Eternally Regressing Knight
Chapter 32 - 32 - Dreams, Reprimands, Responsibilities
Chapter 32 - Dreams, Reprimands, Responsibilities
"How's the flag?"
"It's fine."
The captain of the Aspen Duchy didn't like the operation currently underway.
But what could a mere commander do when orders came from above?
If they said do it, then he had to do it.
And so, he was doing it, though a small problem had arisen in the process.
A few rats from Naurilia had infiltrated the barracks and set fires.
Even though more than half of his troops were stationed in the tall grass, the invasion had been allowed.
No matter how much he disliked it, the operation had already begun.
At this point, his pride was on the line.
Failure was something he couldn't afford.
"You should have been more thorough with the defenses."
The owner of the flag spoke.
His words made the captain's forehead vein throb.
It was annoying to hear someone who would drop dead in an instant if he pulled his sword and struck at his throat.
But what could he do?
There had indeed been a hole in his unit's defenses.
"True."
Flap!
The captain said that, then stormed out of the barracks, swiping the door with his hand.
He couldn't understand this situation.
'Does this even make sense?'
Was it possible for the enemy to notice this place?
Fine, let's say they could.
But what about next?
Did they really sneak past his troops lying in the tall grass, fewer than ten in number, and attack the main flag?
The captain trusted his unit.
Of course, he did.
His nickname was the Demon Captain because of how harshly he trained his men.
He believed that if you didn't cough up blood during training, you'd cough up blood and die on the battlefield.
And this was the unit he had built.
'Can they really break through this?'
While soldiers could lose a battle, there were no soldiers who failed at keeping watch.
The captain truly believed that.
But would he reprimand his own troops?
He couldn't just do that.
Whoever planned and executed this had to be extraordinary.
The courage to infiltrate enemy lines with so few soldiers.
The skill to fight and survive against his own platoon leader.
And the perfect execution of setting fires and retreating.
Even though the squad leader had to let them go due to the fire spreading behind.
'Luck is also skill.'
The captain, who had spent a long time on the battlefield, knew the importance of luck.
He spoke to his waiting adjutant.
"Except for the squad leader on duty, bring all the commanders here."
"Yes, sir."
His unit was part of the regiment but had its own command authority.
It was an independent unit.
And in most cases, independent units had nicknames.
This unit's name was "Gray Hounds."
In the Aspen Duchy, the Gray Hound was a dog with gray fur, known for its persistent personality.
The Gray Hound, once it marked a target, had to stick with it, whether it was for love or a fight.
Because of this, the Gray Hound unit was also called the "Persistent Lovers."
Now, the leader of this unit had marked an unnamed enemy scout leader.
"I will definitely hunt them down."
The Gray Hounds had locked onto its target.
The captain repeated his resolve in his heart.
He would catch and kill them.
Above his head, in the tent, clouds began to form, likely due to the sorcery of the shaman present.
It looked like it was going to rain.
Recently, the rains had mostly been the work of the shaman inside the tent.
And this shaman was the key to this strategy.
Though he still didn't like it, there was no denying it was an efficient operation.
If this plan were nonsense, the commander of the independent unit, the Gray Hound, or the "Persistent Lovers," would never have participated in it.
A battlefield where victory was guaranteed.
Despite the thirst for vengeance, it did feel somewhat uninteresting.
"You're telling me that after accidentally discovering the enemy's ambush, you just happened to stumble upon the enemy's main camp and while you were at it, set their camp on fire?"
It did sound strange when put that way.
Enkrid didn't nod but added a few words.
"Yes, I thought it was the right decision at the time, and it happened to turn out that way."
The scout squad leader blinked in confusion.
What was he even saying?
The guy was about his age but had somehow managed to become a squad leader.
His skills were poor, and he swung his sword at every opportunity—he was an idiot.
That was the general outside opinion of the troublemaker squad leader.
But now, hearing what he had done... well.
It was shocking even to Enkrid himself.
The surviving squad members had more to say, and it was even more ridiculous.
"Rumors aren't trustworthy. If possible, I'd like to learn more from you."
Back then, Andrew had seemed arrogant, and the scout leader had worried about sending him off.
Now, after the guy had forcibly taken command of the scouting unit, saying it was only natural.
He even said he wanted to learn more.
Was this the same Andrew he knew?
"As far as skills go, I think he's above average for a mid-level soldier."
Next came Mac, Andrew's mentor.
The scout leader knew Mac's abilities.
It was partly because he trusted Mac's skills that he had given Andrew the command of the scout unit.
And now, Mac was giving him credit.
For skill.
"He knows a lot. I just told him what to do, and this is what happened."
Lastly, came Enri, a plains hunter.
The squad members all agreed.
They followed him, believing in him.
They wouldn't all lie about it.
So this really happened.
Enkrid had taken over the scouting unit, snuck past enemy soldiers lying in wait in the tall grass with fewer than ten men and set the enemy's camp on fire before returning alive.
'Does this even make sense?'
It didn't, but they had set the fire and gathered intel, so what could he say?
Sorting through everything he had heard left him flustered.
He was told he stood still among the enemy and managed to avoid detection.
He moved through the enemy camp in the dark without anyone spotting him.
"Well, I guess he was just really lucky."
In the end, the scout leader could only say that.
Enkrid thought that was a fair assessment.
Thanks to repeating today, he couldn't say he had memorized the enemy's movements and camp positions.
"Yes, luck was on my side."
If it was luck, it was certainly no ordinary luck.
The goddess of fortune had not just kissed him but had slept with him.
But there was really no other explanation, either.
Since it wasn't something to hide, rumors began to spread through the scout unit.
The troublemaker squad leader Enkrid was a lucky man, the man the goddess of fortune had entrusted her coin to, pure luck itself.
Or, they said, he had used up all his luck in this scouting mission.
There was nothing else to report on the return trip.
During their half-day walk, the only thing that happened was a light drizzle.
The rain fell from a clear sky.
It was rare, but it wasn't an unheard-of sight.
Throughout the return journey, Enkrid was absorbed in one thought.
"Was that the best option?"
It was a question he asked himself.
If he could repeat "today" a few more times, would it have led to a different result?
Regret always lingers in every situation.
Enkrid had learned that since he was young.
What matters is the choice, and the process of making that choice.
"I thought it was the best."
Since he could repeat today, other thoughts naturally arose.
The doubt of whether that was the best decision, and the lingering thought that there might have been other options.
"Only four."
The number of people who returned alive.
Including himself, that made five.
Half of the unit had died.
The result posed a question to Enkrid.
Was this the best outcome?
Could it have been avoided?
"Five died."
Those five were neither his family nor his friends.
They were just comrades with whom he had shared a short period.
Their presence or absence made no real difference.
They were merely his responsibility for that moment, for that today.
The long-held dream that had guided him, the conviction that had kept him steadfast until now, reprimanded him.
Was that the best he could do?
Could he not have saved more?
"What kind of knight do you want to become?"
Enkrid, as a young boy, was captivated by the title of "knight."
The boy, enchanted by the songs of minstrels about knights of old, had grown into an adult.
Over time, Enkrid realized he was a man of modest talent.
He had rolled through the battlefield and recognized his own limits.
Yet, he never gave up on his dream.
Even if that dream had torn and frayed like old leather.
Even if it had been shredded to pieces by the reality of life.
He never gave up.
Therefore, he could not end up merely captivated by the word "knight."
A knight is a protector, a knight is one who takes action, a knight is one who shows his will.
"What kind of knight will I be?"
Through repeating today, Enkrid was able to step beyond his limits.
In that case, he should protect something he had seen and heard, something he had learned and established through his own eyes and ears.
"What kind of knight did I want to be?"
The dream torn apart by reality, the word "conviction" reprimanded him.
Enkrid accepted that reprimand.
By doing so, he decided to move past what had already passed.
Even if repeating today could have saved five more lives, it was no longer something he could change.
That "today" was over.
To dwell on it was foolish.
"Main unit ahead."
One of the soldiers walking with him spoke.
"Phew, we made it."
Enri, who had been supported from behind, muttered.
"So, when we return, will you rush straight to the flower shop widow?"
"I can't go until this battle is over, right?"
Enkrid replied, and Enri answered with a bright smile.
The joy of having survived, of returning after breaking through such dangers, filled his heart.
The same was true for everyone else.
Especially for the former thug soldier.
He spent the whole journey thinking over and over again about what had happened during the mission.
How had he managed to survive?
He had always thought he would die living as a thug, but somehow he ended up joining the army.
And somehow, he ended up serving Andrew as his lord.
And then this reconnaissance mission.
He had learned much.
As the former gangster soldier hobbled over with his injured leg, he approached Enkrid.
It wasn't intentional, but he hadn't spoken a word the entire journey.
"If you don't repay your debts, you're no better than an animal."
That was what an older brother had told him when he took him in as a child.
That brother had long since died, but his words had become a guiding principle in his life.
Even though he had lived roughly, the gangster knew how to repay a favor.
"I apologize for my bad manners. I will repay the favor of saving my life if I get the chance."
Enkrid, who had been staring at the soldier who approached him suddenly, nodded.
Had he really saved his life?
If anything had gone wrong, it could have easily been Enkrid's last moment.
The soldier's survival was more luck than anything.
In fact, during today's repeated cycle, that soldier had died many times.
It was just that, on this day, in this moment, Lady Luck had momentarily smiled upon him.
"Do as you wish."
Enkrid answered nonchalantly, then turned around to see Andrew and Mac.
"Thanks."
Mac spoke first, his expression more friendly than usual.
Andrew's gratitude was even more noticeable.
"I hope we can meet again someday."
Enkrid had once thought he was an arrogant brat, but now his attitude had changed.
His gaze had turned respectful.
Enkrid, feeling the pain in his side, pressed his palm gently against it and said,
"If we're on the same battlefield, we'll meet again. The flower of the battlefield."
"Infantry."
The infantry's slogan became their farewell greeting.
The reconnaissance squad leader, who had been watching from the side, came over.
"You're all clear to return. Injured ones, report to the medical tent. Everyone did well. And, well, no. Forget it."
The reconnaissance squad leader had intended to discuss achievements and rewards but stopped himself.
"I'll report it first."
It wasn't something that could be easily believed.
It was too early to discuss it when even the higher-ups might doubt it.
"Then."
As the pain in his side subsided, Enkrid decided he didn't need treatment and immediately moved forward.
It was time to return.
"I hope nothing's wrong."
Though he had no time to think about it in the tall grass, as he neared the camp, he wondered if his squadmates had been behaving.
Had they gotten into a fight with someone else?
Or maybe they had been fighting among themselves?
There was bound to be some trouble.
That's why they were called the troublemakers of the unit.
Just before they reached the camp, the sound of a loud clang rang out.
The trained hearing he had gained through Jaxen kicked in.
He pinpointed the source of the noise immediately.
It was coming from the main camp.
Enkrid quickened his pace.
As he approached the camp, he saw a crowd gathered.

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