Eternally Regressing Knight - Chapter 7: Triple Threes

He couldn’t keep laughing forever, so Encrid stopped smiling soon after.

Seeing this, Rem grabbed Encrid’s wrist and pulled out a bandage from his pocket, wrapping it tightly.

“Stay behind me today. With your hand like this, you’re just asking to die. If you go into battle like this and say it happened during training, the platoon leader will throw a fit.”

“It’s fine.”

“Fine? Going into battle with this hand means certain death. Is your career goal suicide? If so, I won’t get in your way.”

He wasn’t wrong. Going into battle with a hand like this would be a death sentence.

But for Encrid, it wasn’t a big problem. If he died again, he could just start over.

Then the 125th morning would dawn.

“It’s not boring.”

He could end the repetitive today.

Encrid hadn’t just been training swordsmanship during this time.

Repeating the day 124 times, he had also been devising ways to navigate ‘today.’

When an ordinary soldier returns alive from their first battle, it’s often said they picked up a coin dropped by the goddess of luck.

Without exceptional talent, luck plays a significant role in survival.

According to Encrid’s calculations, surviving required a few strokes of luck.

“But I won’t rely on luck.”

Encrid didn’t need to rely on luck.

He knew what happened on the battlefield, especially around him.

Therefore, he could prepare and plan.

On the 124th iteration, Encrid died again from a stab to the neck.

His hand was so messed up he couldn’t even properly block the strike.

Still, not wanting to waste even a single day, he observed the enemy soldier’s thrust. He held his breath and endured to the end.

He did this while thinking, “This will hurt. Mercy.”

Listening to the enemy soldier’s voice, he endured the sharp pain of the blade through his neck.

Something caught on his tongue, and he spat it out just before dying. It was a broken molar.

The pain of clenching his teeth had caused it.

Yeah, it wasn’t boring.

He spent the repeating today valuably, so it was enjoyable.

But no matter the reason, “I don’t want to die.”

Dying wasn’t fun.

Especially not at the hands of a sadistic bastard who enjoyed others’ pain.

If he could end it, he would. The moment he realized he was trapped in a day, Encrid resolved to end it.

Then, clang! clang! clang!

The 125th morning dawned.

* * *

Getting out of bed, Encrid grabbed Rem’s boots and shook them out.

“What are you doing? Those are mine.”

“I know, the smell is awful. If we throw these at the enemy, we could kill fifty of them with the stench alone.”

“Judging by your attitude this morning, did you have a good dream?”

Thud! A bug fell out of Rem’s boot. Encrid stepped on it.

“I saw it crawl in this morning.”

“…Thanks.”

Rem chuckled and put on his boots.

Leaving Rem behind, Encrid stepped outside the tent.

The dawn had just broken, mixing the blue of early morning with the yellow of sunlight.

The last sentry shift was busy banging pots, and newly awakened soldiers rubbed their eyes or silently went about their tasks.

“Damn it, stop that. My head’s splitting.”

“Who told you to get drunk last night?”

This came from the rear tent.

“Shut up. Drinking gets you a penalty.”

“You wish.”

It was a conversation between the last sentry and a soldier who had gotten drunk the previous night.

Encrid glanced back at the drunk soldier.

He was a ten-man squad leader from another unit. A guy with a good mother.

On the 66th day, Encrid had befriended him to remember that day.

“Aren’t you on breakfast duty?”

“You do it.”

While looking back, Encrid suddenly spoke to Rem, who had followed him.

“Why should I?”

“You can do it for once. I’ve covered for you more than five times.”

“You actually kept count?”

“Yeah, just yours.”

“Why only mine?”

“Because you’re annoying.”

Over 125 iterations, Encrid hadn’t managed to leave a single scratch on Rem.

He didn’t resent him for it. If he felt anything, it was gratitude.

Rem would agree to take breakfast duty.

Having Rem handle morning duty was part of the pattern that gave him the highest survival chances and best condition to start the day.

“Fine, damn it. I’ll do it.”

Moving around to get warm, the morning chill no longer made him shiver.

Encrid twisted his body here and there but didn’t leave the front of the tent.

One by one, squad members came out.

Jaxson was the first. He was a diligent squad member. He caught Encrid’s eye and nodded.

Encrid nodded back.

A few more members came out after that.

Encrid grabbed the last one, who emerged half-asleep.

“Big Eyes.”

“Mm?”

Nickname: Big Eyes. Real name: Krys Olman.

A pretty-faced squad member.

Although the 444 Squad was known for its rough members, Krys was the only one with below-average combat skills.

To be precise, even Encrid could beat him in a fight.

“Yawning this early in the morning, why? Getting up early is torture for a premium talent like me.”

Krys yawned widely.

He hadn’t even wiped the sleep from his eyes or washed his face, but he still looked good.

A face that could attract those interested in men.

“Get me some items.”

Krys tilted his head at Encrid’s request.

It wasn’t a usual request, so he was curious.

“Did you start smoking? Or drinking? I can’t get women right now, not even for you.”

Krys was the unit’s black market dealer who could get anything.

“Do I look like I want women?”

“No. So, what do you need?”

“Five throwing knives, oiled leather and a large needle, deer skin gloves, ten white marigold flowers, and a handful of alum.”

Encrid gestured the size of the leather piece, indicating it should be big enough to wrap around a man’s torso.

“…I have no idea what you’re planning.”

“Can you get it or not?”

Krys looked at Encrid for a moment and then nodded.

“I can get anything. But even if you’re the squad leader, it’s not free. You know that, right?”

“How much?”

“Seventeen silver coins.”

Swindler.

Five throwing knives could be bought for one or two silver coins at the blacksmith’s.

Of course, if iron prices soared, it could be more than three coins, but usually, that was the price.

Plus, Krys wouldn’t be getting pure steel knives. He’d get usable ones, though.

Good leather could cost anything, but he wouldn’t be getting top-quality leather from a famous workshop.

The only real expense would be the needle and deer skin gloves.

These would cost at least three silver coins.

White marigolds could be bought for a few pennies in town.

Alum could be cheaply sourced from a nearby leather workshop.

Although Encrid was knowledgeable about such things, he didn’t argue.

First, this was within the unit, meaning it would be hard to get these items without Krys.

Second, the specific price of seventeen silver coins indicated it was likely a fair price Krys had set.

There was another reason too.

“Can I get it right after breakfast?”

“You know that means I’ll have to skip breakfast?”

“You don’t eat much anyway.”

“True. But, as far as I know, you don’t have that much money.”

Krys made a circle with his thumb and forefinger.

“Not right now.”

He had saved at times, but recently he’d spent everything on a new sword.

So he was currently broke.

He would get paid after the battle, but asking for it now would make him seem like a deserter.

“Damn, this is tricky.”

Krys muttered, and Encrid smiled.

A confident smile from someone with a plan.

“Lend me five copper coins.”

Krys didn’t trust most people easily.

But it was different with Encrid.

“Because he’s the squad leader.”

Encrid wasn’t someone who messed around.

More importantly, he had saved Krys’s life.

Krys handed over five copper coins.

Encrid pocketed the jingling coins and headed to the adjacent tent.

Inside, several soldiers were already gambling early in the morning.

It was a dice game with the last sentries and a few guys who preferred gambling to sleep.

The surprised looks they gave Encrid soon turned curious once they recognized him.

“Isn’t that the 444 Squad leader?”

“Busy morning, huh?”

Krys, who followed, looked impressed. He hated gambling. He hated getting swindled and losing hard-earned money to luck.

Winning would be nice, but one taste of victory could lead to addiction.

Losing meant an empty money bag.

To Krys, gambling was a fool’s game.

Encrid joined in.

“Mind if I join?”

“Here?”

The last sentry from the neighboring tent eyed his gambling buddies before nodding.

“Sure.”

A sucker was always welcome.

As Encrid crouched down to join, Krys grabbed his collar.

“Are you wasting my five copper coins here?”

Still bleary-eyed, Krys glared at Encrid with his big eyes.

“You must have made a lot of girls cry.”

Encrid thought, pushing Krys’s hand away.

“Once I borrow it, it’s mine.”

With that, he took a seat.

The gamblers shifted to make room.

“You know how to play dice?”

Asked a soldier rolling pig-bone dice in a wooden cup.

“If the same number comes up, you double your bet. Bet on higher or lower than nine and get paid accordingly.”

He had seen it over 125 times.

There was no way he didn’t know.

There were three dice, totaling eighteen.

So you bet on whether the total will be higher or lower than nine.

The guy in the middle was the dealer.

He rolled the dice while the others placed their bets.

“Let’s start the first round.”

A quick game before breakfast. The stakes were small.

Minimum bet was five copper coins, maximum was two silver coins.

Encrid placed five copper coins.

“Low.”

“High.”

“Low.”

“Low.”

“High.”

“High.”

“Low.”

In less than ten minutes, Encrid held two silver coins.

The appeal of dice games was their speed.

The thrill of rapid wins or losses.

They played like that.

At first, Encrid memorized the numbers for fun.

Were the dice the same every day?

Though the day repeated, minor events around him changed slightly.

So he knew.

The dice results were always the same.

“The goddess of luck must have kissed you.”

When Encrid had over ten silver coins, the dealer remarked.

“Isn’t this cheating?”

The dealer voiced what another soldier should have said.

“Cheating? No, just lucky. The goddess is whispering in my ear.”

Encrid brushed off their suspicion.

They couldn’t argue.

The dealer rolled the dice.

Even if rigged, this was too much.

Midway, some gamblers started betting with Encrid and profiting.

“Cheating? You’re the one rolling the dice.”

“Thought you were casting some spell.”

“As if.”

“Another day, win or lose, you keep playing? No stopping when unlucky.”

A soldier chuckled, having profited thanks to Encrid.

The dealer agreed and rolled a few more times.

“Last round. Running out of time.”

Breakfast was approaching.

Encrid rolled ten silver coins in his hand.

He had turned five copper coins into this.

All the dealer’s money.

“Had fun. Want to take a last bet of ten coins? I want to cash out.”

The maximum bet was five silver coins.

The dealer frowned. Given the day’s luck, there was no reason to accept.

“Then I’ll bet on triples.”

Encrid continued before the dealer could respond.

What were the odds of rolling three identical numbers?

The soldier rolling the dice had rarely seen it.

He had never seen it happen in a real game.

Only when playing alone.

So Encrid’s bet seemed like a joke, throwing away his winnings. At least to the dealer.

Poke.

Krys nudged Encrid’s back.

He mouthed the words, “Are you crazy?”

Not at all.

Encrid wasn’t crazy.

“Ten silver coins on triples.”

“…Fine.”

The dealer rolled the dice loudly, ensuring no tampering.

“Let’s see.”

With a hopeful smile, the dealer opened the cup.

“…Wow, shit.”

“The goddess blessed you.”

“No way.”

Everyone was shocked.

Except Encrid.

Triple threes.

The dice showed the same number.