A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

It was an honor.

Enkrid had barely survived taking a knight’s blade head-on, and while he had been bedridden for two days, his monstrous recovery ability had once again proven its worth.

Of course, he wasn’t in perfect condition.

My grip’s still weak.

Perhaps it was a stroke of luck that his shoulder had dislocated upon impact. Had he endured a moment longer, the strain would have wrecked his entire forearm and arm muscles.

His body was far from fully recovered, yet skipping the celebration wasn’t an option.

No, rather than saying he couldn't rest, it would be more accurate to say he wouldn’t have been left alone even if he tried.

“Captain!”

Starting with Helma, the soldiers who had grown familiar with him arrived one by one at his tent.

“Would you like some eel?”

Even the soldiers who had been cooking.

“You were amazing.”

A scout officer joined in.

Even those who had grumbled at him before were there.

Some looked awkward, unsure of themselves, but in the end, they all showed up.

“It was an honor to fight alongside you.”

Their voices overlapped in unison.

Enkrid simply stared at them.

They had rushed in, excitement on their faces, but as he remained silent, they all fell quiet.

No one dared to even purse their lips.

A silence lingered, and the cold winter wind seeped through the tent’s entrance, leaving a chill in the air.

Some soldiers felt their hairs stand on end.

Did I get too carried away back then?

Seems like I did.@@novelbin@@

The soldiers grew restless.

“Uh… Captain?”

Unable to bear the silence, Helma spoke.

Enkrid looked at him, expression unreadable.

There was no need to gather his thoughts.

He was simply speaking his mind, as he always did.

However, he wanted to take a moment to look at each of their faces before saying it.

It wasn’t just idle words tossed into the wind—it was sincerity.

To convey that sincerity, one must see their opponent clearly, recognize them fully, and then speak.

He had learned that from observing Krang.

And so, Enkrid did exactly that.

The weight of his gaze brought a biting cold with it, but sincerity was more important than anything else.

“I feel the same.”