Please support me here: /revengerscans ]