Eternally Regressing Knight Chapter 475

475
“Have you ever heard of a totem?”

It was said to be a tool used in witchcraft.

“You told me.”

Encred answered. He was sitting on a chair in the middle of the tent. The chair had no back, but it wasn’t too uncomfortable.

In front of him, Rem became a daily magic teacher and spoke.

“Now, Captain, from now on, you are a human totem. You will eat, sleep, and play here.”

Rem spoke as a stern teacher.

Encrid was quick-witted and quickly figured out the situation.

I felt like I had to do as Rem said.

Of course, it took some experimentation to get to this point.

So, that was a little while ago.

Rem, who had just stepped in to mediate, immediately said this.

“Go out and see. Hurry up.”

Encred did as Rem said. He went out of the tent. When he had walked about three steps outside, Rem spoke, stopping at the entrance to the tent.

The guy waved his hand, showing the back of his hand.

“Whoa, over there.”

I did as he said.

Dunbakel came out of his tent and sat on one side, holding his nose with one hand and watching, while Luagarne followed behind Encred.

“You seem to believe that you can prevent curses.”

This is what I say while drinking water all the time.

“No way.”

It must be a coincidence.

I said I realized divine powers as a joke, but how could that possibly happen?

What’s more, I’ve never even tried witchcraft.

There was no need to look back on my life so far. I was too busy swinging my sword.

Even now, I feel like I want to recall the things I struggled with.

The twins attacked at a very unique tempo.

One was single tempo, throwing the spear with precise breathing, and the other was half tempo.

As I looked at it, various thoughts came to mind.

‘What if we mix the tempos?’

It occurred to me once again that what Oara had shown me was true.

Oara’s swordsmanship was faithful to the basics. One of those basics was tempo.

A counter that receives the tempo from a normal single tempo, a half tempo that splits the single, and a double that puts two movements into one tempo again.

Tempo, in other words, could be said to be one breath.

Ragnar would sometimes fit three or four movements into one breath.

Then should we call it triple, fourth tempo?

I didn’t know the name.

Ohara did that too. He split the tempo and wrote it, and he also wrote a single tempo.

And it did the opposite too.

It is a slower and longer sword strike.

I held my breath for a long time and increased the tempo.

What should I call it?

If I had to name it, I would say it’s slow tempo.

Instead of splitting, I extended it. Instead, I combined my feet and body movements to make the trajectory of the sword swing infinitely continuous.

Against the fragments of Balrog, Oara displayed his unceasing swordsmanship.

Her sword did not break. It continued and continued. It was very impressive.

Following Oara, others also crossed my mind.

Ragnar used to swing his sword for a heavy blow. He would also fight and deceive his opponent for a blow.

But the goal was the same: to land a blow on the opponent, whether with a sword or shield.

The King of the East was good at making cut-off movements.

The gap between the sharp blades that flew in at odd angles while being cut off abruptly was cut off.

It was an irregular method and difficult to find any rules.

Think over and over again. Worry over and over again. Reproduce it with your body. Correct the error. Strike down the sword. It’s repetition.

As he walked and did something similar to swordplay with his hands, Luagarne rolled her big eyes and looked at him.

‘A person who is crazy about training.’

There were some people who occasionally called Encred that way.

Luagarne agreed to that.

Training, training, training.

Encred was the one who did this without getting tired of it, even splitting up his sleep time.

It was the same now.

Encred’s mind was full of thoughts about swordsmanship.

What can I do with the first thing that comes to mind, whether it’s witchcraft or something else?

Moreover, this was quite fun.

The thoughts continued.

What if I split the tempo like crazy, splitting my breath?

There was such a sword technique.

On the Valencian mercenary sword.

‘I thought it was a dog barking.’

Valencian mercenary sword, breathe freely.

It was a way to freely control the tempo. It was a technique of playing with breathing and rhythm.

How is that possible?

You just need to be able to master all the basic techniques.

Is it an easy path? No. It is difficult. It is a difficult path. But it still made me laugh. It is a very enjoyable path for Encred.

Now that I think about it, there was no other swordsmanship that required as much thorough mastery of the basics as the Valencian mercenary sword.

The complaints from the Valencian mercenary sword were even worse than those from the Luagarne.

I didn’t actually hear it with my ears, but it felt like I did.

When I was learning the Valencian mercenary sword, I read something like a book of visions, and there was something about the basics written once per page.

“Start with the right posture. If you don’t know the basics, you can’t fool your opponent.”

“If you don’t know how to swing it correctly, you won’t be able to cut even a rag.”

“Get your body in shape so you can maintain proper posture.”

“Start with the posture.”

“Concentrate on your stance while holding the sword. Start from there.”

“What comes before skill, think about it, that’s right, attitude.”

If I had omitted the basic posture and foot positioning, the vision book would have been a little thinner.

But it was just as important.

Most people who read it ignored those words. They passed them over. They dismissed them as useless rambling.

Encrid didn’t do that. He couldn’t have done that.

It was a time when one had to grab hold of even a shred of straw and swing it.

So that’s what I did.

To learn the Valencian mercenary sword, I straightened my posture and did as I was told.

That was a really great pose.

If Valen came back and saw this, he would say that this kid was truly worthy of being called his disciple.

Of course, if we had met before, would you have been able to make a living with this kind of talent?

I would have asked, though.

Anyway, there is a saying that if you want to deceive someone, you have to mix in the truth.

The Valencian mercenary sword was true to its word.

The Hwangeom, the Valen-style mercenary sword, was a sword that honed its fundamentals and used them to perform various tricks.

I walked away from the tent for a while, thinking about this and that.

“Come back again!”

Rem called from afar. Encred turned around and went back to the tent.

There were eyes that looked at me from time to time. Some were sharp, and some looked straight ahead without thinking.

The weather was bright and dazzling. Encrid walked to find a place with some shade. He walked next to a large tent.

It would probably be pointless. Some other factor would have intervened.

Why would the curse go away just because you’re confident?

When I approached, I saw that Rem had lost her expression. It seemed that she had become quite serious.

“Go. Over there.”

The playfulness in Rem’s tone disappeared. The woman who appeared to be the child’s mother was kneeling.

The sorcerer Hira kept bringing the stick of tobacco to his mouth.

A puff of smoke obscured her face.

Encred did as Rem said.

After going back and forth three times, Rem muttered.

“fu*k, how can this be?”

But soon he nodded.

The situation was too much of a hassle to even think about the process. Something like dog poop was happening, so there was no point in arguing about it.

After putting the reason aside, Rem decided to set up a human totem, and Encred had to agree.

When I look around, there are quite a few sick people. They are over twenty.

Encred looked at them and thought.

Should I bring in a healer, or rather a shaman here?

Anyway, it was several times easier to become a human totem than to find a sorcerer and threaten him with a blade to his neck.

After Rem’s experiment, Hira’s experiment took place.

He would contact those who were cursed and just sit there.

That’s the conclusion.

To become a human totem in the middle of the tent.

A chair was created. It was a replacement for the stool. It was his own special chair.

A soft cushion was laid out, and instead of the acrid smoke of grass, a grass that gave off a gentle fragrance that only grows in the West began to burn.

Pottery made from baked yellow clay was moved here from the chieftain’s tent.

It was a tool that slowly burned grass with the residual heat after lighting a fire at the bottom, and had four holes at the top.

In the hole, grass was burning and smoke was rising gently.

“Oh, this smells good.”

Dunbakel said.

Encred took a deep breath of the scent that banished the musty and putrid smell coming from Dunbakel’s body.

It smelled good, just like she said.

So much so that I feel like hitting Dunbak right now.

“Go wash up.”

“Oh, why.”

“immediately.”

“In our village, there is a saying that if you wash too often, you will become unclean.”

“There is a saying like that in Suin Village?”

Luagarne knew the lives of the water people well. She knew that they did not enjoy washing, but she also knew that they did not use the word “unclean” lightly.

Dunbakel didn’t say anything else. If you think about it, she hadn’t lived in the village for very long. She had been kicked out when she was young.

“Are you washing it?”

The mother of the child who had become something like a follower approached.

Encred was a little wary of her.

That’s because his attitude changed like turning over a palm, and his temperament also seemed to change.

No, if you think about it, Westerners were a bit like this.

It was fiery, straightforward, and not very showy.

The middle-aged man who came to see me after hearing that the curse had just been stopped was the same.

“Thank you, I express my gratitude.”

I didn’t know who it was, so I just nodded my head.

The child’s mother looked at Dunbakel.

Encred read her eyes.

Should I listen to you if you say this? Or not?

The mother’s hand goes into her bosom. She is looking lost in thought, lightly holding a dagger called a karambit.

“Hey, wash up. Don’t make things awkward.”

Encred kicked Dunbakel in the butt and sent him out. There wasn’t much else to do.

Watching Hira speak forcefully, as if spitting out words, while watching his teeth improve, was the main thing.

“Please protect this land.”

She continued to care for the patient, muttering.

Is that also witchcraft?

She applied a dull gray plaster under the patient’s eyes, turned his body over, and wiped his face and limbs. It seemed more like an extreme form of nursing than sorcery.

“It would be okay to wander around near the tent.”

And Hira’s attitude also changed. She was also polite to Encred.

When I went outside, the twins were guarding the front of the tent.

It was because of Rem’s answer to the question of what he needed.

“Just prepare a sparring partner for the training ground.”

“Not doing it yourself?”

“I’m going to be busy.”

Rem said so and left.

Encrid became a totem. It wasn’t particularly boring.

I sat down and trained mentally.

I went out and moved my body.

Since the area right in front of the tent was left empty, there was plenty of space to swing the sword.

This side, they didn’t act awkwardly as if they were adapting to the western tribes.

How many years have I lived as a mercenary and eating rice with a knife? Why would I be struggling because I can’t adapt?

In conclusion, Encrid did well.

“Please eat.”

Beside him, the child’s mother served him with utmost devotion.

Yes, this was more than just taking care of something; it was serving it.

“I will eat well.”

Encrid answered moderately, quenching his thirst with ground squirrel berries and eating well-cooked lizard meat and the like.

Their recipes were of a type that had been widely experienced by Rem.

They caught a brown rabbit called a field rabbit, skinned it, removed its internal organs, and then crushed it whole to make meat porridge or meatballs.

There was no waste food, as at the table of the nobles. They ate just enough to make up for the lack. But it was still nutritious.

Taste? Everything tasted good.

The habit of eating whole animals may have been a tradition that arose due to a shortage of supplies.

About half a day later, before evening, a few children were wandering around.

Encred looked at the children blankly as he sharpened his sword.

‘Have you come to see me?’

Are you curious because I’m a stranger? You didn’t seem particularly interested until just now?

Some of the children showed curiosity, but it was not for their own sake.

“Is Chiba okay?”

A child asked into the tent. The mother came out and looked at the child.

I wondered where I had seen her face before, and it turned out to be one of the girls who used to hang out on ropes in the morning.

“I told you not to come near here.”

“I heard it’s okay now?”

One of the children said.

I could see the worry in his attitude, his speech, and his eyes.

When my friend collapsed, I was hanging around.

Children are children, so they play well, but I also worry.

Encred just watched. There was no way to interfere.

“Still, don’t come near me.”

The mother, who had come to her senses and forgotten her resentment and hatred, bit the children.

It would be a bad thing if you happened to be nearby and got bad luck.

“Sir, if you’re feeling bored, eat this.”

The mother then gave herself a dried plum.

Encrid put it in his mouth and chewed it. It was sweet. Beside him, Luagarne kept drinking water.

Then the woman gave a gift to Luagarne as well.

It was a dry, locust-like insect.

When he caught a living thing and put it in a basket made of tree trunks, Luagarne’s cheeks puffed out with joy.

Come to think of it, Lua might have been revealing what to eat.

Encred spent all day swinging his sword and training, except for the time he spent eating, drinking, and pooping.

I felt a change, and it made training more enjoyable than before.

The twins occasionally sparred. Rem also stopped by.

“I’m going to die.”

“what?”

I asked, wondering if there was anything difficult. It was a bright moonlit night. Even without a single torch, I could see his eyes, nose, and mouth.

“Ayul doesn’t even think about listening to me.”

“How did you leave home?”

Rem hesitated and then said,

“About ten days after the wedding.”

“There?”

“just.”

“just?”

“I ran away in the middle of the night.”

This kid was crazy. And he walked confidently on his own two feet? Even if he crawled and crawled and came back with his head down, would he be forgiven?

Encrid took hold of Aker’s grip, which had been set at an angle.

“Look at your neck. Here, bend over.”

“Look at the outer poles that hold the tent in place,” Rem asked.

“What are you doing?”

“To appease her. I thought it would be quicker to cut off her head and bring it to her.”

There seemed to be no other way.

Rem chuckled.

But Encrid did not laugh.

“You weren’t joking?”

“I’m serious.”

“Hey, please stop talking nonsense about other people’s business.”

It seemed like he was teasing her too much. Rem turned around with a serious expression.

After that, I didn’t see Rem very well. She seemed busy.

The first day was spent like this, and the second night was when I slept in the middle of the tent.

At some point my body shook.

Swaying.

It was accompanied by the sound of the river moving.