Eternally Regressing Knight-Chapter 524 - Step Forward, Brother-in-Arms

Chapter 524 - Step Forward, Brother-in-Arms

"Yaaawn."

Ragna stretched his mouth wide open, releasing a deep breath that clearly signalled his boredom and sleepiness.

Watching him, Enkrid couldn't help but ponder.

Should I be surprised that he can sleepwalk like this?

Or should I admire the complete lack of tension before what might be a life-threatening battle?

Or perhaps I should learn from his ability to treat the Pen-Hanil Mountain Range as if it's just a backyard trail?

Even now, he yawned and dozed off while walking.

Was this strength, or simply madness?

Let's just call it a strength.

After all, even I'm not trembling with nervousness, so it's probably better for my sanity to view it positively.

"The air feels heavy, devoid of the mountain's natural energy," Shinar commented walking besides him.

Enkrid nodded, continuing to walk.

Their pace resembled a leisurely stroll, yet this was no backyard.

It was Pen-Hanil Mountain Range.

The mission was to intercept the enemy, but to do that, they first had to locate them.

This was no casual hike—as they were advancing cautiously, scouting for any signs of the enemy.

Ahead of them, a ranger unit led by Finn was already paving the way.

"Been a while, huh?"

As soon as they entered the mountain range, Finn approached with a sly smile.

Finn had once been the scout captain who he met on a mission. Later, she briefly served with the Madmen Unit, but now she was under Shinar's command. A deep scar marred her left cheek, but her expression remained bright as ever.

"You seem to be managing well," Enkrid remarked.

"Not too bad."

"Don't die."

"I'd rather not, but don't worry. I've practically lived off this mountain range. Trust me, general."

Finn saluted and stepped ahead, leading her unit further ahead into the mountain range.

Soon, she disappeared beyond their sight, her position traceable only by faint sounds, which eventually vanished as well.

Shinar, having watched the exchange, turned to Enkrid.

"A bit of a flirt, aren't you?"

"Who are you talking about?"

With a neutral gaze, Shinar stared at Enkrid before launching an unexpected barrage.

"Surely, I wouldn't mean Big Eyes managing the territory back home. Or the self-proclaimed devoted husband of a fighter. Or maybe the swordsman who might someday get lost in the continent's demonic domains. Lastly, there's Jaxen—even though he could be a flirt, he is loyal to one partner. Did you know his lover runs a shop right in the middle of the city?"

Enkrid couldn't dodge Shinar's swift and precise attack.

He realized anew how well Shinar understood the quirks of every member of Madmen unit.

"Getting lost in the continent's demonic domains? You should learn to navigate by starlight, barbarian runaway" Ragna interjected, waking up from his stupor to scold Rem.

"...Captain, do we really need someone like him?" Rem asked, one hand resting on his axe while the other gesturing towards Ragna, his expression sharp.

From Enkrid's perspective, it seemed like Ragna made such remarks deliberately to provoke reactions out of Rem.

"Jaxen's lover owns a shop?" Enkrid asked, shifting the conversation to avoid escalating the tension.

"Teahouse, a small one" Shinar replied.

Her overly detailed response prompted more questions, but Enkrid chose not to pursue the matter.

The shop's existence and Jaxen's fidelity were surprising enough.

The group fell silent again.

Rem hummed a tune, Ragna struggled to stay awake, and Enkrid kept them in line.

Shinar and Jaxen moved silently, their footsteps barely audible even to Enkrid, whose senses had sharpened since unlocking his Will.

"If he truly tried to hide his steps, I wouldn't be able to hear them at all," Enkrid mused.

Jaxen's silence came from deliberate training, while Shinar's was an innate trait of fairies— being naturally light-footed and nimble.

Soon, they spotted a marker left by Finn's unit.

"White," Jaxen noted, pointing to a thin cloth tied to a branch.

White indicated a discovered trail, Blue signalled enemy contact, and Red meant battle or casualties. If combat had occurred, they would have sensed the tension in the air.

Still, Enkrid's sharpened instincts whispered a warning—the enemy was moving faster than they expected.

Though intuition guided him, it was backed by rapid calculations.

The party had barely entered the Pen-Hanil Mountains, expecting to encounter the enemy midway in two or three days. Yet signs of their presence had already surfaced.

Perhaps the enemy had hoped to catch them off guard or disrupt their chain of command.

"It's not just one path." Enkrid muttered.

In addition to the white cloth on the branch, two bird-shaped markers made of folded cloth lay on the ground. One pointed left, the other right.

This meant the enemy had split into at least three groups—something even Krais hadn't foreseen.

No time for hesitation. Enkrid quickly issued his orders.

"Jaxen, join with Finn's reconnaissance. Ragna and Shinar, take the main path as the rear vanguard. Rem head left. I'll cover the right."

Without pause, they dispersed.

Jaxen leapt into the trees, his movement as silent as an owl's wingbeat.

Enkrid glanced at the direction Jaxen vanished, reviewing his decision.

If the enemy had divided their forces, should they split too? Or was it a trap? If so, they could always retreat after confirming.

The enemy had closed the gap much faster than they had expected. Were they hoping to cause confusion and disarray?

Such tactics might have had worked against a regular unit, where differing opinions would have caused frictions in making decisions.

But the Madmen Unit followed a single command without question.

"Don't overdo it." Rem said, breaking into a jog. "We'll clean this up quickly."

Enkrid turned towards the right path, while Ragna and Shinar quickened their steps forward.

Their pace had doubled.

***

"Could they have been scheming something else?"

Krais felt a deep unease bubbling within him, rising from his core like a fountain.

Despite that he maintained his composure, outwardly.

He drank tea, smiled, joked, and carried on with his tasks.

As a person in his position, showing unease would have consequences.

He could not afford to betray his inner turmoil.

When alone, he would be nervously shaking his legs, but if anyone was watching he had to pretend to be unshaken.

"Don't fight too hard."

Those were Enkrid's words towards the soldiers at the departure ceremony.

Really? Was that something to say to soldiers heading into battle?

Though internally he screamed in disbelief, Krais skillfully turned Enkrid's remark into his advantage.

"It means we will win even if we go easy." he told his troops, passing the message through the commanders rather than addressing the soldiers directly.

After all, the one speaking was the Demon Slayer, the master of the Border Guard, the King's friend, the Savior of the Western City, and the one who silenced the Grey Forest.

Even if Enkrid had barked a single "Woof," it would have boosted the morale.

In the eyes of his soldiers, even nonsensical words carried weight when Enkrid spoke.

"We!"

"Will win!"

"Even if!"

"We go easy!"

The chant rang loud and clear.

Krais watched the departing troops, smiling wryly at the rallying cry the commanders had crafted.

Meanwhile, he busied himself with other tasks, though the unease continued to press against his mind.

"Did those Aspen bastards schemed nothing else?"

Since there wouldn't be a full-blown war, but no protests or not even skirmishes?

Surely they'd planned something.

"And if they break the agreement?"

Then what?

It all boiled down to this: the winner gets to dictate the truth.

Implicit agreements meant nothing if they aren't honoured.

So Krais, in his way made a few subtle moves of his own—though what seemed small to him might feel quite different to his enemies.

Both armies gathered at Green Pearl, stationed a good distance apart. They arrived at similar times, but Aspen's troops formed ranks first, boasting over 5,000 soldiers.

The Border Guard's forces numbered only 3,000 at best.

But they were no ordinary 3,000.

Krais had poured enormous resources into building this force, focusing on quality over quantity. The result was a lean, elite army.

"Advance the troops!"

At the front stood 500 heavy infantry. A small force, perhaps, but not insignificant.

Each soldier wore standardized equipment: steel plate armor, chainmail underneath, and gambesons as padding.

In most wars, uniformity in equipment was rare, especially among heavy infantry many of whom had to acquire their own gear.

Ragged mismatched armor was common.

If their armor was at least the same color, then it was considered fortunate.

But the Border Guard's heavy infantry were all uniformly equipped.

That alone spoke volumes.

Maintaining a military force is a constant drain, like a voracious pig devouring resources.

Soldiers do nothing but eat and fight, but their true value shines on the battlefield.

Knowing war was imminent, Krais spared no expense in preparing his troops.

"They were forged with my precious kronas." Krais muttered to himself.

Even their weapons appeared uniform, despite variation in material, creating the illusion of identical equipment from a distance.

This wasn't the result of a single forge's effort but months of steady production and stockpiling.

On either side of the heavy infantry stood pikemen and archers, evenly split.

Their equipment too was uniform: blue gambesons and snug leather helmets.

These troops had undergone gruelling training, starting under Audin and continuing under Ropord's relentless regimen.

In the center, on a makeshift platform, stood Graham, the lord of the Border Guard and its highest-ranking commander.

He drew in a deep breath, puffed out his chest, and roared.

"Formations! Prepare for battle!"

Drums thundered in response.

Orders rippled through the ranks as the army began to move.

Drill and discipline defined a military's strength.

To gauge a force's quality, one need only see how well they maintain their ranks.

The Border Guard soldiers demonstrated this perfectly.

Their movements were precise, their lines unbroken. Not a single soldier muttered or wavered as they stepped forward in unison.

From afar, they looked like a single living organism.

By contrast, Aspen's troops, though grouped by unit, lacked this level of order.

The Border Guard had formed a wall—a testament to Krais's preparations.

The sheer sight of such a disciplined army was enough to make Aspen's commanders gulp.

What's with these guys?

Why are their lines so perfect?

Even Aspen's assault units hesitated. Among them, a captain who prided himself on leading such charges realized he had faltered and opened his mouth to shout.

"What nonsense! Lining up well doesn't mean they fight well! Forward! Charge!"

The sourc𝗲 of this content is frёeωebɳovel.com.

He roared, swelling his courage, and his men echoed his cry.

"Forward!"

Hundreds shouted in unison, their voices spreading like wildfire until the entire Aspen army was yelling.

The noise echoed across the battlefield, creating an illusion of energy gathering above them.

Graham watched, his face devoid of amusement, as he raised his left hand.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Five drumbeats.

A signal to count to five before unleashing a shout.

In stark contrast to Aspen's chaotic yelling, the Border Guard responded as one.

"Even if!"

The commanders led the chant.

"Even if!"

The soldiers followed.

"We go easy!"

The commanders continued.

"We go easy!"

The soldiers thundered in reply.

"We will win!"

"We Will Win!"

Their collective roar was like a crack of thunder, silencing Aspen's scattered cries. The organized shout conveyed a clear message, obliterating Aspen's any semblance of morale.

The ground trembled. The air quivered.

Hearing this thunderous cheer, Krais deemed the start of the battle favourable. Yet his unease remained.

"Audin, it's your turn now."

He muttered a silent prayer to a god, he only turned to when needed.

Audin, Teresa, Ropord, and Fel were all stationed here, deliberately left behind to counter any surprises that Aspen might throw their way. Despite this, Krais couldn't shake off his anxiety, prompting him to take subtle precautions.

Abnaier had sent troops ahead, ensuring that Naurillia wouldn't anticipate an ambush. Meanwhile, Krais had fortified the potential battlefield.

"Warriors, come forth!"

From the Naurillia ranks, a towering priest on a massive brown horse emerged: Audin.

They had agreed to avoid full-scale war, but not duel altogether. If Aspen pushed forward, what harm would it do to kill a few and bolster morale first?

At least, that's how Krais saw it.

Of course, Abnaier would have never agreed with Krais's thoughts.

---------------------------------

In order to get more Chapters early check out my ko-fi using the link below :)

www.ko-fi.com/samowek

Please support my work if you have the means :)

Thank you!