Eternally Regressing Knight - Chapter 97: Is He Really Okay?

They reached the campsite just as night was falling.

Thanks to the moonlight, it wasn’t too dark.

Somewhere along the gravel path, the surroundings had changed to fields.

As if to prove that winter was ending, there were hints of green beginning to show on the ground.

Of course, at night, they shimmered with a purplish hue.

‘The moon is bright.’

Encrid looked up at the moon above and shoved the small stone he had been holding into his pants pocket.

His right arm muscles trembled slightly.

They had walked for more than half a day to get here, and he’d spent the entire journey practicing the Hidden Knife Technique from Torres.

His forearm muscles were tingling with soreness.

Clenching and unclenching his hand a few times, Encrid knew it would feel better by tomorrow.

Having trained his body rigorously with the Isolation Technique, he had a natural sense of muscle recovery.

Or perhaps, a brief rest would be enough.

“You spent the whole time fiddling with that rock. Weird guy, really.”

This was the first thing Fin said when they arrived. Encrid had sensed her glancing at him the entire way.

“Just a habit, to keep my hands busy.”

Encrid answered offhandedly as he surveyed the campsite.

Unlike typical campsites, there was no fire, no tents set up.

To be precise, it was more of a burrow than a campsite.

Several burrows with holes bored into the ground were visible.

“Pick a hole you like, crawl in, and cover it with camouflage netting. If you want a cozy night, a heated pelt would be nice, but I don’t have any to spare since they’re rare.”

One of the squad members brought over a large canvas. It was a tawny shade that blended with the ground well enough to almost hide the holes entirely.

‘A heated pelt, huh.’

Encrid had one in his pack.

‘I wonder if Esther is doing alright.’

Leaving her behind had been hard, especially after she’d hissed in displeasure.

She’d looked none too happy.

But he couldn’t bring her along, so he’d left her behind.

“It’s cold, so you two share a burrow. Since you’re the newbie, you can bunk with me,” Fin said.

The one she pointed at was Encrid.

Encrid’s pack held a heated pelt, and the burrows didn’t look particularly spacious.

For two small people, it would be fine.

For example, if it were Esther, she could easily fit beside him.

But although Encrid wasn’t as large as Audin, his build wasn’t small either.

In other words, it would be uncomfortable.

Not to mention, the other person was a woman. It would be even more uncomfortable.

‘If anyone found out, they’d raise a fuss.’

Seeing how fast rumors spread within the squad, it felt like someone was always watching, waiting to talk.

Sure enough, Torres was staring at him from the side.

“I’m fine. I’ve got my own gear.”

Fin looked slightly disappointed.

“What about me? Do I sleep alone, then?” Torres raised his hand, interrupting.

“What kind of platoon leader in the Border Guard shows up empty-handed? Should’ve brought a squad member along.”

“Why am I the squad member?”

“The burrow is cramped.”

At those words, Torres looked at Encrid once, then down at himself.

He seemed to decide his frame was, objectively, smaller.

“Strange.”

Nonetheless, he just got another rebuke.

As Fin organized the squad and prepared her designated burrow, Torres came over to Encrid.

“Why do I feel kind of offended?”

Why was he asking here?

“Tired, maybe?”

“Is that really it? Huh? The alluring platoon leader who even won over the company captain—no, now it’s lieutenant—do you really think that?”

“Yes.”

“You bastard.”

Torres turned around, grinning playfully.

The burrow wasn’t that small.

It was dug at an angle from the ground, with cloth laid down to keep moisture from seeping in.

He crawled in, covered the entrance with the camouflage net, and found it surprisingly cozy.

Then he stepped out, took out his heated pelt, wrapped it around himself, and went back inside. It was comfortable enough to sleep in.

“You’re well-prepared. Want some?” one of the scouts offered him some jerky as he approached.

“No, I have my own.”

He’d tasted some jerky before and liked it so much that he went back to get more.

“A secret family recipe from my mother,” the soldier had explained with a modest smile.

That soldier’s mother ran a small eatery tucked behind an inn, and the food was excellent.

The main dish was any meat basted in their special sauce, and the flavor was impressive.

It was a popular spot for grilled skewers, with high praise from the locals.

‘I’ll have to get more when I go back.’

It was so good that he’d asked Kryss to get some for him regularly.

Taking out his jerky, he popped it into his mouth.

The spicy-sweet sauce swirled around his mouth, with a certain tenderness he couldn’t quite place.

Encrid had no talent for cooking.

So whenever he ate something like this, he was always amazed.

Encrid’s only talent was wielding a sword.

Although he had learned various skills as a mercenary, he had never mastered any of them.

It was always just the sword and his dream of knighthood.

He chewed through a few pieces of jerky, and as he lay down, drowsiness swept over him.

A land of monsters and beasts.

As he was drifting off, Enri’s warning came to mind, but the first night in the front yard of Cross Guard passed without incident.

He thought he might die during the night.

But nothing happened.

Being the first night, he was even excused from night watch.

Before dawn, Encrid woke up reflexively.

He stepped outside and removed his shirt. The cold air wrapped around him, refreshing his senses.

Awakened, his mind became the driving force to move his body.

Encrid, wearing only his pants, began performing the Isolation Technique.

Starting with pushing his hands against the ground while lifting his knees up toward his abdomen, he proceeded through a series of movements.

“…What are you doing?”

The last person on watch, leaning against a tree between the camp’s burrows, asked.

“Morning training.”

“You do know where we are, right?”

“The front yard of Cross Guard.”

“And you’re doing this, knowing that?”

None of the scouts around here knew Encrid.

So it was understandable for them to be bewildered.

After putting his body through rigorous training, Encrid drew his sword and began swinging it.

By then, Fin had woken up and was watching him, as were all the other squad members.

Except for Torres, everyone had the same expression: ‘What the hell is he doing?’

“Is he really alright?”

Fin muttered to herself.

Torres, who was wearing a thick cloak instead of a blanket, commented as he approached.

“That’s just how he is.”

“Does he really do this every day?”

Fin recalled Encrid’s physique. It was only yesterday, after all.

The memory was still vivid.

Sculpted muscles, strong legs, and the heavy…thing in between.

‘Ah, that’s something you can’t train.’

Remembering Encrid’s body, more than that, she realized why he looked like that.

Living here took a toll on one’s body, and naturally, they all developed a certain level of physical endurance.

But to stand out among them, what must one do?

Live twice as intensely as everyone else.

Like that.

But knowing this didn’t make it any easier.

“Will he even have the strength to fight monsters if we run into them this afternoon?”

Watching his routine, Fin thought he looked like he’d have muscle cramps any moment.

“He practiced with me over ten rounds after doing all that and then marched all day.”

Torres casually mentioned that he had kept up with Encrid’s stamina, too, though subtly.

Fin’s gaze remained fixed on Encrid.

Why?

With each swing of his sword, it felt like he was putting his entire soul into it.

“He’s insane.”

That’s what she said, but Torres noticed there was no malice in her tone.

Only admiration and growing respect.

‘What did he even do?’

Torres felt like he was witnessing the charm of this enigmatic lieutenant.

All Encrid had done was bathe, walk, sleep, wake up, and train in the morning.

And yet, it seemed the scouting squad leader in this harsh land was already captivated.

‘Did he win over the company captain like this too?’

Then again, was it really all down to physical traits?

Or perhaps it was the impression he left by the river?

Torres’s idle thoughts quickly faded.

The intrigue with Encrid was brief.

“Let’s go eat.”

The sun was rising. Fin’s scout squad couldn’t light a fire recklessly.

Still, they didn’t subsist on jerky and dried fruit every meal.

From the campsite, it was half a day’s journey east to Cross Guard.

A short walk to the northwest led to a small forest.

That was their “dining hall.”

“Are you coming to eat? If we’re lucky, we might catch a rabbit.”

Fin’s squad was a total of eight.

Not a large number.

They ate like hunters, obtaining food locally.

With two more joining them, their meal routine remained unchanged.

“There’s a stream inside where you can wash up, too,” Fin said, looking at Encrid.

“Can we wash our clothes as well?”

Encrid asked, his tone casual.

Though he was technically her equal as an independent platoon leader now.

In reality, things were a bit different.

While scouting platoon leaders with the title “Ranger” were akin to a rank between lieutenant and sergeant, he was closer to Torres in status.

The same as a Border Guard platoon leader’s special designation.

“It’s a soldier’s duty to wash, eat, and keep gear in order when time allows.”

It was unusual for only two reinforcements to be sent, and that they were both of platoon leader rank.

Fin thought about it but didn’t probe too deeply.

After all, she was just a Ranger on the front lines.

Reaching the small forest to the northwest, they made camp by the stream and gathered dry branches.

During this, they encountered two beasts, but Encrid merely watched.

“Kieeeek!”

Beasts were mutated animals.

In any form, they were animals that had become monstrous.

So, something like this could happen.

It was a deer beast.

Its skin was peeling in places like it had some contagious disease, and its skin was bluish.

With its beast-like blank, black eyes, the deer stared at Encrid.

Thwip, thwip, thwip.

The sound came from behind.

Three scouts simultaneously drew their short bows and fired arrows. Two arrows struck the deer beast in the forehead, one in the neck.

Piercing the skull meant death, whether beast, monster, or human.

The deer beast collapsed, letting out a final cry.

Its knees buckled, and its head hit the ground. Three scouts approached, nudging it with their toes to confirm it was dead, then retrieved their arrows.

One of them clicked his tongue.

“Damn, it broke.”

The deer beast’s fall had snapped the arrow lodged in its neck.

‘They seem experienced.’

What if they fought scouts and excluded close combat?

Winning wasn’t certain.

Close-range combat meant victory.

‘Against multiple enemies, though.’

It wouldn’t be easy.

After all, this wasn’t just any unit; it had survived in a land of beasts and monsters.

“Aren’t you supposed to be an advanced soldier? Have you hunted before?”

“A bit.”

He had learned from Enri and picked up skills while mercenary work across the continent.

Although not particularly skilled in hunting.

His talents lay elsewhere.

Just then, one of the scouts who had gone ahead returned.

“Damn it. Ghouls. Should we move camp?”

“How many?”

“I counted up to ten before more started appearing, so I backed off.”

The appearance of ghouls. Not common, but not unheard of here.

After setting up a fire and preparing for their stay, ten ghouls were a tough match for scouts.

Especially since ghouls in this area were fast.

It was more than a few arrows could handle; close combat would be inevitable.

A quick glance showed three scouts with short bows.

So how to handle a group of ghouls?

Evasion was the wisest option.

“Damn it.”

While Fin muttered in frustration, Encrid stepped forward.

“Which direction?”

He asked.

An odd question, his gaze turned to the scout who had seen the ghouls.

The scout blinked.

Unclear of the question’s intent.

“The ghouls,” Torres explained, stepping in.

Torres had gauged Encrid’s ability.

Above all, Encrid’s specialty was in using a greatsword.

Compared to Torres’s expertise with a dagger, he was better suited for monster hunting.

Besides, hadn’t Torres seen him take down the man-faced hound and harpy?

“These ghouls aren’t easy to deal with,” Fin warned, sensing Encrid’s intent.

“You won’t have to worry.”

Torres stood next to Encrid.

“I just have to handle support, right?”

When Torres asked,

“Just hold them down,” Encrid replied. He intended to let none escape.

“Alright, then.”

Encrid was ready to prove himself.

Fin and the remaining scouts exchanged glances.

Combat was their routine.

But ten agile ghouls were no easy match.

One scratch from those poisoned claws would mean the end for them.

“Hey.”

Fin tried to dissuade him, but Encrid was already sniffing the air.

‘Rotten stench.’

With his heightened sense of smell, he could tell roughly which direction the ghouls were coming from.

Could this make hunting easier?

Perhaps tracking prey by scent and sound would work.

Either way.

Now was the time to cut down ghouls.

Encrid pushed off the ground.

“Hey, wait!”

Behind him, Fin, Torres, and the scouts rushed after him.

There was something about Encrid’s attitude and movements.

Everything made them want to see what he’d do next.

So, whether he lived or died, succeeded or failed.

They just had to see for themselves.

To see what this guy, who’d been showing off his physique since morning, was really made of.

As expected, Encrid did his job.

And Fin’s eyes widened in astonishment at what she saw.