A Knight Who Eternally Regresses-Chapter 348

"I can’t go."

Right before the group was divided into those leaving and those staying, Kraiss was the first to refuse. Enkrid hadn’t planned on taking ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) him in the first place.

"There’s too much work left here. Just don’t go getting yourself beaten up somewhere because I’m not around."

He said it with such confidence that Enkrid instinctively felt the need to nod in agreement.

"Yeah, getting beaten up is best avoided."

Saying it out loud almost felt like a renewed commitment.

Kraiss took a step back.

"Why are you looking at me like that? You’re gonna hit me, aren’t you?"

"Why would I?"

He had simply answered with genuine concern.

"Either way, I can’t go. The outposts need maintenance, and while I trust Leona, you should never let a merchant handle the warehouse alone—they’ll pick it clean."

That was precisely why Kraiss couldn't leave.

From laying down roads to dealing with those insufferable fools who called themselves nobles—when they were little more than privileged idiots—his plate was full.

Even if he had ten bodies, it wouldn’t be enough. But somehow, he still managed to do everything.

Which meant he also took all the rest he needed and met with all the people he wanted to see.

For the past ten days, he’d been seen going on what looked like dates with Nurat.

Nurat, the Black woman who served as the adjutant and personal guard of Garrett, the commander of the Green Pearl garrison.

Kraiss had first contacted Garrett, tying a letter to a crow’s leg, requesting reinforcements. He had said there was something important to discuss with her.

But was this discussion really about walking through the market and having meals together?

There had even been nights he hadn’t returned to his lodging. That meant only one thing.

Of course, none of that was Enkrid’s business.

"Commander Garrett is considering retirement, so a successor needs to be appointed."

Kraiss had decided to take control of the city’s operations.

His ambition was evident.

So, he’s set his eyes on krona.

It was obvious.

Kraiss wanted to make the city rich.

And when that happened, the excess wealth—the scraps that fell from the table—would be more than enough to gorge himself on.

At the same time, he wasn’t going to pass up the chance to profit from the civil war brewing on the horizon.

That was Kraiss’s endgame.

In practice, he had already started by setting up outposts and taking an interest in the various herbs and poisons found in the surrounding swamps.

Which is why—

"Ugh, my nerves are on edge, sending you off on such a long journey," Shinar sighed.

There was no one better than her when it came to exploring the swamps, identifying useful plants, and separating medicine from poison.

"Is that so?"

Her face was as expressionless as ever, her beauty doll-like.

"It was a joke."

"I know."

"I thought you wouldn’t."

So, up until now, all of it had not been a joke?

No, it had all been jokes.

There was no point in trying to distinguish them.

Fairy humor was difficult to get used to.

Enkrid shook his head internally.

Besides Shinar, Audin and Teresa were also staying behind.

"There are still too many soldiers left to train, Brother," Audin said with a gentle smile. But that wasn’t the whole reason.

Enkrid instinctively felt that Audin didn’t want to go to the capital—specifically, the royal palace.

Not that it was something to question. Enkrid had always respected his unit’s choices.

He didn’t care to know the reason behind Audin’s reluctance.

"I’ll stay and help too," Teresa said.

At some point, she had practically glued herself to Audin.

No soldier was foolish enough to call them the Giant Siblings to their faces, but the nickname suited them.

"Do as you like," Enkrid said, ending the discussion.

"The weather’s dreary," grumbled the barbarian brute, Rem.

Meanwhile—

"I have some business to take care of in the capital," Jaxon stated bluntly.

"Do as you please," Enkrid replied.

A sneaky stray cat with obvious ulterior motives.

"To the capital? That’ll take about six months."

On horseback, assuming favorable weather and sticking to the main roads, the trip should take no more than fifteen to twenty days.

Where the hell did six months come from?

Among them was a lazy swordsman who, if left alone, would likely get lost, wander aimlessly, and inadvertently create his own legend with nothing but a single blade.

"A journey, huh? A rare delight in an otherwise mundane life," mused the shapeshifting mage, who had taken a female form today—for whatever reason.

"Think we’ll get a lot of fights? I hope so," said the beastkin warrior.

Officially part of the escort team, but with no interest in who they were escorting. In fact, they outright wished for as many ambushes as possible, right in front of their client.

Subtlety was clearly not in their vocabulary.

"Hiiiiing."

And then there was the wild horse with heterochromatic eyes, carrying the blood of a demonic beast.

"Are you all serious?"

The whip-wielding bodyguard finally spoke.

He took a long look at each of them, his face growing increasingly grim.

They were supposed to escort their master, cutting through dangerous territory.

There was no room for carelessness.

Marcus had gone so far as to lead a unit ahead as a decoy.

Yet, at the last minute, he had vanished, claiming urgent business the night before.

Disloyal bastard.

The bodyguard cursed Marcus internally.

But Crang dismissed it with a wave of his hand.

"That man’s a busy one," he said, defending Marcus.

Without Marcus, how were they supposed to reach the capital?

They should at least borrow his escort troops.

If not, they would have to rely on the arrangements Marcus had scattered across the region—seeds planted long ago, barely sprouting into saplings.

For example, the Language Restoration Guild.

That organization was one of the many seeds Marcus had sown.

But even that wasn’t an option.

Damn it.

The Language Restoration Guild had no power base in Border Guard. At least in terms of military strength, they were virtually useless.

Hadn’t someone mentioned that a crazy Frokk had been beating down every combat-capable individual in the area?

What kind of nonsense is that?

What lunatic Frokk would go around doing that?

There were plenty of oddballs in the world, just as there were peculiar Frokk, but for one to be conveniently here, making life difficult?

Are they bound by an oath?

That was a reasonable suspicion.

The fact that Enkrid’s Mad Platoon was assigned to the escort mission was, in theory, a good thing.

It should have been reassuring.

Yet—

This feels wrong.

Years of experience as a bodyguard had honed his instincts to a razor’s edge.

And those instincts were screaming at him.

These people weren’t normal.

If he relied solely on them, they’d all be doomed.

Every single one of them radiated unease.

Why was it going to take half a year to reach the royal palace? Why did they seem utterly indifferent to their escort duty?

And why the hell were they grinning while estimating how many attackers they might face?

"Alright, everyone knows how to ride, right?"

Enkrid’s voice cut through the group.

"No carriage?" Rem asked.

"A carriage would make us too obvious! We already have to stay out of sight, and you want a carriage?"

The whip-wielding bodyguard exploded in frustration.

Rem, in response, dug a finger into his ear.

"Did this guy eat something bad? Why’s he screaming at dawn?"

This bastard...

"Enough."

Just as the bodyguard was about to actually lose his temper, Crang intervened.

His eyes gleamed with sharp interest.

These people were... unique.

Kraiss had already picked up on it, and Enkrid had sensed it from the start. But Crang—he possessed insight.

Which meant he had an eye for people.

Not in some magical, omniscient way—he wasn’t peering into souls or anything absurd like that.

But—

"They’re interesting."

He could tell.

None of them were ordinary.

In fact, the rumors might have underestimated them.

"Mad Platoon."

Whoever had named them deserved an award.

Because those four syllables described them perfectly.

Even with his background in poetry and literature, Crang couldn't find a better phrase.

"An uncontrollable force."

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

It was obvious at a glance—they didn’t move at anyone’s command.

So then, why had they gathered here?

To protect themselves? That was nonsense.

"Forget the damn carriage. Focus. This is a mission. The person in front of us needs to reach the capital safely."

Enkrid’s tone was firm.

Rem looked over at the two individuals in question.

"Those two?"

"I am a bodyguard," the whip-wielding escort growled.

He was struggling to stay composed today.

At first, he had managed to keep his emotions in check.

But his lord was acting strangely.

And then the situation had spiraled into something completely outside the realm of common sense.

Everything about it was unsettling.

And he didn’t like it.

It all built up until he was too tense—too rattled.

Losing his cool here could mean failing his duty.

If things went south, he might have to grab his lord and flee alone.

That thought alone made it clear—he couldn’t afford to lose focus.

Taking a deep breath, then another, he steadied himself.

He wasn’t just some rookie.

And then—

"Bodyguard?"

"Not a guide?"

"Who?"

The triple echo of voices came from a gray-haired bastard, a droopy-eyed blonde, and a psychotic beastkin.

Oh, these little shits—

"Enough."

Enkrid put a stop to it.

And they listened.

Without question.

Crang’s eyes gleamed even brighter.

They can be controlled?

These wild, chaotic, unpredictable individuals?

How? Through authority? Strength?

No—

Influence.

Just as he had been drawn to Enkrid, so had they.

They respected his words.

They followed his will.

Enkrid was the key to their control.

Ah.

Crang saw it then—the process, not just the result.

If these people had been lesser, they would have dismissed Enkrid as nothing more than a lunatic.

To ordinary eyes, his actions and words were incomprehensible.

Standing beside him was even more difficult.

He was a difficult person.

Not someone you could casually mingle with.

But at the same time, ignoring him was impossible.

No matter what he did, he made you notice him.

His very existence had a way of unsettling others, making them question themselves.

Throughout his life, countless people must have passed by Enkrid.

Some had likely mocked him.

Some had ignored him.

And some had begrudgingly respected his perseverance.

But none had stayed.

Because they couldn’t.

So then, who were the ones who had stayed?

Insane bastards.

Or—individuals with exceptional talent in some aspect.

People who wouldn’t break under his presence.

"Interesting."

Crang murmured the word aloud.

"See? Told you he’d say it’s fun. Guy’s got an eye for people," Rem said, casually draping an arm over Crang’s shoulder.

A completely inappropriate gesture toward a future king.

A noble wouldn’t have just taken offense—they would have had his arm cut off.

But Rem didn’t care about that sort of thing.

And neither did Crang.

Before the bodyguard could have a fit, Crang waved him off.

"Crang," he said.

"Good. I’ll protect you. Let’s go."

The past few days had been bright and clear, but today, the sky was overcast.

Heavy gray clouds smothered the morning sun.

"Why are you coming along?"

Enkrid asked the odd-eyed beast trailing behind him.

"Hiiing."

There was no one in the world who could truly hold a conversation with a horse.

The bodyguard stared at him, dumbfounded. Why the hell is he talking to a horse?

"Oh, you’re bored, huh? Guess you’ve seen everything around here already. Alright, come along then."

Enkrid spoke to the wild horse as if it had replied to him, running his hand through its mane. The animal was completely untamed—no saddle, no horseshoes.

This bastard’s not normal either.

The only reason he seemed sane was relativity.

The bodyguard resolved to stay extremely alert.

Odd-Eyes followed, but never allowed anyone to ride it.

"Good luck."

Graham bid them farewell.

Updat𝓮d fr𝙤m ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com.

"Have you set your course?"

Naturally, Kraiss had come to see them off at the city’s entrance.

"If you’re unsure, should I lead?"

Ragna chimed in.

"You dumbass, you planning to wander the entire continent for half a year?"

Rem shot back, annoyed.

Ragna turned his head with disdain.

"A savage who can’t fight should keep his mouth shut."

"...Did you just lose?"

Jaxon cut in, intrigued.

Rem’s jaw tensed, his cheek twitching. A grin spread across his face, but it wasn’t a smile—it was the kind that bared teeth before a fight.

Enkrid smoothly slid between them.

He was a skilled rider, and his horse obeyed his movements with ease.

"We follow the main road."

"...What?"

The bodyguard was the most shocked by that statement.

Even Crang was surprised.

It wasn’t that he doubted their abilities.

But wasn’t this asking for trouble?

"Oh-ho, had you already planned this? Or were you going to tell us now?"

Kraiss asked, nodding.

"Yeah. Seemed like the best choice."

"Instinct?"

"Half."

"And the other half?"

"Thinking."

Enkrid brushed a hand through his short hair—the same haircut Kraiss had given him recently.

Crang turned their words over in his mind.

He wasn’t an idiot.

We’ve already been exposed.

They were being watched.

Crang had survived multiple assassination attempts.

His understanding of danger was refined.

Their pursuers had been in place before they even left.

It didn’t matter whether they took the road or the mountains—the result would be the same.

So instead of wasting time sneaking through rough terrain, they would take the road and move at full speed.

Ditching the carriage for mounted travel was the best decision.

Crang had wandered the continent himself; he wasn’t about to fall behind anyone when it came to routes.

A mental map unfurled in his mind.

From Border Guard to the capital—the fastest way.

"I know a few shortcuts."

Crang said.

Enkrid nodded.

It was nice to have an escort target that actually understood strategy.

Kwarururung!

Thunder rumbled in the distance.

A bolt of blue lightning struck down over the Fen-Hanil Mountain Range.

If there were mountain rangers up there, they’d be in serious danger.

Though, with weather like this, they had probably descended long ago.

Raindrops started falling, first in scattered taps, then more steadily.

"Alright."

Dudududu.

Enkrid spurred his horse forward, and the others followed.

They were all proficient riders.

Esther shifted into her leopard form, sprinting alongside them.

Watching them fade into the horizon, Graham murmured—

"Will they be alright?"

"Who are you worrying about?"

Kraiss replied.

The strongest combatants in the region were riding out.

An ambush by assassins?

If they were the type to die from something like that, they would have all crossed the so-called River of Death together a long time ago.