A Knight Who Eternally Regresses - Chapter 285

Chapter 285: CHAPTER 283 Chapter 285: CHAPTER 283 ‘Uh, hmm, this is good.’ Encrid stood on the platform, proclaiming that he would send an assassin.

Of course, that wasn’t going to happen.

Not exactly, at least not now.

What he’s sending now are underlings.

Krais knew this all too well.

That’s why he made use of Encrid’s words.

What would happen if he announced that he would take out the enemy Commander right away?

What if this reached the ears of the enemies?

‘If it were me?’ They would be hesitant to act first.

They’d increase their guards and send out more sentries.

If that happens, there would be even less chance of them ordering an all-out attack.

‘They’ll become even more cautious.’ They even pretended to move the troops at night, subtly leaking it to the spies.

Krais made full use of Encrid’s words.

‘Even better.’ The strategy was originally based on both sides hesitating to make the first move.

It was likely to work well, but Encrid’s words made it even more effective.

‘That guy really does think ahead.’ Even though he seems to find thinking troublesome, the Commander is deeply thoughtful.

He’s also resourceful.

And it worked perfectly this time.

The enemies, who were already hesitant, focused only on tightening their defenses without making any rash moves.

The number of torches lighting up the night increased.

The allied scouts were running tirelessly, both horse and rider exhausted from their efforts.

Despite all this, Krais still couldn’t shake off his unease.

So, what could he do?

Seeing it with his own eyes might ease the anxiety a bit.

What he needed now were eyes.

The eyes of the battlefield were, of course, the scouts.

“The scouts will decide the outcome.” Krais said, and Vengeance nodded more vigorously than ever.

“Of course.” After that, he drove his scouts relentlessly.

“Everyone, move!

If you’re lazy, the other soldiers will all die!

Pain!” “Kills me!” The slogans seemed to get weirder and weirder, but the effect was undeniable.

They moved.

The entire allied force regrouped, reorganized, and spent the day preparing.

As dawn broke, with the dark sky as a backdrop, they marched out of the castle gates.

“Forward, all units!” The voices of the veteran soldiers, strategically placed among the troops, echoed from all directions.

Even as he watched, Krais still felt uneasy.

It was always like this.

He was always anxious, always worried.

‘It’s okay.’ He was talking to himself.

If things went south, he could always run.

That small comfort anchored him, allowing his mind to function properly.

A ship with its anchor down wouldn’t be easily swept away by the waves.

To the west of the Border Guard, over the barren land that couldn’t be used for farming, the troops marched.

A little further south, on a small hill, Krais watched the battlefield, flanked by the two squads guarding him.

What would happen?

Would things go as planned?

Or would something unexpected occur?

Or perhaps the enemy would read his intentions and counterattack.

‘If they launch a full-scale attack from both sides, squeezing us?’ That would be the worst-case scenario.

There’s no way to stop that.

Even if there were ten Encrids, some things just couldn’t be done.

“I’m bored, Big Eyes.” Rem, who had come as a guard, grumbled.

With an axe slung over one shoulder, his eyes glinted with a hint of bloodlust.

His attitude and gaze made it clear that he wanted to jump into battle right away.

Krais, however, was not his usual self.

He didn’t care and simply said, “Wait.

There will be so much fighting that you’ll wish you didn’t have to.” For now, he was too busy thinking.

The enemy’s intentions, the enemy Commander’s thoughts, their personalities, their tendencies in decision-making-he was cramming all of it into his mind, processing it.

It might have been considered a sharp response, but Rem uncharacteristically kept his mouth shut.

Even he could see that Krais was different from usual.

‘This guy is actually useful after all.’ Rem may look like a fool on the outside, but he knows how to use his head.

However, he just sees everything in his own way and fits it all together.

Krais didn’t even realize that Rem was behaving so quietly.

His mind was still racing furiously.

In any case, the key lies with the elite few.

How these few are utilized will determine the outcome of the battle.

Amid the anxiety and unease, Krais felt a strange thrill.

‘If things go according to plan.’ They might be able to hold out well.

He didn’t consider variables.

The small variables were something the troops on the ground would have to handle.

Krais’s mind naturally started to map out the next steps.

What would they need to do to win more easily?

What would they need?

‘What if we unified the military branches and standardized the equipment?’ His thoughts continued as he envisioned the future.

Standardized equipment, reorganizing the troops based on that, and using the same tactics across the board.

Soldiers who move like extensions of their Commanders, a unified, well-trained army created through rigorous training.

He had heard that the Imperial Army fought like that.

So why wouldn’t it be possible for the Border Guard Reserve Unit?

The elite few, those exceptional individuals, would be kept separate.

But the rest of the forces should be given uniform strength.

Unity among the troops.

‘With unified branches and equipment.’ Even soldiers who might lose in a duel…

‘Will win in battles above the company level.’ While the combat prowess of a few elites is important, large-scale battles are just as crucial.

To win in large-scale battles, uniformity is key.

You might lose in a one-on-one or ten-on-ten fight, but if you win in a hundred-on-hundred battle, that’s what counts.

As he watched the allied forces gather, Krais came to a new realization.

Naming the soldiers-swordsmen, spearmen, shield-bearers-Krais quietly organized his thoughts.

He figured that these ideas might come in handy later, either for use or sale.

* * * Viscount Tarnin felt a sudden surge of fear as the Border Guard Reserve Unit emerged.

“Pain is!” “Joy!” “Chargeeeeee!” They clearly outnumbered his forces and appeared to be better equipped.

“Don’t be afraid.

That’s exactly what they want.”  Laikanos said, a warrior from the Black Blade Bandits.

A weapon handle jutted sharply over his shoulder, and a flail was slung diagonally across his back.

The flail’s head, protruding from beside his hip, was a round, spiked ball, covered in sharp needles.

It was a weapon that looked heavy just by sight.

Laikanos’s forearms were as thick as most women’s thighs, and he wore gloves reinforced with metal pieces attached to the leather.

He looked like someone who could crush a human skull with ease.

In fact, he could do most of the things Tarnin was imagining.

Like smashing a skull with his bare hands.

In other words, he was a recognized powerhouse within the Black Blade Bandits.

No one but the leader could give him orders.

“Damn it, what are those cultists doing?” “They’re probably just being cautious, as usual.” Laikanos was a great fighter and an outstanding warrior.

But he wasn’t very smart.

Tarnin was even less so.

One of the nobles, who had been nervously watching, spoke up quietly.

“Rumor has it that things aren’t going well within the Border Guard.

There’s a line of people ready to run at any moment.” This noble had fled his own lands.

Tarnin frowned at the words.

If their ranks were truly so rotten and broken, then what were they showing now?

“Pain is!” “Pain!” “I want to get hurt!” “Hurt me!” Are they just a bunch of lunatics?

Did they all take some sort of drugs together?

“…The military wasn’t even properly under control when I left.” The noble trailed off, his words fading.

Laikanos wanted to crush the man’s skull right then and there, but he held back.

It wasn’t his concern anyway.

“Just respond appropriately!” Would the cultists react if they launched an all-out attack now?

And what about Aspen beyond the territory?

It didn’t seem likely.

They were all filthy scoundrels.

If their forces were diminished here, there might be no next time.

He couldn’t afford to be stabbed in the back by those cultist scum.

“Damn it, we’ll just smash the ones that come at us!” He thought it was a reasonable response.

One of Viscount Tarnin’s subordinates bit his lip.

‘If we go all out now, the cultist forces and Aspen will join in.

Then it’ll be over.’ He hesitated for a moment, then kept his mouth shut.

If he spoke up now, he’d likely be accused of being a spy obsessed with the Cult.

“You, you’re a spy!” Right at that moment, Tarnin, the piggish Viscount, slapped the noble who had come over from the Border Guard.

His thick palm met the cheek of the relatively thin man with a crisp harmony.

Smack!

“Ouch!

No!

No!

It’s not true!

It’s really not true!

The morale of the army was in shambles when I left!” The slapped noble fell to the ground, grimacing in pain.

“Stop spouting nonsense!” Tarnin’s fury exploded on the noble.

The noble, fearing for his life, desperately begged for mercy.

Seeing one person getting stomped on so thoroughly made everyone else fall silent.

Those above would figure it out.

He decided to keep quiet.

Laikanos did as he had said.

The battle became one of simply holding the line.

“Let them fight among themselves and spill some blood, then we’ll strike.” The Wolf Bishop acted according to Laikanos’s thoughts.

‘There’s no need for the blood of our followers to be spilled first.’ The Cult’s forces stayed hidden.

The assassination unit might not have shown up yesterday, but who’s to say they wouldn’t come today?

A messenger from the Black Blade Bandits came with demands to help immediately, but it was all nonsense.

“We need to keep an eye on the Martai garrison and be prepared for assassinations.” The demand was flatly refused.

Laikanos, hearing this, was furious, veins popping on his forehead, but there was nothing he could do except listen to Tarnin’s screaming.

“If we get hit like this, it’s all over!” Laikanos was tempted to slit the throat of the loud, obnoxious pig right then and there, but Tarnin was the very reason and excuse for this war.

He was a pig that couldn’t be killed.

* * * Aspen invested resources to understand the situation beyond their territory.

They utilized everything from spies to scouts, and even sorcery and magic.

“Are they moving?” A subordinate asked, as a man ran his hand through his hair.

His green hair, covering his forehead, was swept back and then fell again.

Feeling the sensation of the hair sliding down, the man replied, “It’s not our turn yet.” His eyes gleamed coldly.

The name of Aspen’s genius strategist, who had been demoted for a time after the defeat in the previous war, was Avnair.

He had set a clear objective for this battle.

The priority was a single target-a specific head.

Expanding territory was a matter for later.

He had prepared a mountain of resources for that purpose.

His heart raced.

How long would they be able to hold out?

While he wasn’t the kind of person who took pleasure in tormenting others, as a strategist, watching his preparations unfold successfully was a great joy in itself.

* * * “You crazy bastards!

What did I say?

My word is the word of God!

I told you it’s the light!

Huh?

Charge!

Listen to me!” The squad members shouted in unison at the Squad Leader’s cry.

“Aaagh!” They were all enraged.

It was understandable.

They had quickly learned to obey orders without question.

The newer the recruits, the more they were tormented.

It wasn’t done out of malice.

The veteran Squad leaders and Platoon leaders had been given their orders.

They were just following them.

“We will make sure you fight with fire but stay cool, without getting swept away by the heat of battle.” Krais barked like a dog, and of course, no one paid attention.

Then Encrid stepped in.

With his black hair and blue eyes, the madman of the battlefield spoke.

“It’s fine to half-kill them if needed, but they must follow the Commander’s orders.

And you must listen to your superior officers.

If you don’t, you’re dead.

Rem and I will take turns leading the training and beating you.” Whatever their previous rank or intelligence, when serving as soldiers in the army, simplicity was best.

They followed Encrid’s orders.

Among them was Bell.

Now a Platoon Leader, Bell screamed out orders.

“Do you all want to dieeeeee!” “Aaagh!” “Don’t go out!

Stay back!” This was the front line of the battle.

Bell’s voice rang out from the very front.

It was something Krais had arranged with Graham on purpose, most of the troops deployed now were new recruits facing their first battle.

One recruit couldn’t hear anything around him.

All he could see were the approaching enemies, who looked like demons.

Spears, swords, shields, hammers, flails-all filled his vision.

‘Ah.’ Am I ready for this?

Will my judgment be sharp?

Should I just thrust my spear forward?

Should I raise my shield to block?

His mind raced, and he was close to a mental breakdown.

Whack!

Someone struck him on the back of the head.

The blow was so hard he saw stars.

The world came back into focus.

He started to see what was happening around him.

“Hey, you bastard, aren’t you going to echo the command?” The curse pierced his ears.

It was the Platoon Leader shouting.

“Yes, sir!” “Thrust in line!” “Thrust in line!” They did as they were told.

Most of the recruits thrust their spears forward.

“Back!

Back!

Fall back, damn it, fall back!

I’ll deal with you later!

I’ll kill you!” The shouts of the veteran soldiers, who had become Squad Leaders, echoed all around.

Thus, the first skirmish passed.

The day had started at sunrise, and thanks to a slow march, they encountered the enemy by noon, followed by the beginning of the battle.

Total strength: eighty men, a two-platoon infantry unit.

Six wounded on the allied side.

No fatalities.

They fiercely thrust their spears and held their shields, but maintained a careful distance and pulled back appropriately.

This was not due to the enemy’s efforts but rather the command of their own leaders.

“Why aren’t they attacking aggressively?” A mercenary from the Black Blade Bandits awkwardly spoke up.

Just as his blood was boiling and he was ready to go on a rampage, the enemy retreated.

Of course, he couldn’t pursue them alone.

Then the Black Blade unit also received the order to retreat.

The next day, a similar battle occurred.

The only difference was the faces-they were fighting different soldiers.

In the second battle, an unfortunate soldier from the Black Blade Bandits failed to block an attack and died when a spear grazed his neck.

He was a serf from Viscount Tarnin’s domain.

It was clear that this was a hastily assembled force.

Graham and the frontline Commanders could tell at a glance the state of the enemy.

Viscount Tarnin’s forces were poorly organized and clumsily put together.

Still, they didn’t just charge recklessly.

In the third battle, the enemy opened the southern gate and provoked the cultists instead.

“Are you some kind of simpleton?

Come at us, or are you just here to watch?”  The taunt, spoken in the northern regional dialect, marked the start of the soldier’s challenge.

It was another similar battle.

Sometimes three companies, sometimes just two, would rotate in and out, fighting and then pulling back at the right moment.

This happened four times, then five, then six-eventually, there were twelve small-scale skirmishes in total.

The total number of dead was six.

And among the remaining soldiers, most now had a decent understanding of what battle was.

More importantly, these were soldiers who had endured Encrid’s training.

Their combat experience quickly filled in the gaps in their skills.

And just as Krais had hoped, the Border Guard Reserve Unit appeared larger and more formidable.

To the enemy, their fighting style seemed abnormal.

Naturally.

Who would think to conduct live combat training in the middle of such a crisis?

“Thankfully, it seems only fools are gathered here.” Krais sighed in relief and then looked at Sinar and Encrid.

“Now, it’s time for you to really do your part.” Sinar glanced at Encrid with calm eyes and said, “For a prelude, this seems a bit excessive, don’t you think?” “What kind of prelude?” “Of course, our engagement ceremony.” It was the usual light-hearted joke from the Fairy.

Encrid grabbed the central torch in the barracks.

Sinar reacted by changing the direction of her left foot, moving it towards the outside of the tent.

This Fairy was strangely sensitive to flames.

“Are you alright?” “That was a bit much.

Mischievous.” The Fairy spoke expressionlessly and stepped outside the tent.

Encrid chuckled, returned to the tent, and checked his gear.

“Uh, hmm, it’s time for the mission.” Then he spoke.

Everyone stood up.

A pack of beasts that had been itching for a fight for the past few weeks was there, ready to go.