Eternally Regressing Knight
Chapter 97 - 97 - Is He Mad?
Chapter 97 - Is He Mad?
By the time they reached the campsite, it was already night.
Thanks to the moonlight, the darkness wasn't oppressive.
The gravel path gradually transitioned into a grassy field, the signs of winter's end revealing themselves in faint patches of green.
Of course, at night, the grass shimmered like a faint purple under the light.
"The moon is bright."
Enkrid glanced at the moon overhead, then stuffed the pebble he had been holding into his pants pocket.
His right arm twitched slightly.
They had walked for over half a day to get here, during which Enkrid had continuously practiced Torres' Knife technique.
The muscles in his forearm ached and felt sore.
Clenching and unclenching his fist a few times, Enkrid reassured himself that the pain would subside by tomorrow.
Having pushed his body to its limits while mastering the Isolation technique, he was now attuned to how quickly his muscles could recover.
Actually, he thought, maybe a brief rest would suffice.
"All day playing with rocks. What a weirdo," Finn muttered as they arrived.
Enkrid had felt her occasional sidelong glances during the journey.
"My hands get restless. It's a habit," he replied dismissively, surveying the campsite.
It wasn't a typical site with campfires and pitched tents.
To be precise, it looked more like a network of burrows rather than a campsite, with numerous holes dotting the area.
"Find a burrow you like, cover the entrance with a camouflage tarp, and you're set. If you want it cozy, heated leather would be nice, but we don't have enough to go around," one of the soldiers said, holding up a large tarp.
The material's muddy brown hue blended seamlessly with the ground, making the burrows nearly invisible.
Heated leather, huh?
Enkrid did have one in his backpack.
I wonder if Esther's doing okay.
She had hissed incessantly when he left, clearly displeased.
But taking her along wasn't an option, so he had no choice but to leave her behind.
"It's cold, so share a burrow with someone. You, newbie, can bunk with me," Finn said, pointing at Enkrid.
Enkrid's pack contained the heated leather, and the burrows didn't seem particularly spacious.
Two small-bodied people might manage, but Enkrid was hardly petite, even if he wasn't as broad as Audin.
It would definitely be uncomfortable, not to mention the added awkwardness of sharing a space with a woman.
If anyone finds out, it'll cause a commotion.
Judging by how fast rumors spread in the unit, it often felt like someone was spying on him, ready to spill everything.
And sure enough, Torres was already staring at him.
"I'll be fine. I've got my own arrangements," Enkrid said.
Finn looked disappointed.
"What about me? Am I supposed to sleep alone?"
Torres raised his hand to chime in.
"What, the platoon leader of the frontier defense unit came here without gear?"
At that, Torres glanced at Enkrid, then down at himself, clearly noting that he was smaller in stature.
"What is this nonsense..."
Either way, he ended up grumbling at Finn's remark.
As Finn began unpacking her things in the burrow she had claimed, Torres approached Enkrid.
"Why do I feel annoyed?"
Why ask me?
"Maybe because you're tired?"
"Is that what it is? Really? Infamous platoon leader who even charms company commanders, is that what you think?"
"Yep."
"You bastard."
Torres chuckled and walked off.
The burrow wasn't as cramped as it seemed.
Slanted into the ground, its interior was lined with cloth to prevent dampness.
Once he draped the camouflage tarp over the entrance, it felt surprisingly snug.
After fetching the heated leather from his pack and wrapping himself in it, the space became comfortably warm.
"You're well-prepared. Would you like some?"
A scout approached, offering jerky.
"No, I've got my own," Enkrid replied.
The jerky he had tasted previously had been so flavorful that he'd gone out of his way to acquire more.
'Family recipe,' the soldier said modestly, smiling.
The soldier's mother ran a small eatery, tucked behind an inn.
Known for its spiced grilled meats, the place had earned a stellar reputation.
I should stock up on more when I get back.
Enkrid made a mental note to ask Krais to procure a steady supply.
He chewed on the sweet and spicy jerky, marveling at the tender texture.
For someone utterly hopeless at cooking, such delicacies were always fascinating.
Enkrid's meager talents lay entirely in wielding a sword.
Even as a mercenary, he'd dabbled in various trades but mastered none.
His dream of knighthood had always been his sole focus.
After finishing the jerky, sleep overtook him.
This was the land of beasts and monsters, after all.
Enri's warning echoed in his mind as he dozed off.
Still, the first night passed uneventfully.
The scouts had exempted him from night watch duty for the day.
Before dawn, Enkrid awoke instinctively, stepping outside and stripping off his upper garments.
The cold air jolted him awake, invigorating his senses.
Fully alert, he began performing the Isolation technique.
Starting with exercises that involved raising his knees to his chest in rapid bursts, he transitioned into a series of other movements.
"...What are you doing?"
The last night watch, leaning against a tree between burrows, stared at him, bewildered.
"Morning training."
"Do you even know where you are?"
"The Cross Guard's front yard."
"And you're still doing this?"
No one in the scout unit recognized Enkrid, so their confusion was understandable.
As he moved on to sword practice, the rest of the unit awoke one by one, including Finn, who stared at him along with the others—everyone except Torres.
"What's wrong with him?" Finn muttered to herself.
Torres, now wearing a thick cloak instead of a blanket, approached and replied.
"That's just what he does on a regular day."
"Does he do that every day?"
Finn's mind wandered to Enkrid's physique, recalling what she'd seen just yesterday.
The memory was still vivid—his sculpted muscles, powerful legs, and the imposing presence in between.
'Well, that's not something training can improve,' she mused, brushing that thought aside as she focused on the rest of his form.
It was clear why his body looked like that.
Life in this land was brutal enough to strain anyone's body to its limits, naturally cultivating extraordinary physicality in its inhabitants.
And to stand out even among such hardened people, the only answer was to work twice as hard as everyone else—just like Enkrid did.
But knowing and doing were entirely different things.
"Will he even have the strength to fight a monster if one shows up this afternoon?"
The way he moved looked like it would cause muscle cramps any moment, so she asked with concern.
"He's sparred with me over ten times after doing that and even marched yesterday," Torres responded casually, hinting that his own stamina wasn't far behind Enkrid's.
But Finn's eyes remained glued to Enkrid.
Why?
There was something about the way he swung his sword—it felt as if he was pouring his soul into each motion.
"He's like a madman."
Her words carried no malice, only a mix of admiration and growing fondness.
Torres couldn't help but notice.
'What did he even do?'
Torres felt as though he was witnessing the magnetic charm of the platoon leader.
All Enkrid had done so far was bathe, march, sleep, wake up, and train in the morning, yet he seemed to have already captivated Finn—a seasoned scout leader in this treacherous land.
'Is this how he won over the company commander too?'
But was it truly about his physical prowess?
Or maybe it was the impression he left by the river?
Torres's thoughts were cut short.
Everyone's brief fascination with Enkrid faded as the call for breakfast came.
At dawn, Finn's scout unit avoided lighting fires.
Sustaining themselves solely on dried meat and fruit wasn't sustainable, either.
Fortunately, their camp's location offered options—a half-day east lay Cross Guard, and just a short walk northwest brought them to a small forest, their makeshift dining hall.
"You coming to eat? If we're lucky, we might catch a rabbit."
Finn's unit consisted of eight members, not a large number.
Their meals were simple, often supplemented by local hunting.
Adding Enkrid and Torres hadn't changed that routine much.
"There's a stream nearby. You can wash up there," Finn mentioned to Enkrid.
"Can I wash my clothes too?" he asked nonchalantly.
"Cleaning yourself, eating, and maintaining gear is a soldier's duty," Finn replied matter-of-factly.
Their situation was unusual, with only two reinforcements joining, both at platoon leader rank.
But Finn, being a ranger accustomed to the frontlines, didn't dwell on it.
Soon, they reached the forest.
Establishing a temporary base near the stream, they began gathering dry branches.
In the process, they encountered two beasts.
Enkrid merely observed.
The beasts, twisted versions of animals, were creatures called maws.
These deer-like maws had peeling, bluish skin and lifeless black eyes that stared at Enkrid.
Thunk, thunk, thunk!
Arrows flew from three scouts, striking the deer maw's forehead and neck.
It collapsed with a groan, its head hitting the ground.
The scouts approached, prodding it with their feet to confirm its death, then retrieved their arrows.
"Tch, it snapped," one muttered as he examined a broken arrow shaft.
'They're skilled,' Enkrid noted.
Theirs precision was no accident; these scouts had survived in a land teeming with monsters and maws.
Yet Enkrid wondered how he'd fare against them in close combat.
It wouldn't be easy—certainly not against multiple opponents.
"Do you even have hunting experience, being a high-ranked soldier and all?" one scout asked.
"A little," Enkrid replied.
He had picked up some skills from Enri and his mercenary days.
While he wasn't an expert hunter, his abilities lay elsewhere.
The thought was interrupted when one scout returned, a grim expression on his face.
"Dammit. Ghouls. Should we relocate?"
"How many?"
"I counted ten, but there might be more. I didn't stick around to check."
Ghouls weren't a common sight, but they weren't unheard of either.
Moving their camp was ideal, yet they had just set it up.
Facing ten ghouls was a daunting prospect for scouts, especially given their speed and the poisonous claws that could cripple their strength.
"Which direction?" Enkrid asked, breaking the tense silence.
His sudden question caught the scout off guard.
"The ghouls, I mean," he clarified.
Understanding dawned on Torres.
"He's asking where they are."
Enkrid's skill with a greatsword made him particularly suited for fighting monsters, something Torres had witnessed firsthand.
"These ghouls aren't your average kind," Finn warned.
"You don't need to worry," Torres reassured her.
"I'll just keep them from running," he added, positioning himself beside Enkrid.
"Don't let a single one escape," Enkrid replied, determination in his voice.
Finn exchanged glances with the other scouts.
While combat was routine for them, ten ghouls posed a serious threat.
Enkrid sniffed the air, catching the faint scent of decay.
He pinpointed their direction using his heightened senses.
Without hesitation, he launched himself forward.
"Hey, wait!" Finn shouted, but he was already moving.
The scouts followed instinctively, compelled to witness what the man who had flaunted his physique earlier could truly do.
When Enkrid faced the ghouls, Finn's eyes widened in astonishment.

Comments

Loading...