Eternally Regressing Knight - Chapter 32: Dreams, Reprimands, and Responsibilities

“The flagpole?”

“It’s safe.”

The captain of the Azpen Duchy wasn’t pleased with the operation currently underway. But what could a field officer do against orders from above? If they say jump, you jump.

So he was jumping, and in the middle of it, a small problem arose.

A few rats from Naurilia had infiltrated the camp and set fire to it.

Even though more than half of their troops were lying in ambush in the tall grass, the intruders had still managed to breach the defenses.

No matter how much he disliked this operation, it had already begun. At this point, failure was not an option—it was a matter of pride.

Allowing the enemy to succeed was out of the question.

“You should have been more thorough in your defenses.”

The owner of the flagpole spoke, causing the captain’s forehead to bulge with veins. The man’s words irked him; if he weren’t necessary, the captain would have drawn his sword and taken his head off then and there. But what could he do? The fact remained that there had been a breach in their defenses.

“Yes, of course.”

Fwoosh!

The captain brushed off the comment and exited the tent with a dismissive wave.

He couldn’t wrap his head around the situation.

‘Does this make any sense?’

That the enemy had discovered this location? Fine, that was within the realm of possibility. But what next?

With fewer than ten men, they had bypassed his troops hidden in the tall grass and struck at the heart of the camp?

The captain had faith in his unit.

And why wouldn’t he?

His nickname was “The Demon Captain.”

He’d earned that name because of the brutal training he put his men through.

His belief was simple: if you cough up blood in training, you won’t cough up blood and die on the battlefield.

It was his well-trained unit that had been breached.

‘And they got through this?’

He truly believed there was no such thing as a defeated soldier, only a soldier who failed to guard his post.

Was he supposed to blame his own soldiers for the breach?

That wasn’t possible.

The ones who had planned and executed this were no ordinary men.

They had the courage to infiltrate enemy lines with just a few men, the skill to survive an encounter with his platoon leaders, and the audacity to set fire to the camp and escape.

Even though the platoon leader had let them go due to the spreading fire…

‘Luck is a skill too.’

As a captain who had spent years on the battlefield, he understood the importance of luck.

The captain turned to his waiting lieutenant.

“Gather all the officers, except those currently on duty.”

“Yes, sir.”

His company was part of a battalion but operated under its own command structure.

In other words, it was an independent company.

And typically, independent companies had their own nicknames.

His unit was called the “Grey Dogs.”

In the Azpen Duchy, Grey Dogs were known for their stubborn persistence, always following through with what they set their sights on, whether it be love or a fight.

Because of this, the Grey Dogs were also known as the “Relentless Lovers.”

Now, the leader of that unit had set his sights on an enemy reconnaissance leader whose name he didn’t even know.

‘I will kill him, no matter what.’

The Grey Dog, the relentless pursuer, had chosen his target.

The captain steeled himself.

He would hunt down and destroy his target.

Overhead, dark clouds began to gather, perhaps the work of the shaman in the tent.

Rain seemed imminent.

The recent rains were largely the work of the shaman, who was central to this strategy.

Though the captain disliked it, he couldn’t deny the effectiveness of the operation.

If it had been a foolhardy plan, the captain of the independent Grey Dog company, or “Relentless Lovers,” would never have participated, even if it meant death.

Victory was assured on this battlefield.

Though he was consumed with a desire for revenge, he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was all rather dull.

* * *

“So, you just happened to discover the enemy’s ambush, then just happened to infiltrate their main camp, and then just happened to set it on fire?”

It did sound odd when put that way.

Instead of nodding, Encrid added an explanation.

“Yes, at that moment, I believed it was the right decision, so I acted, and it just so happened that things turned out this way.”

The reconnaissance lieutenant blinked.

What the hell is this guy saying?

Here was someone around his own age, who had somehow lucked into being a squad leader.

Despite being hopelessly incompetent, this idiot who was always swinging his sword around had somehow gotten the job done.

And now, hearing about what he had done, it sounded like…

Even when told by Encrid himself, it seemed unbelievable.

The stories from the surviving squad members were even more outrageous.

“So, rumors can’t be trusted, huh? If possible, I’d like to learn more from him.”

Andrew, who had previously seemed overly arrogant, said this before departing.

He had been worried about sending this kid out of fear that something might go wrong.

He had forcefully taken over the command of the reconnaissance team, and now he said it was the right thing to do and that he wanted to learn more.

Was this really the Andrew he knew?

“In terms of skill, I’d say he’s surpassed the level of an intermediate soldier.”

Next was Mac, Andrew’s guardian.

The lieutenant knew Mac’s capabilities well.

In fact, he had trusted Mac enough to assign Andrew to lead the reconnaissance mission.

And now Mac was acknowledging Encrid’s abilities.

And not just any acknowledgment, but one based on skill.

“He knows a lot. I just followed orders, and this is how it turned out.”

The last was Enri, the plains hunter.

All the squad members shared the same opinion.

They had simply followed orders and trusted him.

They couldn’t all be lying.

So, this really had happened.

Encrid had taken over the command of the reconnaissance team.

With fewer than ten men, he had evaded the enemy troops hidden in the tall grass, infiltrated their main camp, and set it on fire before returning alive.

‘Does that even make sense?’

It didn’t seem possible, but he had set the fire and gathered intelligence on the enemy’s movements, so there was nothing to say.

The lieutenant tried to piece together everything he had heard and found it perplexing.

Somehow, the enemy had simply avoided them, or maybe they had just passed through the enemy camp in the darkness without being noticed.

“Well, um, I suppose you were incredibly lucky.”

In the end, the reconnaissance lieutenant could only say this.

Encrid agreed that it was a fitting assessment.

He couldn’t very well explain that he had memorized the enemy’s movements and layout because of his ability to relive the same day whenever he died.

“Yes, luck was on our side.”

If this was luck, it was the kind of luck that most people would never experience.

It was as if the goddess of fortune hadn’t just kissed him but spent the night.

But other than attributing it to luck, there was no other explanation.

It wasn’t something to hide, so the rumor began to spread within the reconnaissance unit.

Encrid, the troublemaker squad leader, was a man of luck—a man blessed by the goddess of fortune, who had entrusted him with her coin, or perhaps a man who had used up a lifetime’s worth of luck on this reconnaissance mission.

The journey back to the main unit was uneventful.

The only thing that happened during the half-day march was a light, intermittent drizzle.

It rained from a clear sky.

It wasn’t common, but it did happen occasionally.

And throughout the return journey, Encrid was lost in thought.

‘Was that the best I could do?’

It was a question he asked himself.

If he had repeated ‘today’ a few more times, could he have achieved a different outcome?

There’s always a sense of regret in everything. Encrid had learned that from a young age.

What mattered was the choice and the process of making that choice.

‘I thought it was the best I could do.’

Repeating today allowed him to consider other possibilities.

He wondered if that really was the best he could do, if there was another option, another choice he could have made.

‘Only four.’

That was the number of people who had returned alive.

Including himself, there were five.

Half of the squad was dead.

The results posed a question to Encrid.

Was this really the best outcome? Was there nothing else he could have done?

‘Five people died.’

Those five weren’t his family or friends.

They were just soldiers who had shared a brief mission with him.

Their presence or absence wouldn’t change anything.

But in that moment, on that day, they were his responsibility.

The dream he had held in his heart for so long, the conviction that had guided him this far, now rebuked him.

Was that really the best he could do?

Couldn’t he have saved more?

‘What kind of knight do you intend to be?’

Encrid had been captivated by the idea of becoming a knight since he was a child.

The young boy who had been enthralled by the songs of minstrels about knights had grown up.

As time passed, Encrid realized that he was a man of meager talent.

He had rolled through battlefields and learned his limits.

Yet, he hadn’t given up on his dream.

Even if that dream had become tattered and worn like old leather.

Even if it had been torn apart by the harsh blade of reality.

He had never given up.

So he hadn’t ended up as someone merely captivated by the idea of knighthood.

A knight is someone who protects, someone who steps forward, someone who stands by their convictions.

‘What kind of knight do I want to be?’

Repeating today allowed Encrid to push beyond his limits.

If that were the case, he should also uphold the principles he had learned, seen, and established for himself over time.

‘What kind of knight did I want to become?’

As his tattered dream and conviction took shape and rebuked him, Encrid accepted that reprimand.

In doing so, he decided to move past what had already happened.

Even if he could have saved those five by repeating today, it was too late now.

That particular ‘today’ had ended.

Dwelling on it was foolish.

“There’s the main unit.”

One of the soldiers walking with him said.

“Whew, we made it.”

Enri, who was being supported by another soldier, mumbled.

“So, are you going to run straight to that flower shop widow when we get back?”

“I’ll have to wait until after this battle is over.”

At Encrid’s words, Enri responded with a delighted expression.

The joy of surviving, of making it back through all the hardships, filled his heart.

The same was true for everyone else.

Especially the former gangster soldier.

He had spent the entire return trip reflecting on what had happened.

How had he managed to survive?

He had lived his life as a thug, expecting to die that way, but somehow, he had ended up joining the army.

And somehow, he had found himself serving under Andrew.

And then there was this reconnaissance mission.

He had learned a lot from it.

As he pondered these thoughts, the gangster soldier, limping on his injured leg, approached Encrid.

It wasn’t intentional, but he hadn’t spoken a word to Encrid the entire way back.

‘A man who doesn’t repay kindness isn’t worth calling a man.’

That was what his older brother, who had taken him in as a child, had said.

That brother was long dead, but his words had become a guiding principle in his life.

Even though he had lived a rough life, the former gangster knew how to repay kindness.

“Sorry for my rudeness. I’ll repay the favor of saving my life if I get the chance.”

Encrid stared at the soldier who had suddenly come up to him and spoke, then nodded.

Did I really save his life?

In truth, it had been a situation where he could have died if things had gone wrong, and the fact that he had survived was thanks to his own luck.

After all, in the many iterations of today, that soldier had died many times.

It was just that on this particular day, at that particular moment, the goddess of fortune had stayed with him a little longer.

“Do as you like.”

Encrid replied nonchalantly and turned away, spotting Andrew and Mac nearby.

“Thanks.”

Mac spoke first, his gaze unusually friendly.

Andrew was even more expressive.

“I think it’d be nice if we could meet again.”

He had thought of Andrew as an endlessly arrogant brat, but his attitude had changed.

His gaze was now respectful.

Encrid pressed his hand against the painful wound on his side and spoke.

“If we’re in the same battlefield, we’ll meet again. The flower of the battlefield is…”

“Infantry.”

They used the infantry’s motto as a farewell.

The reconnaissance lieutenant, who had been observing, then approached.

“You’re all free to return. Those injured should report to the medical tent. Well done, everyone. And, uh, never mind.”

The reconnaissance lieutenant had been about to mention rewards and recognition to Encrid but decided against it.

‘I need to report this first.’

He couldn’t believe what had happened, even after hearing it.

He didn’t know if the higher-ups would believe it either, so he figured it was too early to talk about such things.

“Then.”

As Encrid noticed the pain in his side subsiding, he decided he wasn’t in need of treatment and began walking.

It was time to return.

‘Hopefully, nothing’s happened.’

He hadn’t had time to think about it in the tall grass, but now that he was returning to camp, he wondered if his squad had stayed out of trouble.

Had they gotten into a fight with other soldiers?

Or maybe they had beaten each other to a pulp?

Whatever it was, something must have happened.

There was a reason his squad had earned the nickname “troublemakers.”

He hadn’t even reached the barracks yet.

Bang!

The loud clanging of metal rang in his ears.

His hearing, sharpened through training with Jaxson, pinpointed the source of the sound instantly.

It was coming from the main barracks.

Encrid quickened his pace.

As he approached the barracks, he saw a crowd gathered around.

In the center were two people with their weapons locked—an axe and a sword.

They were standing right in front of the troublemaker squad’s barracks.

The one with the axe was Rem.

The one with the sword was Ragna.

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