Eternally Regressing Knight - Chapter 8: Snakes, Wine, Flowers, and Knives

Not wanting to die anymore was just the surface reason.

As Encrid repeated ‘today,’ he felt another fear.

The fear of settling here, the fear that if he moved past today, he might never get another chance like this, the fear of wanting to stop here.

That desire was terrifying to Encrid.

“Is this what I wanted?”

Settling for today was a stagnant life.

A life that couldn’t progress.

Dreaming of tomorrow was a natural human instinct.

Especially for Encrid, who dreamt of tomorrow despite his lack of talent.

And there was a rational reason.

“I’ve learned all I can.”

Continuing to train here wouldn’t yield much more.

So, it was time to move toward tomorrow.

“What happens if I survive?”

Would this today end?

He had pondered it countless times.

In conclusion, he didn’t know.

He didn’t know what would happen after surviving.

“If I can move forward.”

He would move forward.

That’s how he had lived his whole life.

Most importantly, Encrid needed assurance.

Could he really see tomorrow with what he had gained from repeating today?

He didn’t know. Therefore, he would challenge it.

The mindset of a challenger was a part of his daily life.

Today would be a long day.

He would need to use everything he had accumulated.

* * *

“How did you do that?”

“Luck.”

“Can you call that luck?”

As soon as he exited the tent, Krys asked with eyes wider than usual.

The friend who had rolled the dice was still dazed.

He didn’t raise a fuss about it being unfair.

He had rolled the dice himself.

So, Encrid could walk out casually.

There was nothing against his conscience.

He hadn’t cheated.

He just knew what numbers the dice would show, like a fake prophet.

“I’ll buy you a beer in town later.”

A soldier who had won a lot thanks to Encrid patted his shoulder as he passed.

“Really, it was just luck. I’m not good at gambling.”

Encrid said, changing direction. Krys followed closely.

“If that’s bad at gambling, good gamblers are all six feet under.”

“Sometimes luck comes by chance.”

“…If luck strikes twice, your pocket will burst with coins.”

Walking, Encrid handed Krys seventeen silver coins.

Jingle.

The sound of silver coins clinking made Krys grab the pouch.

Accepting it, Krys shrugged, saying, “Whatever, none of my business.”

Then he widened his big eyes and looked at Encrid.

“I know.”

Know what?

Encrid asked with his eyes.

Grinning, Krys continued.

“You’re trying to hit on the commander coming tomorrow, right? So, the flowers? Wouldn’t roses or lisianthus be better than white marigolds?”

Maybe the items he had asked Krys to gather seemed peculiar.

“…Do you think that would work?”

What’s going on in this guy’s head?

The new company commander arriving tomorrow was rumored to be a woman.

Yeah, they did say a woman was coming.

But would a bouquet of flowers really win her over?

It wouldn’t even work on a country girl.

Maybe if Krys’s face was part of the package, it might have a chance.

No, it probably wouldn’t work. At best, it would get him executed for disrespecting a superior.

“Your face is quite presentable if you clean up.”

“Do you always ask so many questions when I ask for something?”

With his eyes, Encrid indicated that Krys should hurry if he wanted to get the items before lunch.

Krys nodded and turned away.

He would move quickly.

He had to. Even though Encrid had done this a few times, he needed Krys to move fast so he could get everything done today.

So now was the time to rest.

Encrid leisurely ate breakfast.

The breakfast consisted of soup with crushed barley and wheat, hard bread, and dried meat.

Meat only came every three days.

Luckily, today was one of those days.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have seen meat in the repeating days.

He broke the bread into the soup, making it thick enough to chew.

Adding shredded dried meat, the taste finally balanced.

Encrid chewed thoroughly. Meals were vital for energy.

Regardless of skill, a well-fed soldier fought better than a starving one.

The warm soup went down smoothly, filling his stomach.

After a few rounds of this, the bowl was empty.

“Tastes good? Enjoying the fruits of your squad’s labor?”

Rem grumbled as he approached.

“Very much.”

“It’s good to eat everything. I’ve never seen a picky eater live long. We have one in our squad, don’t we?”

“For a picky eater, he keeps coming back alive.”

“Not for long.”

Rem, who was cursing a squad member, gathered his dishes and moved on.

It was time to clean up the dishes.

With his belly full of soup, bread, and dried meat, Encrid felt energized.

He pulled out an oiled cloth and carefully wiped his sword, then dried it with a dry cloth.

The new sword wasn’t made of famous steel or by a renowned smith, but it was quite usable.

The balance was good, and the blade was sharp.

It could easily cut through thick cloth armor or thin leather armor.

Finished with his sword maintenance, Encrid stepped outside the tent and saw Krys approaching.

Seeing Krys with a bundle in his hands, Encrid called out, “Big Eyes.”

Krys came over with the bundle.

“Here.”

The bundle contained the items Encrid had requested.

It was just as expected.

Five throwing knives with some impurities mixed in.

A lump of leather properly soaked in oil and a large needle.

“I barely managed to get the deer skin gloves.”

As Encrid rubbed the blade of a throwing knife, Krys explained.

Indeed, there was only a left-hand glove.

“Here.”

Krys handed back one coin.

“I counted the gloves as two coins.”

The guy really was money-minded.

Encrid knew this already.

He could argue and get the coin back, but it would waste time. It was better to focus on the task at hand.

Time wasn’t abundant.

The white marigolds were dried and wilted.

“You said you weren’t confessing. Fresh ones are impossible to get.”

Swindler.

Encrid nodded. This was within expectations.

In the middle of the battlefield, who could find ten fresh flowers?

“At least there are twelve.”

A somewhat honest swindler.

“And here.”

Krys handed over a small pouch.

Opening it, Encrid saw alum inside.

Krys probably planned to say he couldn’t find it if the deal fell through, then later claim he managed to get it.

Transparent tricks, but Encrid didn’t care.

He had what he needed.

“Good job.”

“But what are you really doing?”

Krys was really curious about what this kind squad leader was up to.

“Sewing and brewing some wine.”

So Krys tilted his head.

Why sewing suddenly? Why make wine?

“Well, okay.”

Krys left without further questions, and Encrid stowed the knives at his waist and threw the rest into his tent.

Then he walked purposefully.

His destination was already decided.

Walking without rest toward the outskirts of the barracks, a soldier noticed him and shouted.

“Hey, there! What are you doing? It’s the 444 Squad Leader! If you need to go, don’t go there.”

“Why?”

“Someone got bitten by a snake there yesterday while peeing. It’s a viper. Not deadly, but it makes you itch like crazy all day.”

“I’m in a hurry. I’ll be quick.”

“Well, I warned you.”

The soldier didn’t try hard to stop him and let Encrid go.

“He’ll be fine if he’s not unlucky.”

The soldier thought and looked away.

Encrid walked slowly, scanning his surroundings.

The outskirts of the barracks, designated as the latrine area.

Several pits and trees emitting a foul odor were surrounded by dry leaves.

Avoiding the foul-smelling pits, Encrid sprinkled alum around.

He squatted in a clear spot, picked up a fallen branch, and whittled the end with a throwing knife.

He sawed the branch with the knife, repeatedly scraping it and applying pressure to split the end.

After several cuts, the end of the branch split like a forked spear.

It looked like he was idly wasting time, but his intentions were different.

While working, Encrid kept an eye on the dry leaves.

After finishing the branch, it didn’t take long before rustling leaves indicated movement.

Snakes dislike alum. By spreading alum, he ensured the snake would avoid that area.

Catching snakes was something he had done occasionally.

A good viper fetched a high price.

A city drunk had once laughed and explained its use.

“You haven’t had snake wine? If not, don’t talk.”

A boisterous drunk.

Rustle.

A snake with a brown body and a properly shaped head slithered through the leaves.

Encrid pressed its neck with the end of the branch.

Thud.

He incorporated the stabbing technique he had learned.

The snake couldn’t escape.

He struck the snake’s head with the back of the knife, knocking it out.

“One down.”

He repeated this several times.

Sprinkling the remaining alum, he continued until no more snakes emerged.

It didn’t take long.

Before noon, he was done.

Encrid caught five snakes.

Holding each snake by the mouth, he pressed it against a leather pouch to extract the venom.

He repeated this process five times and put the remaining snakes in a thick leather bag.

“Were you constipated? I was about to check if you got bitten by a snake.”

The soldier from before looked genuinely concerned.

“Thanks for asking. I feel much better.”

Encrid muttered and quickly walked away.

* * *

The squad leader of the tent behind Encrid’s was taught sewing by his mother, who was a seamstress.

Having a knack for it, he learned by watching her.

He thought he couldn’t make a living sewing, so he enlisted.

And another thing.

“He loves booze.”

Encrid knew this about the sewing squad leader.

Encrid threw the lump of leather in front of the hungover squad leader.

“Need something?”

His face wasn’t great, but his sewing skills were good.

They had done this a few times before.

Even threatening to report his drinking to the company commander would get him to work, but then he’d do a sloppy job.

“Make some guards for my hands, knees, and elbows with this.”

“Why should I?”

The squad leader frowned. A natural reaction since they rarely interacted.

He didn’t have time to persuade him.

Even starting now, it would be tight to get it done before the battle.

“Got some hidden booze?”

The guy’s expression changed at those words, his eyebrows twitching.

He looked like an angry wild boar. He even resembled one.

A boar with delicate sewing skills.

“Make this into wine, and it’ll taste amazing.”

Encrid dropped the bag of snakes.

The snakes danced wildly on the leather.

“Snakes.”

The squad leader didn’t even look inside.

“Tasted snake wine before?”

The squad leader nodded as if it were obvious.

“Tastes amazing, right?”

Encrid hadn’t tasted it, but he knew from the boisterous drunk.

“Only those who’ve tasted it know how good it is.”

The squad leader nodded enthusiastically.

“Give you the snakes. Make the guards.”

“How did you know I sew well?”

“I heard the company commander mention it.”

It was a lie. The squad leader had drunkenly told him.

Not that it mattered.

“Damn, loose lips.”

Grumbling, the squad leader grabbed the needle.

A fair trade.

“Then, please.”

“Damn it, fine.”

The squad leader’s eyes remained glued to the wriggling bag of snakes.

He really liked snake wine.

Encrid returned to the tent, gathered the remaining items, and headed to the usual training spot with Rem.

No one spoke to him.

Being in the 444 Squad had its perks. They were often left alone.

Behind a small hill with few passersby.

Encrid, wearing the deer skin glove, crushed the white marigolds with a stone. He continued until the white petals turned dark green, then mixed in the snake venom.

Normally, this snake’s venom caused itching. But mixed with white marigold, it was different.

On the 77th iteration, he had been paralyzed by this venom and mocked by an enemy soldier.

That guy had laughed while explaining how to make it.

So, he had tried it a few times, and it worked well.

Crushing the flowers, mixing the venom, and spreading the sticky green substance on the throwing knife blade.

The knife shimmered in the sunlight, reflecting a dull green hue.

“All set.”

Bang! Bang!

“All squads assemble!”

Encrid knew the drill from the repeated days.

It was the order to gather for battle commands.