A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

"It would be best if you could decide the outcome of a war before it even begins."

That was something Abnaier once said. The Beastman general had agreed with that statement.

And with four knights and one Frokk, he considered victory to be half-certain even before the fighting began.

If not?

Then just win through battle.

Abnaier wouldn't take the field himself, but he would relay his opinion from behind the scenes. All the Beastman general had to do was pretend to be a commander blessed with both strength and intellect, destroy the Border Guard, and secure Greenperl.

While he was at it, he'd also kill the one Abnaier had failed to finish off, and wipe out the ones said to be accompanying him.

"Four knights."

How were they going to stop that?

This was the reason Azpen had decided to wage war. Whether by luck or effort, they had managed to raise two more knights.

And Abnaier, saved thanks to the Wolf Beastman general, had come to that conclusion.

In the end, they couldn't win with strategy and cunning alone, so they would crush the enemy with brute force.

He didn't think they would lose. Their power was sufficient.

However, Abnaier had a long-standing habit—almost an obsession—of never doing anything half-heartedly.

That's why he drew up a strategy, and the Supreme Commander was a good-natured man who actually listened to him.

"We'll shout loud enough to stir up the entire continent. Boldly, right up front."

"Wouldn't that lead to excessive troop losses?"

Hadn't they borrowed supplies from all over for this operation?

War supplies didn't just spring from the ground, and they'd even lost Greenperl in a previous defeat.

It wasn't exactly a time when the kingdom was thriving. The Beastman general had an eye for war.

War depended more on supply lines and marching than on combat itself. Preparing for those things required an enormous amount of krona. A ridiculous amount.

And now, with the kingdom's coffers nearly drained, could they afford to lose even more troops?

"Yes, that's why we'll only shout."

"Only shout?"

"We grab their attention with noise, and send in a select few elite troops."

Abnaier pointed his finger on the strategy map and drew a line. A path no ordinary person could cross—but what about a knight?

It was a route cutting across the Pen-Hanil Mountain Range.

As if that wasn't enough, the enemy had even been kind enough to clear out the monsters of the Pen-Hanil Mountains.

"And once they're in?"

"They strike the head, separately from Greenperl's standing garrison. It's a city takeover."

It wasn't war—it was ending a war with a single battle.

Abnaier had laid out a method to fully utilize the strength they already possessed.

The Wolf Beastman didn't fuss about honor. Though he barked orders at the human knight who had once been his student, he believed there was no problem so long as his heart was clear.

If your conscience is troubled, that's when it becomes a problem. If you act boldly, then it's fine.

The Wolf Beastman saw no issue in crossing the Pen-Hanil Mountains.

Attacking the enemy's leadership after traversing a treacherous path wasn't cowardice—it was wisdom.

Once they reached the front gate, all they had to do was boldly declare the start of occupation.

Then there would be no damage to their honor. It would simply mean the enemy had been foolish enough to fall for it.

Self-justification complete.

"Good."

The Beastman nodded.

"As an excuse, I hear something happened recently that might work in our favor. Two junior knights were killed."

There had been casualties within Azpen's Royal Knights.

It happened while scouting a possible path of entry through the mountain range.

They weren't the type to fall to mere monsters or beasts, so he had trusted them, but some swordsman had cut them both down.

A bastard who didn't even bother to erase his tracks.

A few rangers pursued him, but all that accomplished was the loss of an entire ranger squad.

A terrifying swordsman.

In the end, the swordsman escaped to the other side of Greenperl—Naurillia—which made it the perfect excuse.

"We'll just accuse them of sending an assassin first."

Abnaier already had the entire script, from beginning to end, finished in his mind.

Even if Naurillia sent a knight squad to help, they wouldn't be able to stop them.

Once they secured Greenperl, Abnaier would reclaim his position.

Then he would wage war again, with the returning Wolf Beastman general leading the charge.

And if they struck Naurillia's capital using the same tactic?

'The Red Cloak Knights of Naurillia will move, then.'

That would result in significant losses. They didn't possess such overwhelming force, so it would be best not to take it that far.

But if they had time...

It wasn't as if knights just appeared from training soldiers, but the Wolf Beastman general had already trained four of them.

At one point, Azpen had pursued a policy of racial integration. The greatest product of that policy was the Wolf Beastman general.

He had been Azpen's sharpest blade of loyalty—and now he was proving himself as a teacher as well.

He had once lost interest in battle while guarding the border and stepped back. But now he had returned.

The blade that had returned—Barnas Hurrier.

A Beastman who had become a member of House Hurrier.

With that blade by his side, they could accomplish anything.

Four knights. Who could possibly stand against such power?

Abnaier didn't let his guard down, but he truly believed it.

Even if another nation had a similar level of force, none of them could concentrate it the way they could.

By the time Naurillia figured out what was happening, Greenperl would already be lost.

'We'll make good use of the fortress and city you built.'

And we'll certainly take advantage of your recent monster-clearing efforts in the Pen-Hanil Mountains.

This isn't revenge. But that doesn't mean I don't want to give you a good punch in the gut.

***

Kraiss's routine was simple.

In the morning, he trained his body.

Then came meals, light duties, and reading time.

When he had no assigned tasks, getting hold of books to read was one of Kraiss's hobbies.

He was a reader who didn't discriminate—history, philosophy, novels, he read them all.

On the surface, he didn't look busy. And that was true. Physically, Kraiss was free.

But mentally, he was always working.

Kraiss's primary job was thinking—deducing, predicting, pondering.

This was one such line of thought.

'If I were Azpen...'

That was the question he'd been mulling over lately. Possibly the one he considered most important these days.

He had reported it to Enkrid, but from this point on, it was all in the realm of speculation.

Azpen picks a fight again. Why?

'Because they want to take Greenperl.'

The answer was obvious.

The wind blew, tousling Kraiss's hair.

He didn't even think to brush it aside.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

He just sat there, and Nurat came in with a cup of tea.

The office window was open, but he didn't close it.

It was a good day for wind.

Kraiss took a sip.

The hot liquid traveled down his throat and warmed his stomach.

'Feels like I'm a bit full now.'

Was it that he had eaten too much?

Or was it that swallowing Greenperl had been too much?

The truth was, it hadn't even ended with swallowing it.

If Azpen saw it, he'd probably grab the back of his neck and shout, "These bastards?"

Greenperl, caught between Naurillia and Azpen, was both a cause of war and a border. But to begin with, that border was always a bit vague.

It was because the two nations had fought for so long over the Greenperl plains.

Neither side had claimed it, and it had simply been left as a buffer zone—making the "border" absurdly wide for a national boundary.

Kraiss had taken advantage of that, feigning ignorance and gradually pushing the line.

Oh? This is Azpen territory? Since when? Wasn't it just unclaimed land?

We ate Greenperl, so this is ours too. Don't like it? What are you going to do about it?

That's what it amounted to.

No wonder Azpen was pissed off, and no wonder the Border Guard was getting complacent.

"An enemy we were bound to fight anyway."

Whether Naurillia started it or Azpen did, war was inevitable.

Still, Kraiss wasn't perfect—some of his assumptions had been off.

For starters, he hadn't expected Azpen to strike first.

But seeing how things were unfolding now, it was all but confirmed that they were making the first move.

And naturally, a few assumptions came to mind.

"If it were me..."

He wouldn't fight a losing battle.

Which meant Azpen wouldn't start a losing fight either.

With that conclusion, three assumptions followed.

Assumption one: they had hidden reserve forces.

Assumption two: those forces were knights.

Assumption three: they had done something to prevent Naurillia's knights from moving.

There was no proof, but it was the kind of assumption he felt certain about.

"Couldn't the king just mobilize the knights and sweep Azpen away?"

Kraiss grumbled internally, but he knew it wasn't realistic.

Each of the Red Cloak Knights had an area they were responsible for.

If the knight protecting the southern empire pulled out?

Azpen wouldn't be the problem anymore.

The Demon Realm along the kingdom's border would be an issue too.

Well, part of the reason the city called Border Guard even existed was to stop Azpen.

And they had Enkrid, famed as the Demon Slayer.

A name that big meant constantly having to prove yourself.

If the Border Guard had no talent or strength, then of course other forces would've been deployed.

Because if the line between them and Azpen collapsed, it wouldn't just be about losing Greenperl.

If Azpen destroyed the Border Guard and won, what would they do next?

"If it were me, I'd push in even deeper."

So they couldn't let that happen. But Enkrid was here. The Demon Slayer. The King's sworn friend.

For many reasons, if Azpen attacked, the Border Guard had to stop them.

Of course, Enkrid had already been informed.

After Kraiss had laid out all his assumptions, the commander had given a response that stuck with him.

"War?"

That one word in reply.

"Yes," Kraiss answered.

"If they charge, we fight."

At that moment, watching Enkrid respond, something stirred in Kraiss.

"A knight, huh."

Kraiss had also seen Rem challenge Enkrid to a spar.

He hadn't been able to tell anything with his own eyes, but he'd heard it clearly.

Rem called him a knight.

Kraiss spent most of his days guessing, predicting, imagining ominous outcomes. But there were also moments of pure speculation.

Among those, naturally, were thoughts about his commander.

"What if the commander becomes a knight?"

That kind of fantasy.

Whether strength or power, people changed once they had it.

Would the commander change too?

No way.

He had been the same ever since he'd blocked Kraiss's path with skills no better than his own.

He always looked toward where he needed to go.

Even now, when he said "We fight," those blue eyes glowed with a calm light.

What was he seeing?

With power now in his hands, and the talk of war—didn't he want to go wild?

Kraiss didn't understand the concept of omnipotence, but he understood people.

When someone gained power, they usually wanted to use it.

But Enkrid was still Enkrid.

The same as ever. Nothing had changed. What he was looking at was something Kraiss couldn't see.

He said he'd protect people, but to be honest, Kraiss didn't even know what exactly he meant by that.

It's not that he didn't understand the words "save people."

He just didn't understand why he wanted to do it.

"Is there a krona payoff?"

Or was there some other benefit?

Was he trying to use people's praise for something?

Not at all. He just did what his heart told him to. And that—Kraiss simply couldn't wrap his head around it.

Though, honestly, he didn't really need to understand.

Kraiss had chosen to follow the man who had once stood in his way, and he was still following him.

Fwooosh.

The wind blew again, tousling Kraiss's hair. He brushed it away from his eyes.

Thanks to Enkrid's final words, he was now holed up in his office, organizing his thoughts.

"Gauge the timing and lay out the board. Where to fight, how to fight."

That meant taking charge of the strategy and everything else.

It was a short sentence, but he understood it perfectly.

"...Me?"

"Then who else?"

Enkrid said that and casually glanced to one side.

Over there were those brimming with talent—at least when it came to combat. The Mad ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) Platoon.

Rem, Jaxon, Ragna, Audin.

Add Teresa, Lua Gharne, Rophod, and Pell, and—

Wasn't that a force stronger than most knight orders?

But still, they couldn't be trusted with a war.

Enkrid understood that well.

Tactical thinking and war planning were completely different things.

Assembling the pieces of war—that wasn't Enkrid's specialty.

"I just said something that's starting to annoy me. Guess I'll handle it. Eyeballs, you're out."

Rem rested a battle axe on her shoulder and spoke.

That half-laugh, half-scowl fit her usual self.

If you asked about logistics, she'd probably say they could just steal from the enemy.

"War? Just go out there and cut them down. Better I do it than leave it to savages."

Ragna joined in.

The guy was lucky if he didn't get lost leading a unit.

Even if he didn't, the moment he saw the enemy's banner, he'd charge.

It wouldn't just be blood spilled—it would flood the ground.

Both armies would suffer severe losses. It would be a string of battles with no true victor.

Still, if Ragna led the charge, maybe they'd win.

That brute of a swordsman would just cut down everything in his path.

More importantly, the enemy would never be able to predict Ragna's movements.

He had gone out for a "walk" and came back after killing two of Azpen's junior knights and an entire ranger squad.

Azpen had used that as an excuse for war.

But even if that hadn't happened, they would've found another excuse, so there was no point blaming Ragna.

"Just do it."

Enkrid looked at Kraiss again, his eyes serious.

"Yes."

Kraiss nodded.

He didn't have any complaints. No objections either.

If Enkrid were absent and told him to take full responsibility, Kraiss wouldn't even be able to use half his capabilities.

But that wouldn't happen.

"If that happens, I'm out."

Enkrid made the decisions. That eased all anxiety.

Thanks to that, Kraiss could perform at full capacity.

The ominous feeling crept up, and he began to paint out every possible future.

It used to be overwhelming. But now, he had a sword to draw from it.

"Four knights."

Ragna, Rem, Shinar, Enkrid.

Jaxon was also knight-level, but Kraiss didn't know that much.

"What if those four are tied down?"

When Abnaier boasted that no one could stop their four knights, Kraiss imagined a scenario where even their own four couldn't stop them.

A talent he had since birth—imagining ominous futures and, based on that, drawing the paths ahead.

That was the difference between Kraiss and Abnaier.

And where once he would've stopped at imagining the worst-case scenario, now his mind searched for answers.

"Then what's the way to prevent them from being tied down?"

Experience made people grow.

Just as Enkrid moved forward, Kraiss was no longer the same.

His perspective had broadened.

His thoughts had deepened.

He knew more.

Countless possibilities rose and vanished in his mind, forming a picture.

He was crafting the board of war.

The war wouldn't start tomorrow. But it would start soon.

And within his mind, all the means and methods to respond danced like wildfire.

Nurat looked into Kraiss's eyes and had a thought.

People always talked about how the commander's eyes shone, but right now, it was Kraiss's eyes that sparkled.

"Is it fun?"

Nurat asked silently.

No answer was needed.

Kraiss's eyes, gleaming like stars, were already the answer.