Eternally Regressing Knight - Chapter 27: Why is He a Lowest-Level Soldier?

The name of the scouting squad leader was Andrew.

His full name was Andrew Gardner.

Once a baron, he was now the sole heir of a fallen noble family.

His only wish was to restore the Gardner family during his lifetime.

“You are the hope, Andrew.”

His mother’s last words on her deathbed still echoed vividly in his mind.

She had worked as a seamstress and a maid to save money.

All that money was spent on Andrew.

From swordsmanship lessons to his clothing and food.

Although he didn’t grow up in abundance, neither could he say he lacked anything.

His mother, burdened by work, eventually fell ill and passed away.

Her wish was also singular.

“Carry on the family name and become a great person.”

He resolved to fulfill her wish.

There was only one means by which Andrew could restore his family’s honor.

These were times of war.

By fighting and proving his abilities, he could achieve his goal.

At a time when he needed training and connections, help came.

Before dying, his mother had asked for help from a man who had once been like a brother to her husband.

“You have talent.”

That man, who had called himself his father’s sworn brother, said.

Afterward, Andrew underwent rigorous training and joined the military.

Starting as a professional soldier, he quickly earned the rank of squad leader at a young age.

‘I need achievements.’

Such thoughts filled Andrew’s mind.

He had confidence in his skills.

This confidence arose after killing several soldiers in battle.

“Be careful in everything you do.”

His advisor and supporter nagged him often, nearly driving him crazy.

But Andrew didn’t dismiss those words lightly.

‘Survival is also important.’

He needed to survive to restore his family’s honor.

But he couldn’t give up on a challenging life either.

What happens to those who give up on challenges?

His father, who had lost the family’s prestige, was a good example.

Despite swinging his sword daily, Andrew’s father had no talent.

He quickly gave up on the family’s restoration.

He squandered the remaining assets, living a miserable life.

Eventually, he was stabbed to death by a gambler with whom he had a quarrel.

‘A life without a future is bleak.’

Thus, Andrew dreamed of restoring his family while also valuing his life.

However, not everything was pleasant.

One of the most annoying things was the troublemaking squad leader who caught Andrew’s eye.

Andrew was there due to his skills.

He was making constant efforts for the great task of restoring his family.

But what about that guy?

A lowest-level soldier with no skills.

He seemed like a salary thief who lucked into his position.

Was he worth living as a professional soldier?

Andrew saw traces of his father in the troublemaking squad leader.

‘He’ll likely die, content with just drawing a salary.’

He’d live pretending to train by swinging his sword.

It was laughable that a mere soldier would carry a sword and scabbard, claiming to be training.

If Andrew had known Encrid, he wouldn’t have thought this way, but he didn’t know him.

And now, from the morning, the troublemaking squad leader was staring at him.

Their eyes met.

A sense of displeasure flowed between them through their gaze. Andrew’s brows furrowed at the end of that sensation.

‘Those eyes are irritating.’

Just as he was about to speak, the troublemaking squad leader spoke first.

“Those eyes are unpleasant.”

Huh? Who’s he talking to?

Andrew’s brows furrowed deeply, his expression reflecting his mood.

One of the soldiers following Andrew stepped forward.

“What did you just say?”

The soldier with a scar on his forehead asked. This guy was said to have been a thug.

Andrew had once told him,

“Follow me. I’ll give you a better life than being a thug.”

Since then, he had become Andrew’s trusted man.

His skills were still lacking, and he hadn’t shed all his thug habits, but he was good in a fight.

That’s why Andrew brought him along.

There were three such soldiers.

They slowly rose and surrounded the troublemaking squad leader.

* * *

Encrid reached a conclusion after repeating today several times.

‘I can’t do it from the position of a squad member.’

The others needed to follow his words and move according to his commands. That was the minimum requirement.

So, what should he do?

How does a knight gain people’s trust?

Why do they inspire such enthusiasm on the battlefield?

The reason was simple.

Skill.

It was possible because they had shown their abilities.

So, what was needed to make the ten of them, including himself, move as one?

What was needed to gain their trust?

Since he couldn’t get close to them personally and build rapport in a day.

The only thing left was overwhelming force based on violence.

“Your mouth seems to be the problem. Should I carve a pretty tattoo on it?”

The thug with the scar on his forehead said, his eyes glinting. He had the face of someone who had stabbed a few people.

Why are his lines always the same?

Encrid thought as he observed the positions of the three thugs.

It was their first time, but today had already repeated several times for him.

The reason for the repetition? Only one.

The more overwhelming the violence and force, the better.

For that, experience was necessary.

Regardless of his skills, he needed to understand their reactions and patterns.

That’s why he excluded Valen-style mercenary swordsmanship.

He needed to subdue them with pure skill.

The first hurdle to overcoming today was to subdue the three thug soldiers.

“Lost your tongue?”

The thug sneered.

Encrid thought words were unnecessary.

So he acted.

Without a word, he took a step.

The thugs reacted. One flinched and raised his fist, ready to fight.

One even placed his hand on the hilt of his short sword.

Encrid lifted his left foot first, taking a very slow step.

The thugs, bewildered, watched with puzzled eyes, wondering what he was doing.

Then, Encrid’s right foot quickly struck the ground.

Mixing a slow motion with a fast one made the latter seem even faster.

It was a simple trick, an opening move for an attack.

And it was quite, no, extremely useful.

“Shit!”

The scarred thug swallowed his breath and tried to throw a punch.

But Encrid was faster, kicking the thug’s shin.

Thud!

The thug’s stance crumbled as his shin was kicked sideways. Immediately, Encrid struck the side of the thug’s temple with the back of his gloved hand.

It was a powerful swing.

Thump!

“Ugh!”

With a short cry, the thug staggered and fell sideways.

Encrid’s subsequent movements were fluid.

As he turned, the short sword of another thug slashed through the air where he had been.

As if prearranged, Encrid grabbed the wrist of the thug holding the short sword and twisted.

The key was to apply just enough force to avoid injuring him.

Twist. Snap.

He twisted the wrist and struck the thug’s chin at an angle, causing the second thug to collapse, unconscious.

He gently laid the falling thug on the ground and picked up the fallen short sword.

Without a change in his breathing, Encrid asked,

“Anyone else?”

The last remaining thug broke into a cold sweat.

It was their side that had drawn the blade first.

He wouldn’t have any complaints even if he was stabbed right now.

“What’s going on here?”

The scouting squad leader stepped forward after watching up to this point.

“I didn’t like you from the first day. You’re a rookie who can barely walk.”

Encrid turned to the scouting squad leader instead of the scared thug.

If there was no need to blush, he could overlook most things. He didn’t give much meaning to the other’s words or actions.

But if blushing was necessary?

He would say everything he wanted to say.

“If we follow the orders of someone like you, we’ll get slaughtered even on a simple scouting mission. Let’s settle it with our skills.”

Mutiny was a serious crime.

But the situation was tricky.

Encrid was originally a squad leader.

If the other had respected that, it might have been different.

He had thoroughly ignored and shown his displeasure.

No one could blame Encrid for not enduring it.

In fact, the higher-ups would probably not care which of them led the scouting squad.

When the scouting platoon leader left, didn’t he ask Encrid to look after the young squad leader?

This was the time.

It wasn’t just looking after him; it was stepping in.

“…The one who wins gets the squad leadership?”

The scouting squad leader asked, frowning.

“That works. I have no intention of being under someone weaker than me.”

Except for Krys, everyone in the troublemaking squad was a monster who fought better than Encrid.

It was just an excuse.

It would be better if the other got angry and attacked.

“Come on. You wet-behind-the-ears brat. Have you ever slept with a woman? Or is your dick still not grown?”

Andrew’s face hardened.

He hadn’t had his first experience yet.

He had devoted that time to training his body.

The other’s words felt like an insult to his efforts and everything he had done to get here.

Thud.

The squad leader drew his short sword.

“You can draw your sword too. The length of the blade won’t represent your skill.”

“Uh…”

The rough-looking soldier beside Andrew tried to stop him but then shook his head and sighed, stepping back.

He had worked as a mercenary for a long time. He had seen such situations often.

There had been discord from the beginning. It might be better to resolve it now.

It was more troublesome when emotions festered and became deeply rooted.

Besides, he knew Andrew well. He had taught Andrew swordsmanship.

Though he might seem like a hot-headed youngster at times,

Andrew knew how to wield a sword and had a straightforward nature.

More importantly, he knew right from wrong.

‘It won’t be easy.’

If things went south, he would step in.

However, there was one thing.

Seeing the troublemaking squad leader’s stance and foot placement, he didn’t seem ordinary.

His palms were calloused, hardened from constant training.

It wasn’t a mark earned in a day or two.

“Fine. I’ll do it barehanded.”

“What?”

Andrew was getting agitated. That was a flaw.

He showed his emotions too easily.

This would be something to address later.

The rough-looking soldier decided to sit back and observe.

It didn’t look like it would end quickly.

Neither seemed extraordinarily skilled, but neither looked entirely incompetent either.

Despite that, he thought Andrew might win.

Even if he was angry, his fundamentals wouldn’t falter.

Andrew had talent.

The troublemaking squad leader gestured for him to attack. Andrew charged.

And then…

Thud!

“One blow?”

What was that?

The rough-looking soldier’s eyes widened in surprise.

As Andrew charged, the troublemaking squad leader feigned a left-hand strike.

Sensing it, Andrew slashed with his short sword.

But the squad leader perfectly read the sword’s trajectory and struck its flat side with his leather-gloved left hand.

This action briefly opened Andrew’s chest.

The troublemaking squad leader swiftly moved into the opening, twisting his body dynamically in the confined space.

Thud!

He kicked off the ground, twisted inside, and drove his elbow straight into Andrew’s solar plexus.

That single blow ended it.

“Urgh.”

Andrew groaned, his legs trembling. His breath caught in his throat, and his limbs went limp.

Vital points were like that.

Andrew hunched over, gasping for air.

In real combat, he would have been dead.

‘What strength.’

The impact penetrated the thick cloth armor.

His skill surpassed that of most mercenaries.

A question naturally arose.

Why is he a lowest-level soldier?