Eternally Regressing Knight - Chapter 13: Reflection

After being unconscious for two straight days, Encrid slept for another half a day.

When he woke up, he saw bread and soup placed in front of him.

A long shadow passed over the bread and soup and then disappeared.

He turned his gaze to the half-open tent entrance. It seemed to be dawn.

There was no sound of people moving around, and there were only a few torches set up near the tent entrance, providing even less light than before.

Everyone inside the tent was still asleep.

Encrid reached for the bread.

‘My arm moves without any trouble.’

Taking the opportunity, he tried to twist his body and sit up.

Zing.

Pain surged from his side, spreading to the back of his head.

‘Still, it’s manageable.’

Rem had said it wasn’t broken.

His own assessment agreed.

Although he had been told he fainted from his head shaking, fortunately, it seemed there was no lasting damage to his head.

He wasn’t dizzy, and his eyes, nose, and ears were all functioning fine.

Phew.

He tore a piece of bread and dipped it in the cold soup before putting it in his mouth.

‘My tongue’s fine too.’

He must have been quite hungry, as even this tasted good.

The subtle sweetness of the flour bread was satisfying. The soup, while just a bit more flavorful than plain water, was enough to fill his empty stomach.

Encrid chewed each bite thoroughly and swallowed slowly, savoring the simple meal as if it were a gourmet dish.

‘If you eat too quickly after fainting, it’ll upset your stomach.’

This was something he knew from experience.

Normally, a soldier guarding the medical tent would have told him this.

The soldier he saw in the evening seemed too lethargic to care.

A soldier guarding the medical tent—what kind of position was that, anyway?

‘He must have connections.’

Otherwise, why would a perfectly healthy soldier be tasked with watching over the wounded?

After filling his stomach, Encrid forced himself to sit up.

Lying down immediately after eating hinders digestion.

When injured, one must eat well and rest well.

Proper digestion was part of eating well.

“Phew.”

Encrid let out a small sigh and stared blankly at the flickering light from the tent entrance.

His eyes watched the swaying torches, but his mind was elsewhere.

Reflecting on the repeated day, today, the day he finally overcame.

Encrid replayed that “today” over and over in his mind.

He relived the moment even in his dreams.

The thrust itself was excellent. Even he thought it was a perfectly executed strike.

‘Getting the fight to that point wasn’t bad either.’

The Valen-style mercenary swordsmanship had helped a lot.

He had also trained through countless repetitions of today.

But he couldn’t say he did everything perfectly.

‘It was sloppy.’

That was the conclusion after countless reflections.

Someone passed by the tent.

Whoosh.

The shadow of the soldier walking past the torch stretched long.

In his imagination, the elongated shadow became the thrusting maniac.

‘When I thrust.’

What if the opponent had dodged?

The shadow dodged the thrust. Then, it spun its sword and slashed.

The blade easily sliced through the neck of the shadow playing Encrid’s role.

‘Then it would be me who died.’

Was I fully prepared? Hardly.

‘I was lacking.’

If the opponent had been a bit smarter, had known how to fight a bit better.

If he had just a little more experience.

If he had survived just until the next battlefield.

‘No, that’s going too far.’

This was an exaggeration.

Thinking like this could go on endlessly.

The shadow fighting with a sword was a product of imagination. When he shook off the thought, it disappeared.

Encrid stopped worrying about what had already happened.

‘Instead of thinking about what if, let’s think about the next step.’

Rem had said one must thrust with all their strength.

But it wasn’t possible to put everything into every attack.

So, he thought.

Show the thrust once.

Before that, keep provoking the opponent.

When the provoked opponent attempts a thrust, counter it.

‘I bet everything on that one thrust.’

A thrust that, if it failed, meant death.

Was that really the right approach?

He knew he shouldn’t lead the fight like that. Encrid understood that.

What if the thrust didn’t work and he faced a new today?

‘Should I have relied on luck if the thrust failed?’

No, that was unacceptable.

It had to be skill, not luck.

Encrid believed that was the best way to make the most of his opportunity.

He wasn’t plagued by self-doubt through this contemplation.

He was simply recalling facts and separating what he did well from what he didn’t.

Just as he always did after a battle or sparring session.

“If you fought to the point of betting half your life and survived, that fight will become your asset, Enki.”

The old swordsman had been a teacher in a quiet coastal town, instructing children in swordsmanship.

His skill level wasn’t even noteworthy enough to be known in a small commercial city, let alone a large one.

But his teaching wasn’t bad.

At least for Encrid, he was an excellent teacher.

“If you plan to eat sword meals until you die, digest and analyze everything you gained from a fight after it ends. That’s your way to survive.”

The old teacher must have gained his wisdom through personal experience.

He limped on his left foot.

His body was covered in scars.

Those were hard-earned lessons.

That teacher charged a hefty tuition fee.

But it was worth it.

It had been a valuable time.

Now was the time to recall what he had learned from him.

‘There must be another way.’

He couldn’t thrust with all his strength every time.

That would lead to his own death.

Rem wouldn’t fight like that either.

But when sparring with that crazy Rem, each of his axe swings felt heavy and full of lethal intent.

‘How can he do that?’

The joy of successfully thrusting was fleeting.

Encrid didn’t get carried away by his sense of achievement.

No, he was happy.

He was satisfied with surpassing a barrier through his own effort.

But he didn’t stop there.

Naturally, Encrid envisioned tomorrow.

After successfully thrusting.

Tomorrow, which he couldn’t see before succeeding, became visible.

He was reaching out and walking towards that tomorrow’s sun.

‘Thrust with all my strength but without putting my whole heart into it?’

He was getting closer to the answer.

There was only so much one could figure out by thinking alone.

But that was okay.

This wasn’t all the time Encrid had.

The faceless ferryman had said so.

This wasn’t the end.

Walls would keep appearing.

‘He said it would repeat, didn’t he?’

Then all he had to do was risk his life and challenge it again.

Knowing that another moment like that would come made his heart race.

A strange heat that started from his lower abdomen spread through his body.

Encrid ignored that heat.

Now wasn’t the time to push his body.

‘First, I need to rest.’

Even without a doctor’s diagnosis, his aching side clearly needed several days of rest.

‘But how did I end up here?’

When a soldier is injured, what usually happens?

Regardless of the severity, they either get treated at their assigned barracks and die there.

‘If they have good connections, they might get treated by a doctor nearby.’

Or if the goddess of fortune had poured coins on them, they might receive a priest’s prayer.

Divine healing was only possible with a mix of luck and connections.

Of course, it was a different story for high-ranking commanders.

But Encrid was none of those.

So, someone must have intervened to get him here.

‘I don’t know.’

Seeing as he was already starting to burp, it seemed his digestion was complete.

Encrid lay down and slept.

He slept deeply.

Eating well and sleeping well was the best remedy when injured.

When he opened his eyes the next day.

He saw big, round eyes.

“Get your face out of here.”

He pushed Big Eyes’s face with his hand, and Big Eyes retreated before Encrid’s hand could touch him.

“You were sleeping so soundly, I hesitated to wake you. Perfect timing.”

“Sure.”

As if it wasn’t enough, he was lucky Big Eyes didn’t kick him awake.

“Who do you think put you here?”

Big Eyes straightened his shoulders.

So it was him.

Come to think of it, there was no one else among the squad members who had such skills.

“I spent some of my funds for this. You owe me. Don’t forget.”

He never asked to be placed here.

Still, it was good to be here.

The medical tent had better meals than the regular barracks, it was in the rear, and he didn’t have to do anything.

He was exempt from all duties.

If he hadn’t been here, he would have been limping around the squad, managing them even with his aching side.

‘But can the squad function well without me?’

It was a useless worry.

What could the weakest member of the 444 Squad worry about?

‘Oh, wait. The weakest member is him.’

Big Eyes was terrible at fighting.

But that didn’t mean he lacked talent.

Somehow, whenever a battle broke out, he managed to get himself assigned to the rear under the pretext of being in a special unit.

He was resourceful.

This time, Encrid benefited from his resourcefulness.

“Should I bow my head in gratitude?”

“No need for grand gestures. Just don’t forget.”

‘Why does it matter if I remember?’

“Got it.”

“Good. Now, I’m busy, so I’ll be off.”

He was honored that Big Eyes came to visit amidst his busy schedule.

Rem wasn’t the only one who visited.

Jaxson stopped by, saying he was just passing by, and tossed him a small container.

“Apply this to your side once a day. It’ll help with the pain. Don’t mention where you got it.”

“Especially not to our squad members, right?”

Jaxson shrugged and left.

Encrid opened the small container, about two finger joints in size, to find dark green ointment inside.

‘Is this made from crushed herbs?’

If it was made for him, it was quite thoughtful.

Of course, that wasn’t the case.

He had seen this item a few times before.

It was his first time using it, though.

Using his fingertip, he scooped out some ointment and slipped his hand inside his clothes, spreading it on his side.

Every movement sent a sharp pain through him.

But as the ointment spread, the pain eased considerably.

‘This is good.’

Encrid thought about using it sparingly, carefully closing the container and placing it under his bed.

‘Was the medical tent always this close to our barracks? It doesn’t seem like a place you’d pass by.’

Whatever. As long as the ointment worked, it didn’t matter.

Two other squad members also visited.

“Sorry, Squad Leader. There’s nothing I can do to help.”

One member spoke as if they could have helped but didn’t.

“The squad is a mess without you. Here, take this.”

Another threw him half an apple they had been eating.

The last one definitely just stopped by while passing.

This guy often got lost.

Encrid even heard him say, ‘Our squad leader is here? Why?’ in front of the medical tent.

‘This guy didn’t even know I was injured.’

Raising squad members is pointless.

‘Not that I raised them.’

Except for Encrid, everyone else fought well and escaped well on their own.

‘I should worry about myself.’

How chaotic could the squad get without one person?

They’d manage on their own.

It was better to set aside useless worries.

What mattered more was.

“You bastard.”

This was more concerning.

The new guest who entered the tent while Encrid was resting alone.

The guy who joined the tent at noon.

The medical tent was large. If they crammed in, it could fit more than ten people.

But there were only three patients in this large tent.

Encrid with his aching side.

A platoon leader who joined today and kept staring at him.

And the blonde lying in the corner, staring at the ceiling and wiggling his fingers.

The one who spoke to Encrid was the platoon leader.

“A soldier with the lowest skill level, and a mercenary at that, is a squad leader? Do you take turns servicing your squad members? How did you become a squad leader?”

This was more problematic.

This platoon leader was someone he had seen before.

A neighboring platoon leader who seemed desperate to eat him alive.

His name was Benzence.

Whoever named him did a good job.

Why does Benzence hate him? No idea.

He had been growling at him since they first met.

“And now you’re in the medical tent. Lucky bastard.”

‘Yeah, I think so too.’

I am lucky.

It would have been perfect if it weren’t for Platoon Leader Benzence next to him.

“Yes, nice to meet you, Platoon Leader.”

“Nice to meet you?”

Should I say it’s shitty?

Encrid was an adult.

He knew how to wear a mask.

“Yes, a little.”

“A little?”

“I’m not exactly thrilled.”

“You bastard.”

Benzence was furious but didn’t attack.

He couldn’t, to be precise.

He had been deeply cut in the thigh in the previous battle.

He could barely stand up.

So.

‘Isn’t this the perfect time to mock him?’

Encrid was an adult. He knew how to wear a mask.

And he knew how to mock someone he disliked.