Eternally Regressing Knight - Chapter 52: The Turtle and the Frontier Slaughterer (1)
“Let’s have a go.”
The soldier who spoke stepped forward. His appearance was unremarkable. He was slightly shorter than Encrid, but his build was solid. The sharp blade of the short sword he held reflected the light.
The Frontier Slaughterers—soldiers of the Royal Frontier Defense Force—were an elite group. There were only two hundred of them, but their commander held the same rank as a battalion commander. According to Naurilia’s structure, they were part of the Royal Army.
This meant that the Frontier Defense Force operated under a separate command system from the 1st and 2nd Infantry Battalions stationed at the Border Guard.
The Frontier Defense soldier gazed at Encrid with dull eyes. It wasn’t a provoking look, but rather one of arrogant indifference, as if he saw Encrid as beneath him.
That look sparked Encrid’s competitive spirit. He thought this would be worth a fight.
Encrid was excited.
*I can fight.*
In the past, he would have been overwhelmed by sheer skill or crushed by talent before the fight even began. But now? How far had he come? He was savoring the joy of this transformation.
Seeing Encrid hesitate, the crowd began to murmur.
“Spellbreaker.”
“Troublemaker Squad Leader.”
“Go for it!”
“He’s nothing special, even if he’s elite!”
Despite Encrid only having fought three short duels, the soldiers around him were already cheering for him. It was a strange experience for Encrid—he had never encountered such a situation in his life.
“Let’s go!”
“Show him what you’ve got!”
“The flower of the battlefield!”
“Is the infantry!”
They were even shouting the infantry’s slogan now. It was funny, considering his opponent was also infantry. Still, the sentiment of support was clearly there.
The desire to fight grew stronger in Encrid. His thirst wasn’t quenched by just fighting intermediate soldiers. The spirit and discipline of the infantry fueled him, and a thrilling sensation ran from his toes through his entire body.
Vengeance, watching from the sidelines, could understand why everyone was cheering for Encrid.
*It makes sense.*
Vengeance himself had shouted for Encrid to show them what he was capable of.
Encrid was the lowest-ranked soldier, constantly swinging his sword, even sacrificing his sleep. He was the squad leader controlling the troublesome squad. His position had been insignificant, and his skill, despite all his effort, had been considered poor.
That had been the assessment so far. Everyone had probably thought similarly.
But now, how things had changed.
Encrid—the troublemaker squad leader—had shown something entirely different. He had proven himself with exceptional skill, and the moment he broke the spell, saving his comrades and shifting the tide of battle, became reality.
Everyone had doubted it, but now they all knew who had truly been the hero of the battlefield.
It was an unspoken truth that the battalion commander had pocketed the credit for Encrid’s deeds, giving him only a small pouch of *krona* as a token of recognition.
Like most military organizations, there was a culture of higher-ups skimming off the rewards. And this battalion commander was notorious for it, rumored to see his soldiers as nothing more than expendable.
Many soldiers, including Vell, had quietly noticed Encrid’s growing abilities. Vell was one of those saved by Encrid when he shielded him from the “Hawk’s Claw” archer’s arrow.
*I knew it from the start!*
Vell had recognized it when Encrid saved his life.
The troublemaker squad leader was destined to make something of himself.
*Of course.*
And it wasn’t just him. Everyone who had crossed paths with Encrid, knowingly or unknowingly, had their feelings unified.
Encrid now stood as a representative of the regular soldiers of the Border Guard.
As Encrid received their support, he kicked the tip of his sword and readied his stance. At the same time, he shook off the thrill running through him and steadied his breath.
“You’re really going through with this?”
“There’s no reason to avoid it.”
Watching Encrid’s calm demeanor, Torres, the soldier from the Frontier Defense Force, thought to himself.
*Oh?*
The Frontier Slaughterers. They hadn’t earned that nickname for nothing, yet here was an ordinary soldier refusing to back down. Instead, Encrid was stepping forward, even with a faint smile on his face.
Interesting. Amusing, even. But at the same time, it irritated him. Torres wanted to show the difference between a regular soldier and a special forces one.
*Whoosh.*
Torres charged first, his speed frighteningly fast.
Encrid waited and thrust his sword toward the center. It was a good move—whichever direction his opponent dodged, a powerful strike would follow.
But Torres didn’t dodge. Instead, he brought his sword up to meet Encrid’s.
The moment their blades clashed, Encrid tried to push down with force, but Torres had a trick up his sleeve.
*Clang!*
Torres twisted his sword, causing Encrid’s downward force to deflect to the side. It was a basic technique of deflecting the opponent’s blade in swordsmanship.
As the force slid away, Encrid didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward with his right foot and kicked.
*Thud!*
Just before Encrid’s foot could land, Torres blocked his shin with his palm.
The distance between them closed, now even closer than their swords. Torres suddenly dropped his short sword and closed in on Encrid, gripping his collar with both hands, intending to choke him.
But Encrid didn’t care about being choked. He raised his sword from between his legs, aiming to strike Torres’ back with the blunt side.
Even if Torres choked him, he wouldn’t pass out immediately, and in that brief window, Encrid could leave a deep mark on the elite soldier’s back.
Torres twisted his body, releasing his grip on Encrid’s collar and shoving him in the chest with both hands.
Encrid resisted the push, didn’t retreat, and swung his sword horizontally instead.
From the moment Torres had dropped his short sword, his defeat seemed inevitable.
One man had a weapon, and the other did not.
Which side was at an advantage?
However, Encrid experienced something strange at that moment.
His opponent suddenly disappeared.
*Disappeared?*
His concentration shattered. Torres had vanished right before his eyes. No sound. No movement.
Then, Encrid’s body reacted purely on instinct.
The survival instincts honed through countless deaths, over and over again, as he desperately fought to survive day after day.
It was this instinct that saved him now.
He immediately gripped his sword with just his right hand and pulled his chin back, exposing his chest.
A flash of light shot up from beneath his chin.
*Swish!*
The flash grazed Encrid’s cheek. In that brief moment, Encrid’s focus sharpened again.
If he missed this, he would die. His instincts left him with a clear warning.
The flash of light quickly dropped down.
Encrid didn’t miss it. He caught it with his left hand, lifting his knee as he did so.
*Thud! Thump!*
Heat radiated from his palm, the pain sharp and immediate.
He saw Torres’s eyes tremble as he closed in.
Blood trickled down Encrid’s hand, where he had caught the dagger.
After dropping his short sword, Torres had drawn a hidden dagger and made a deadly strike.
A drop of blood fell to the ground.
Then more blood dripped steadily.
Torres exhaled sharply and feigned retreat, acting as though he were about to pull back his sword.
Encrid allowed him to withdraw. Pain surged through his left hand. The heat was searing.
He could also feel the sting of pain and the blood running down his cheek.
He had been grazed earlier. If he hadn’t avoided it, his jaw would have been split open. He had been lucky.
If not for his instincts…
*That was close.*
Encrid thought to himself.
“You’re lucky, aren’t you?”
Then, Rem’s voice cut in.
Rem had appeared behind Torres, with his axe resting on his shoulder. He was close enough that a single swing would hit.
Next to Rem, Ragna had one hand on his sword, his left foot half a step forward, prepared to strike.
“That’s enough. You shouldn’t push it any further.”
Ragna muttered.
If Rem and Ragna had surrounded Torres, there was someone else beside him as well.
It was Jaxson, the red-haired squad member.
He didn’t have a weapon in his hand, but he looked more dangerous than either Rem or Ragna.
Encrid’s instincts, sharpened from the duel, told him so.
And it wasn’t just the three of them.
Encrid’s gaze dropped lower. Between him and Torres, there was a blade separating them.
A sword resembling a leaf—an elven blade.
“That’s enough. I’m the 4th Company Captain. Any more, and this will be considered fratricide.”
It was the elven company captain. Her sword had somehow wedged itself between them.
“Why so deadly? This is just a sparring match, yet it almost turned into a bloodbath.”
Torres retrieved his dagger, rubbing his stomach where Encrid had struck him, and raised his hands in surrender.
Only then did the onlookers, who had been holding their breath, exhale.
“That was some amazing fighting.”
“Seriously, how is he the lowest-ranked soldier?”
No special assessment was needed now.
“He’s at least advanced level!”
These soldiers could recognize skill when they saw it, especially considering who Encrid had faced.
“I’m Torres, Platoon Leader of the Frontier Defense Force.”
He tapped his insignia and extended his hand. Encrid sheathed his sword and shook his hand with his uninjured right hand.
“I’m Encrid, Squad Leader of the 4th Platoon, 4th Company.”
Since Torres had spoken with formality, Encrid followed suit and saluted him.
“I’ve heard of the troublemaker squad leader.”
Anyone in the city who knew anything, knew about Encrid.
Torres grinned warmly, a far cry from the man who had just fought with his life on the line.
“You’re a damn good fighter. Let’s do this again sometime.”
Torres turned and walked away.
As he moved through the crowd, the soldiers parted for him.
The Frontier Slaughterers were held in high regard even among their own forces.
For the platoon leader of such an elite unit to acknowledge Encrid was significant.
The man who had broken the spell and saved the battalion remained.
“And why does he have to be so handsome, too?”
Someone commented as they watched Encrid, sweat dripping from his brow as he swept back his hair.
Everyone in the training grounds had now taken notice of Encrid.
Unintentionally, this had marked the turning point in how everyone saw him.
After this, no one dared to speak poorly of Encrid again.
“Who? That squad leader? Isn’t he just a fox, relying on his squad members to do the work?”
On the contrary, any soldier who hadn’t witnessed the promotion duel and spoke poorly of Encrid would now be scolded.
“Are you serious? We barely survived the last battle thanks to that squad leader, and you still talk like that?”
“Huh?”
A soldier returning from leave was bewildered by his comrade’s reaction.
“Don’t you know about the Spellbreaker? Do you think that spell just collapsed on its own? You clueless idiot!”
Before going on leave, hadn’t they all been bad-mouthing the troublemaker squad leader together?
The sudden shift in his comrades’ attitude was too drastic.
But he couldn’t say much—he wasn’t the only one to have changed. With the atmosphere as it was, he quickly fell in line.
And now that he thought about it, *didn’t they say he broke the spell?*
He had even received a commendation for it. Perhaps the troublemaker squad leader had accomplished something truly remarkable.
The ones who had previously claimed it was all thanks to his squad had disappeared.
At the forefront of the change was Vell.
“I almost died from an arrow, but he showed up and blocked it.”
Of course, Vengeance had played a part as well.
“The place was on fire, and even though I hadn’t exactly been friendly with him before, he saved me. He carried me out of the flames and collapsed afterward. And yes, it was Squad Leader Encrid who broke the spell. I saw him myself, charging ahead!”
Andrew chimed in.
“From the beginning, I knew he wasn’t ordinary. He predicted the enemy’s movements and led the reconnaissance. It wasn’t me—it was Encrid.”
Some even added “sir” to his name.
Mack, Andrew’s mentor, added his own testimony.
“Throughout the reconnaissance mission, he took on the most dangerous positions and tasks. As for his swordsmanship, I’m not qualified to judge.”
Mack was considered one of the best swordsmen among the regular soldiers.
The mood had shifted entirely.
Despite the change in perception, daily life continued as usual. While word spread that the troublemaker squad leader was far more skilled than expected, nothing much else changed.
“He’s an advanced soldier now?”
To the battalion commander, the promotion of one soldier to advanced status wasn’t worth celebrating.
To him, the troublemaker squad leader was nothing more than an uncomfortable presence. So, he ignored it.
Encrid didn’t get swept up by the shift in mood either.
He simply treated his injuries and focused on his duties at the sentry post.
Two days after his promotion, Encrid was standing guard with Rem at the southern gate of the Border Guard.
“Was it all intentional? You sneaky bastard, Squad Leader.”
Rem commented.
“What was?”
“The way everyone’s been kissing your ass lately. You act like you don’t notice.”
Encrid had ears and eyes. Especially when Krys, who loved gossip, was around. He knew exactly what people were saying.
At first, it felt good.
After all, he had broken the spell, even if it had been in the desperate struggle to survive.
But pride aside, Encrid soon returned to his usual self.
Training and honing his skills.
“Never get tired of it?”
“Never. Want to spar after our shift?”
“Sounds good.”
Rem chuckled. He liked how consistent the squad leader was.
As they headed back to the barracks after their shift, someone blocked their path.
It was a face Encrid hadn’t seen before.
“Mind if we talk for a moment?”
Before Rem could raise his eyebrow and ask who the hell the guy was, Encrid answered.
“Sure.”
He knew who it was. It was obvious that it wouldn’t be good for Rem to interact with this man.
“You go on ahead.”
Encrid dismissed Rem.
“You sure you don’t need me to stick around?”
“Just go.”
“Fine. If you abandon me, I’ll sulk like a teenage girl, I swear!”
Rem grumbled as he walked off.
Encrid patted him on the back and watched him go. The man observing them shook his head slightly.
“Your discipline is a mess.”
“Well, we don’t get called the troublemaker squad for nothing.”
They were right in front of the barracks. The man began walking along the low walls of the military base, and Encrid followed beside him.
“You know who I am, right?”
“You’re the 1st Company Captain, aren’t you?”
The man nodded.
He was the commander of the Turtle Heavy Infantry, one of the pride units of the Border Guard’s 1st Battalion.