A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

"Hey, King Eyeball."

Enkrid called out to Kraiss, who had been rambling on.

Blink.

The guy blinked at him, staring.

Why was he being consumed by anxiety?

It was simple. He had spent his entire life getting trampled on. One wrong step meant either dying or suffering a wound that was close enough.

'I've heard there are people out there who would go for their own ass if things went south.'

Scratch. Enkrid scratched his cheek.

The world does not welcome the untainted.

The pure are bound to be stained sooner or later.

Once you spill ink on a blank canvas, it can never be undone. The same went for Kraiss.

To avoid the worst-case scenario, he always predicted the worst.

Because he constantly envisioned disaster, his mind shut down when actually cornered. It happened the first time he froze up on the battlefield and nearly got himself killed.

Enkrid knew this because he had experienced it firsthand.

This bastard’s brain had short-circuited again.

Of course, it was all just speculation. If he was wrong, then so be it, but if he was right, it would make persuading Kraiss a lot easier.

"Shut up. If we fight, we fight. If we die, we die."

Dunbakel, who had been listening from the side, spoke. Her tone and demeanor were blunt and to the point.

It must have rubbed him the wrong way. She was talking as if they were all going to drop dead any second.

Well, that wasn't entirely wrong.

People died all the time in battle, taking blind strikes from stray blades.

Enkrid knew that well.

He could die, but he also might not.

Not everything went the way one wanted, but he could at least try to make things go as planned.

For that, he needed King Eyeball.

More specifically, he needed King Eyeball when he wasn’t malfunctioning.

"That bastard’s possessed. Smack him, knock some sense into him."

Lying on his side like a caterpillar, Rem muttered from his cot.

Winter turned barbarians into caterpillars. It was a sight Enkrid saw every year.

A reasonable suggestion, but unnecessary violence.

He had already tried.

Even a good slap across the battlefield hadn’t knocked sense back into the guy.

Next to him, Audin clasped his hands together.

"Pray. If you pray, everything will be fine."

Obviously, praying wasn’t going to fix this.

Even if he called on divine power, it wouldn’t snap Kraiss out of his current state.

Fortunately, Enkrid already knew what to do.

His lips parted.

"Hey, if shit hits the fan, let’s just run."

"...What?"

Kraiss, blinking in bewilderment, stopped shaking and stared at him. His trembling legs came to a halt.

"If things go south, it’s not like it’d be hard to pluck you out and make a run for it. And that’s not even counting Rem or the others. Do you really think the rest of them are going to die here?"

What he needed to give Kraiss wasn’t fear but reassurance.

The fingers hovering near his lips, debating whether to bite his nails, dropped down.

Kraiss turned his head.

His gaze swept from Rem to Ragna, then to Jaxon and Audin.

No matter how he thought about it, it didn't seem like they were going to die.

And then, there was Teresa.

Even inside the barracks, she wore her iron mask and muttered about being a wandering knight. Would a half-giant like her go down so easily?

As for Dunbakel, well... she might die.

"One beastwoman croaking doesn’t concern you, does it?"

Enkrid’s words slipped in at just the right moment. As Kraiss reevaluated the worst-case scenario, his scrambled mind started to reset.

His vision cleared. The fog obscuring his thoughts dissipated.

His trembling legs steadied, his restless hands stilled. His blinking eyes returned to their usual gleam.

His erratic pupils settled, focusing again. At the same time, his soft brown eyes curved into a smirk.

"Ah, true. Still, Dunbakel, you should try not to die. Put in some effort."

He said it with a grin.

"Should I just kill you first?"

Dunbakel calmly pulled out a claw.

"Rem, the beastwoman’s bullying me."

"And?"

Kraiss was back to normal.

King Eyeball Kraiss whined at Rem about how he was being treated unfairly, but when Rem, the caterpillar, twitched as if to rise, Kraiss immediately scurried behind Enkrid.

"Captain, aren’t you going to the war council? Graham’s going to lose his damn mind."

"Yeah, I’m going."

"Let’s go together."

"Sure."

Leaving Kraiss behind might mean getting claw marks carved into his face.

With a small sigh, Enkrid took Kraiss with him and left.

Among those who remained, Audin was the first to let out a chuckle.

"The company commander brothers are truly fascinating people."

When had he realized that praying alone didn’t solve everything?

It wasn’t during his time as an inquisitor.

It had all started here—on the battlefield, in the barracks. With one person.

A man who did not retreat and who knew how to look after those around him.

His blade was not wielded for himself alone.

‘What does it mean to be a knight?’

What does it mean to be a priest? To be a servant of God?

A sudden revelation pulled Audin into deep contemplation.

Among those present, not a single one was agonizing over the battle or war that lay ahead.

Someone attacks? Then you fight.

That was the extent of how most of them used their heads.

And so, Rem, the caterpillar, quietly dozed off.

Ragna drew his sword again.

It wasn’t as if he had seen their captain throwing himself into training like a madman.

All he had seen was Enkrid soothing Kraiss with a few words.

That was all.

And yet, he felt something.

Something he couldn't quite put into words made his chest itch.

Everyone was lost in thought.

Teresa, for one, felt a sudden surge of battle lust.

‘I want to fight.’

It didn’t necessarily have to be Enkrid right now.

The giant’s blood in her veins led her toward the battlefield. The changing air prickled at every hair on her body.

"Well, whatever."

Dunbakel still seemed as thoughtless as ever, but oddly enough, that felt like a good thing at the moment.

Jaxon remained expressionless as always.

Of course, on the inside, he silently agreed with Audin’s words.

‘A fascinating man.’

In the corner of the barracks, Esther had slipped in unnoticed, lying low and observing everything.

Of everyone present, she was the one most astonished by Enkrid’s actions.

With a single sentence, he had restored a man's sanity.

If what he had spoken just now wasn’t magic, then what else could be considered a spell?

Chirp.

Esther licked her front paw. A habit from shifting into a leopard. She stretched out her limbs and lay down, letting the warmth of her fur envelop her in comfort.

***

The shift in the atmosphere was something every member of the company could feel.

No, it wasn’t just the company— the entire barracks sensed it.

But that changed nothing. The ones who were going to run had already fled long ago.

The moment Enkrid stepped into the war council room, that much was obvious.

"Looks like some seats are empty."

Graham, the battalion commander, had restructured the Heavy Infantry Company, turning it into an independent company under his direct command.

In exchange, he appointed Palto as the new commander of the 1st Company, with separate appointments for the 2nd and 3rd Companies.

Because of this, Venzance was now the 3rd Company Commander.

Since they had recruited more people recently, there was enough flexibility in the organization.

Enough, in fact, to divert the core of the Heavy Infantry Company into an independent force.

So when Venzance, newly appointed as company commander, walked in, the first thing he said was:

"Where is everyone?"

Over half of the people from the previous meetings were missing.

"They ran."

"What?"

"They packed up their valuables and fled in the middle of the night."

Palto answered. As the officer currently in charge of internal security, he was well aware of the situation.

"You let them go?"

Venzance asked, his expression darkening. Just letting them go? Shouldn’t they have been hunted down and dealt with?

Abandoning the domain in its time of crisis— these nobles were scum.

And they were just allowed to leave?

Venzance lived by the motto: A grudge should be repaid tenfold.

At his words, Palto’s eyes narrowed.

Was he questioning how he handled things?

The air was already tense. A single spark could set it ablaze.

But just as the atmosphere was reaching its peak, a bright voice cut through the tension.

"Of course they should be let go."

The voice came from behind Enkrid. Everyone’s attention shifted to Kraiss.

Kraiss had no interest in wasting time on pointless arguments or debates.

‘The Captain said he’d save me if things went to hell, anyway.’

There was no reason to fear for his life. At the very least, his safety was guaranteed.

Not just by the captain—he had backup escape plans of his own.

The only reason he had panicked earlier was because he kept imagining the worst-case scenario.

‘That was a ridiculous thought anyway.’

Like, what if dozens of wolf-beasts were guarding the escape tunnel he had secretly prepared?

Or what if a spy from the Black Blades was stationed there under secret orders to kill him?

‘It was all nonsense.’

At the time, the unease had clouded his mind.

But now? Now he was fine.

His head was working at full capacity again.

"Do you really think those three will join forces?"

"What?"

In the middle of the discussion about the runaway nobles, Kraiss suddenly thrust the real issue onto the table.

Then, as if nothing had happened, he smoothly continued the conversation from before.

Enkrid thought Kraiss had an exceptional way with words.

"If they were a destabilizing factor from within, it was better to get rid of them early. Marcus wanted to throw them all out ages ago. Didn’t you know that?"

Venzance didn’t. He wasn’t the sharpest mind in the room.

Loyal and relentless, yes. But not exactly a tactician.

"That’s true."

Graham nodded. He looked exhausted— probably hadn’t slept well for days. His gaze settled on Kraiss.

"You’re with the Independent Company?"

"Kraiss."

Enkrid’s Independent Company was famous in many ways, but what stood out the most was its sheer combat ability.

Kraiss, by contrast, was a face known only to those who paid close attention.

Graham was at least vaguely aware of him.

But up until now, he hadn’t given Kraiss much thought.

Yet just now... what had he said?

Graham’s interest shifted toward him.

Kraiss spoke in an even tone.

"Azpen won’t make a move right away. The defenses at Green Pearl have been reinforced for years. If they try to tear down the fortifications one by one, the losses will be too great."

"But the battalion commander stationed at Green Pearl is already calling for urgent reinforcements."

Kraiss naturally stepped forward, standing beside Enkrid.

Marcus was absent. The situation was already very, very, very bad.

To avoid the absolute worst outcome, Kraiss had to do his part.

That was why he was here.

At the very least, he needed to know what the military leadership was thinking.

‘Though it seems like they aren’t thinking much at all.’

It wasn’t that Graham wasn’t trying.

He had done his best— rallying forces, keeping morale up, quelling rumors, increasing patrols, and sending out scouting parties.

Any soldier spreading dangerous talk was beaten with a club on the spot.

Even now, improvised squads were monitoring the area.

Beyond that, all they could do was wait.

"Of course the Green Pearl commander is calling for help— Azpen is right at their doorstep. But Azpen isn’t the biggest problem right now. And besides, I don’t think those three are on good terms with each other."

Somehow, the meeting had shifted, with Kraiss taking the lead in the discussion.

Enkrid pulled up a chair and sat down next to Venzance.

"What’s his deal?" Venzance asked.

Enkrid crossed his arms.

"Kraiss."

"Wasn’t he just some guy selling goods on the side?"

To Venzance, Kraiss was just a soldier who made a little extra cash through shady deals.

"Yeah."

Venzance frowned, looking unimpressed.

Fine. He’d listen to what the guy had to say.

That was the usual reaction.

Graham and Palto, on the other hand, seemed deep in thought.

They were at least capable of keeping up.

"If those three aren’t close, that means they’re watching each other. In that case, we should make ourselves look bigger than we are."

Now was the time to show their hand.

Were they cowering in fear from the Black Blades, the cult, and Azpen?

If so, they’d just become prey for the ones creeping in.

But if they sharpened their fangs— if they revealed the hidden blades they were holding—

"They won’t strike so easily."

"And what do we gain from buying time like that?"

Kraiss blinked at Graham’s question. Then, he smiled.

His dimples deepened, and the corners of his eyes crinkled— the same smile that had made countless women cry.

"We get real combat experience. And we might even get to take the head of their key strategist."

What was Kraiss thinking?

Enkrid found himself agreeing with him.

Real battle experience.

There were already soldiers who had been hardened through intense training.

Their force wasn’t weak.

Marcus had scoffed at the idea of the Black Blades’ forces gathering because he thought taking down the Tar Nine Boars would only be a matter of time.

But among their ranks, there were plenty who had never seen real combat.

The Border Guard Standing Force had been trained under Enkrid’s command.

They had been pushed to their limits through brutal training.

Kraiss knew that better than anyone.

The only issue was their lack of battlefield experience.

There were veterans who had survived battles with Azpen, sure.

There were also mercenaries who had joined them, and soldiers who enlisted after hearing of Enkrid’s Independent Company’s exploits.

But many among the recruits had little to no experience in actual warfare.

And this wasn’t a battlefield where people survived easily.

‘We need to know our weaknesses.’

Only by identifying their flaws could they mask them and fight with their strengths.

Like swordplay, it was one thing to understand this principle, but another to put it into practice.

Not many people could think this clearly in a situation like this.

Kraiss went a step further than most.

If they lacked experience, they would gain it.

If they had weaknesses, they would eliminate them.

"We divide the forces into two shifts: a Day Battalion and a Night Battalion. The day troops fight while the night troops rest. Then the night troops fight while the day troops rest. They rotate, but they never commit to full-scale engagements."

"...So you’re suggesting small-scale skirmishes?"

Graham asked, his tone serious. Though maybe it was just exhaustion.

"If we dive into a full-scale battle immediately, the losses will be massive. We need to prepare first."

Kraiss placed his hand on the table.

His fingers extended, pointing at a section of the military map.

"We fight here. Then we retreat here."

He was simply laying out the thoughts in his head. There was no hesitation in his words.

Enkrid, too, found himself drawn in.

He also realized what his role would be.

There was no place for the Independent Company in small skirmishes.

Not exactly.

"The Fairy Company and the Mad Platoon will operate separately."

Kraiss turned to Enkrid at the end.

"There’s one last thing, Captain. Something you’ll have to do."

Enkrid nodded.

Whatever it was— whether it meant cutting down beasts by the dozens or facing an army alone— he was ready.