A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

Encrid was also accustomed to small-scale operations leading scouting squads.

Added to that was the experience accumulated over time.

There were days when they crossed through tall grasslands.

Days when they attacked the Gilpin Guild with their squad members.

And there were nights when they fought lycanthropes, wizards, and ambush units.

What is the most important thing?

What should a commander prioritize?

‘Awareness.’

It starts with knowing. Understanding what you are doing, and what will stem from what you are doing now.

You can’t know everything.

And you can’t explain everything with words.

But, there was a sense. It wasn’t instinct but a sense internalized through experience.

“Let’s go deeper.”

Encrid said. With that, Finn changed direction. She followed the leader’s words faithfully. Krais blinked and looked at his Platoon leader from the side.

What was he thinking? His expression was the same as usual. An unreadable calm.

Everyone’s pace quickened.

They couldn’t afford to be caught by the enemy.

“Can’t we just fight them? If we kill enough, they won’t follow.”

Rem grumbled, and Encrid stopped him.

“Don’t go.”

It was almost an order. That, in itself, was quite surprising.

Seeing Rem obeying so readily, how could one not be surprised?

“Ragna, just watch the back of the person in front of you. Don’t turn your head anywhere else.”

Ragna also followed Encrid’s words faithfully.

There was no need to say anything to Audin and Jaxon.

Just.

“Heh, you really seem like a commander now, brother.”

Audin said this.

Was it that their skills had changed, and thus their attitudes changed too?

“Really?”

Encrid still responded indifferently.

That attitude, those actions, that tone.

Nothing had changed.

That’s why they followed.

Even Krais felt his heart move first.

If even he, who always scrutinized everything, even checking if Krona was involved or not, acted like this.

There’s no need to mention the other platoon members.

Even Jaxon, who prided himself on keeping his emotions hidden, couldn’t conceal his expressions at times.

He showed a mixture of frustration, regret, and pity.

Thinking about it made him smile again.

Even though it wasn’t a situation to laugh.

‘Why does everything feel so stable?’

Despite Krais having considered everything thoroughly before deciding to execute this, what he felt in reality was different.

The platoon was more impressive than he had thought.

If the enemy had their own hawk’s talons or eyes, on this side, they had a crazy platoon.

They were a group with excellent mobility and combat power that only Knights could hope to counter.

That was Krais’s assessment.

So, what if they used this group as a guerrilla unit?

It would be a lie to say that no aide had ever suggested this idea.

The problem was.

“Will they listen?”

It was good that they fought well, but they were quite a handful.

A good sword is valuable, but using it can be challenging.

What is needed?

A focal point, something to control them.

And who would that be?

Having seen them up close, Krais knew the answer.

There was a recent event that clearly demonstrated the Platoon leader’s influence to Krais.

‘That sparring session.’

If Encrid, the Platoon leader, hadn’t appeared on the battlefield, exchanging swords and engaging in that sparring session, the Madmen Platoon would have been finished then.

And this battlefield would have turned into a mess.

At least, that was Krais’s perspective.

Encrid changed everything.

With just one sparring session.

He turned the winds of the battlefield into a tailwind.

‘As long as there is a focal point.’

A mad strike mission that fully utilized their mobility? The Madmen Platoon could handle it.

Krais didn’t have the expertise to judge their combat skills.

From the start, he was clueless about handling swords or weapons, so it was only natural.

However, he could gauge what the Madmen Platoon could do based on the facts and realities presented to him.

Moreover, knowing them well helped him understand their capabilities.

Thus, the first plan he devised was this.

If the enemy resorts to arrows,we’ll resort to footwork.

It wasn’t Krais’s intention, but even though he had shared only part of the facts with Encrid, Encrid now suggested going deeper in.

Was the Platoon leader aware of his intentions? He was curious and was about to ask.

“Shake them, hit them, and pull back. The enemy’s attention will be distracted by our main force’s movements, and while that happens, we might encounter the enemy’s guerrilla units.”

Encrid spoke first.

What did it mean that he was accustomed to small-scale operations?

What perspective had Encrid gained from his experience?

‘The intention is clear.’

Krais’s intention.

The enemy’s intention.

The tasks that needed to be done between these intentions.

There was something that the Madmen Platoon could do, more specifically.

So, it had to be done.

Would this ultimately affect the course of the war? The battle of the main force?

‘It doesn’t seem likely.’

But who knows? Krais might have a different perspective.

With big eyes, a penchant for revealing Krona, and a dream of opening a ladies’ salon to play with women until old age, his thought process seemed different.

“Is your dream still to open a salon?”

Even Encrid didn’t know why he was curious about this. He just wanted to ask.

It wasn’t intended as a mockery, of course.

Who was he to mock someone’s dreams?

“Yes, why ask? It’s obvious.”

A guy like that came up with this strategy? You never know with some people.

Anyway, Encrid’s platoon picked up speed.

They climbed and climbed over the mountains.

Eventually, even Finn was exhausted.

Andrew and Mac’s breathing became rough.

Krais was being half-carried by Audin, who was supporting him.

Even Encrid felt quite fatigued.

Finn, as a ranger, said this was an extremely grueling forced march.

They moved over ridges, descending onto flatter ground, and now walked across a plain.

They had gone entirely behind enemy lines.

It was an elite, small-scale operation utilizing the advantage of the terrain.

Of course, this was a tactic the enemy’s guerrilla units had used first.

“Let’s go.”

Rem, full of energy, moved ahead.

Everyone seemed more excited by the harsh schedule.

And in truth, so was Encrid.

What follows after a harsh march?

Battle.

A battle where blood would spill, flesh would be cut, and bones would be exposed.

“Go.”

Encrid said as he charged forward.

There were many gaps in the enemy’s rear.

The number of soldiers had increased to three, but it didn’t pose a problem.

As soon as they spotted Encrid and his team, a whistle blew.

At the same moment, Jaxon lunged to the side.

Ting.

He drew his sword and thrust it in one smooth motion as he stepped forward.

Thud.

One down.

He withdrew the sword and thrust again.

Thud.

Two down.

After killing two, he held his sword vertically in front of him, ready to defend.

Bang!

Watching Jaxon’s fight, one could think he killed people very easily.

Two enemy soldiers with holes in their necks fell, and after killing five or six more, Encrid’s unit retreated again.

After pretending to descend the ridge, they confirmed the location of the crossbow unit and retreated.

They ambushed and annihilated a few pursuing scouting units.

As night deepened, they hid deep in the mountains and set up camp to rest.

Adequate rest was essential.

“It’s nice to be close to a stream, but it’s a shame we can’t light a fire.”

Finn said, taking off her boots and shaking off the dirt.

It was spring.

A warm season, often called the season of magic.

Although the food situation became a bit rough, they didn’t have to worry about shivering in the cold.

Even so,

“Captain, I prepared for this.” said Rem, a barbarian who hated the cold, as he brought out heated leather.

Ragna lay down and slept wherever he found a spot.

Jaxon, adeptly, climbed up and slept on a thick tree branch.

They took turns standing watch, excluding Krais.

“I’ll take the watch.”

Andrew said, who had mostly been protecting Krais during the fighting.

He volunteered with a thoughtful look in his eyes.

They agreed.

If one has a burden on their mind, they can’t perform at their best.

There was still danger lurking in this strike operation.

That couldn’t be ignored.

It’s best to relieve oneself of mental burdens.

Mac did not oppose this either.

The next day, when another day had passed,Krais realized that Encrid definitely understood his intentions.

“Is it now?”

This was said after they crossed several mountain passes, confirming the enemy’s position again.

A trap, Krais had identified something the enemy had set up.

It was a terrain suitable for an ambush and a quick retreat.

There, they discovered an enemy supply unit stationed in a flat area nestled between undulating hills. Several supply wagons were visible.

If they entered and blocked the rear, there would be no easy way out.

There were other factors that confirmed it was a trap.

No crossbow units were deployed.

They were made to look like tempting prey.

Seeing this, Encrid asked, and Krais replied,

“Yes.”

Does the Madmen Platoon only possess mobility?

No. Their strength lies in their ability to strike a heavy blow at the enemy’s weak point.

With this single battle, they could create chaos in the enemy’s mind.

In Krais’s eyes, he could see the enemy’s reaction. It was prediction and foresight.

‘Then.’

The main force’s movements would also become significant.

“Let’s go.”

Encrid steeled himself.

No matter how many predictions one makes, the battlefield is like a fiery ball that can go in any direction.

If things go wrong, it can consume everything in flames.

So, is this like running into a fire carrying straw?

‘It doesn’t seem like it.’

The enemy might not know, but Encrid knew one thing.

The enemies underestimated them too much.

A soldier who killed a Giant? They likely thought that was all there was to them.

But that wasn’t enough.

Encrid led the charge. As they ran towards the supply wagons nestled between the hills, soldiers clumsily sorting through food and supplies reacted.

For a trap to be effective, it needed to be well-set.

Not by hiding the soldiers, but by showing them while being well-prepared.

The enemy soldiers appeared.

Among them, Encrid recognized a familiar face.

“You.”

He remembered this mustached man being with the Gray Hound.

Encrid watched him as the enemy soldiers came forward.

A spear thrust toward him.

Encrid’s hands moved.

Clang! Clang!

Two swift movements of his sword.

Ching, thud!

Two different sounds.

With the sword in his left hand, he deflected the spear, and with the sword in his right, he pierced the enemy soldier’s heart.

‘Frog would be horrified if he saw this.’

As Encrid withdrew his sword, the enemy’s gambeson turned red. The blade had pierced the cloth armor made of quilted cotton and wool.

Blood and bits of cloth stuck to the blade.

There was no need to worry about what was on the blade.

There would be more killing to do.

Ching.

Encrid sheathed the sword in his left hand again.

He could draw it again when needed.

With that, he stood holding one sword with both hands.

His posture, his vigor, his presence.

The enemy soldiers hesitated to approach.

“Good! Good!”

Next to him, Rem excitedly swung his axe.

Audin also smiled and drew his club.

Jaxon didn’t make a big show of it, swinging his sword casually at the oncoming enemies.

The most attention was on two people.

Encrid and Ragna.

“Hmm.”

Ragna positioned himself next to Encrid and began swinging his sword with force. Despite the extra swords at his waist, his movements were unhindered.

Ragna’s sword cut through the air, leaving an ominous trail.

A medium sword technique.

With a basic downward slash, he split an enemy soldier’s head open with a thud.

He then swung his drawn sword horizontally, beheading an enemy soldier who had stepped back.

Ragna’s feet moved swiftly.

In a fight between spears and swords, which has the advantage?

Naturally, the spear. But Ragna’s footwork erased that advantage.

As he moved quickly, the lives of enemy soldiers disappeared one by one.

A shadow fell over the faces of the enemies who had set the trap.

What is this?

With this level of skill, are they just a guerrilla unit?

No, isn’t this different from what was expected?

Is this right?

The number of enemy soldiers was over forty.

And they weren’t incompetent.

“Everyone, form up!”

In the midst of it all, the mustached man shouted.

The attitude of those who had underestimated Encrid and his group changed.

The mustached man stood directly in front of Encrid.

“You, you bastard.”

Encrid nodded as he looked at the angry man.

Since the man acknowledged him, there was no reason not to return the gesture.

“Yeah, uh, have you been well?”

The casual and familiar tone made the mustached man’s pupils dilate wildly.

His eyes were filled with boiling anger.

He looked like he was about to attack immediately. Encrid prepared himself, but the mustached man took a deep breath, calming himself down.

As expected, he wasn’t dealing with a simple opponent. He didn’t let his emotions dictate his actions. Instead of succumbing to anger, he steadied his breath.

So,

‘This makes the test all the more meaningful.’

A fight with two swords, would it have meaning against a skilled opponent?

Now it was time to find out.

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