Eternally Regressing Knight Chapter 859

859. It’ll work out somehow.

It was a day when pouring rain poured down. The cold rain chilled my body, and the stench stung my nostrils.
Dozens of people trembled with anxiety.
Grain storage areas were built of stone, and people’s dwellings were built of planks. This
was the reality of the farms that fed the city.
“Fine soil,” what else could this word mean?
Bloody wheat, grain soaked in blood. The inner city walls prevented sunlight from reaching the land. Farms couldn’t be built in the center. Therefore, farms were built a short distance from the city, and stone granaries were built to guard against attacks by demons and beasts.
Farmers risked their lives to venture out and farm. The grain was protected by stone walls, and people died defending their land. This was how the city functioned.
Should we just accept that the city could only support a limited population?
Encred of the past couldn’t. He was on his way to escort a noblewoman. Then, he was stopped by his ankle.

“This is all I have.”

He was an old man, his fingertips black from a lifetime of working the land. His hunched back wouldn’t straighten. His bowed head remained silent.
The wooden fence surrounding the farmhouse, the raindrops falling on it, and the people who lived there.
The keys to the stone cellars were held by soldiers, and the lords, who were supposed to protect the city, protected only the city.
The farmers, driven out, couldn’t give up their land, for they knew that if they gave up the crops this year, they would become poor. They pooled their wealth and hired mercenaries.
It was the same old story you hear everywhere:
meager wealth, grain soaked in blood.
People struggling to survive.
The rulers who turned a blind eye to it.
The only jewelry the hunched old man brought was a copper ring and crude glass artifacts.
Encred had a keen eye and had considerable experience as a bodyguard for nobles, so he knew the value of each object.

‘Not a single gold coin came out.’

It was a pitiful sum to hire a mercenary force. That was one of the reasons they had captured him.

“Please help me.”

The old man said. Encrid took only one copper ring.

“I’m alone, so this is enough.”

One of the men watching opened his eyes wide. His wet hair clung to his cheek. The rain continued to fall relentlessly.

“We can just stop it ourselves.”
“That’s stupid. We can’t do it without a swordsman.”

It was a quarrel between an old man and a young man twenty years younger than him.
This land had been fortunate. There had been several incursions by demons, but they had been repelled without incident. There were deaths, but no one had experienced despair.

“Tom, I will take your revenge.”

“Whew,” muttered the man, spitting phlegm on the ground. His gaze was rather murderous. Encred glanced at the gathered group and fell silent.
They were a group that wouldn’t change even if they had a commander. To be honest, they were too busy protecting themselves. They had the option of ignoring the farmhouse, but they didn’t.
Through the rain falling at the end of summer, a group of beasts poked their heads out. Wolves and foxes were the mainstays. The beasts weren’t targeting stone granaries or anything like that. They were after humans. Weakly armed, humans were easy prey.

“……There are too many.”

A young man muttered, and Encred nodded inwardly.
Over twenty hungry demonic beasts. But should they just die? Everyone capable of fighting, excluding women and children, had gathered.
Back to back, they shouted for him to fight, biting the fox’s legs while smashing its skull with a mace. Even then, he never slacked off in daily training, his strength unmatched.
But being a little stronger than others wasn’t enough to overcome this crisis. He was on the verge of becoming the beast’s excrement, along with the farmhouse.
Limping, his limbs bitten, he held on, stabbing with his sword and swinging his mace.

“This guy is crazy.”

It was a mercenary force. Those were the words of the man at the forefront.

“It’s raining cats and dogs.”

He was the mercenary captain. He spoke again, swinging his sword. Encred, at the time, thought he was quite skilled. With a single swing of his sword, the fox beast that had been charging at him groaned and retreated. Others followed suit.
Fifteen armed warriors, far more skilled than Encred himself.

“Well, who would give up their daughter?”

One of the mercenaries cheerfully asked, “Why are you here causing such a stir?” The crisis has passed, but life isn’t over.

“No, I’m not that good at it, so what do you believe in?”

The mercenary captain asked again.

“I couldn’t just leave him alone.”
“……He’s a really crazy kid.”

Encred joined the mercenary corps after this incident, and learned much from him.
While he wasn’t what one would call his first mentor, he was still someone who took him in and cared for him.

“You put down your sword. That’s right. If you refuse to put it down, no matter what I do, just hang around the lady.”

Did he even offer that advice?
The memory of that rainy day overlapped with the present. Encred looked at the man in her memory.

“……Team?”
“Fuck, who is that? My name is Bunyan.”
“Oh, right.”

Encred nodded. Bunyan. That was the name.

“If you don’t know, you don’t have to say anything, so why are you using a different name?”

Lawford muttered.

“That’s the kind of person he was originally. Why are you asking when you already know that?”

Pell took the word. Lawford had been more sensitive than usual since arriving here. It was a result of that influence. Perhaps this front line was where he belonged.
Life is a series of coincidences, and you never know what will change. The choices between birth and death can change so much.

“Wasn’t it similar?”

Encred tilted his head at Lawford’s monologue. Bunyan stared straight ahead and smiled. He ignored the strange noises. He had a knack for such nonsense.

“I never thought you’d be the mad knight commander? Seriously. You were destined for greatness.”

“Bunion,” he said, wrinkling his nose. It was a habit he had when he smiled. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his body was clearly heavy with fatigue, but he smiled.

“When will you stop being a swordsman?”
“Me? When?”

Bunyan shrugged, as if aggrieved.
Encred snickered and held out his hand. Bunyan was the original impudent one. The two shook hands.

“I’m so happy, I feel like crying.”
“But that’s not the expression on your face.”
“Oh, my pride won’t allow me to cry over a man.”

It was a casual attitude. Bunyan was a squad leader leading ten soldiers.
While units guarded the southern front in shifts, some remained permanently.
Bunyan belonged to one of those units.
Naturally, Bunyan was assigned to lead the group through the camp. He explained the location of the tents and the current situation, and Encred, having heard the story, asked questions.

“How did you end up here?”
“Someone had to do it, so I’ll do it.”

It’s all superficial. There’s more hidden inside, but he doesn’t seem to have any intention of saying it now.
It was the same when we first met, but for someone who lives on the continent, this author is a bit reserved. So, he took me in and cared for me back then.

“You came to help us, didn’t you, Encred? Then help us. Help us protect this land.”

Favor, grace.
It’s safe to say they were bound together by such things. Mercenary Captain Bunyan saved Encred’s life and taught him many things. Even the ability to joke around shamelessly was something Bunyan taught him.

“Don’t worry.”

A favor goes round and round. Those who give will always find a return. Bunyan was surprised to hear the name of the mad knight commander, and he saw him today.

‘Would the situation change just because one knight joined?’

What if we rush across the southern front like this? Should we even engage in an all-out war?
It’s difficult. Truly difficult.
One of Lichenstätten’s secret weapons is the anti-personnel ballista. Each arrow fired at people by this modified weapon is thicker than a wooden spear.

‘Even a knight would have a hard time breaking through.’

The downside is that it can only be used in fixed locations. From here, the southern army’s position lies across a series of hills and narrow terrain.
To attempt a frontal assault, ascending the hills and navigating the narrow terrain would require fending off attacks from ballistae, which are thicker than javelins and faster than arrows. This is no easy feat.

‘If you take a detour.’

A small group of knights could somehow break through and return, but will the southern knights be idle in the meantime?
It’s gloomy. Bunyan knows it. He also knows that even if the Knights join, nothing will change much in this situation.
And how will they deal with the monster known as the Griffin Rider?

“Somehow it will work out.”

Encred spoke. He heard the situation. He didn’t have an answer right away. But he spoke anyway.
What’s funny is that Bunyan’s cheeks, eyes, and fingers trembled at those words.

“……Have you met Sir Cyprus?”

Bunyan asked.

“No, not yet.”

Encred shook his head slightly.
What was the commander of the Southern Front thinking? I don’t know. I don’t even know why he doesn’t show his face. He’d met with Krang and decided what to do. That was enough for Encred.

“Really? That’s interesting.”

“It’ll work out somehow,” Bunyan said. Encred didn’t know it, but Cypress’s mantra was, “It’ll work out somehow.”

‘Not knowing how to give up.’

He who shines even in despair.
Such was the knight who protected this land.

* * *

Most of the soldiers guarding the South were similar to Bunyan. This was a land where it was difficult to remain without a strong sense of duty.
Even the slightest rain would bring a torrent of drowning victims, and monsters would swarm at any moment, and even Lichenstätten’s army would attack.
Recently, with the Griffon Riders and the weakening of the Holy Relic, things were going from bad to worse.
Yet, there were no deserters. Even in these circumstances, those who remained on the battlefield never shied away from their duties. They
stood guard, limping, and fought while wrapped in bandages. The Holy Relic wasn’t doing its job? Then they had no choice but to fight with even more vigilance. Throwing
something from beyond their reach? Then they crouched and held out until the opportunity presented itself.
And so, they protected those who had fought alongside them in the South. They were a relentless force, unyielding in their determination to give up anything.

“Can I take a look?”

Audin and Teresa found the tent where the priests were staying. The smell of death hung thick around the tent.
Amidst the bloody stench of the demonic rain, a distinct smell of dying men wafted through. Audin had encountered such people many times as a monk.
That musty, stinking smell, the smell of the dying. Even this tent was filled with that same smell.
The soldier, straining his stomach, answered the giant’s question.

“Who are you?”

The soldier’s head was stiff. His scalp was covered in dust from the headache and the magic rain. His cognitive and reasoning abilities were less than half of their usual levels. He simply focused on his duty. If he didn’t, he would easily be possessed by an evil spirit.

“It is a paper that serves the god of war.”

The soldier hesitated. After all, those in the tent were dying. It wouldn’t matter who he brought in. Especially since they were priests. But his duty was to protect them.
Audin could have forced his way in, but he didn’t. He respected them.

“This is the heart of the matter. If I misbehave, then it’ll be enough to aim my spear at me.”

If they weren’t allies, they wouldn’t have made it this far, and the priests staying in the tent behind them were hopeless. So, they could have just stepped aside, but this soldier wouldn’t readily give up his spot.

“Get out of the way.”

Then, a voice came from behind Audin. It was Rafield. He was a senior soldier, more senior than the guards.
He had taken a brief nap and was on his way. He had found the so-called “War Cultist.” Finding him wasn’t difficult. He was a large man, after all. Besides, the two were standing in front of their benefactor’s tent.

“Senior Raffield.”
“Get out of the way.”

He spoke and pushed the soldier aside. The soldier guarding the tent blinked his dim pupils and stepped away.

“Are you going in? If you go in without permission, you might catch a disease.”

“Rafield said.
His wish has been the same from the beginning to the present.
Those suffering in that tent are too righteous to die here. Even without rain, this land is a place that devours people. So, he only wishes they could be taken to the city, to safety.

“Yes, it’s okay, Brother Sad Face.”

When Audin spoke, Rafield frowned and then cleared his throat.

“What a strange title.”

The soldier stepped back, and Rafield opened the tent door. Audin bowed his head in greeting and stepped inside. He saw the men lying amidst the stench of urine and decay. There were
ten of them. The priests were gathered in a small tent. Beside them, water bowls and dry rags were visible. Even in this situation, these were signs of care.

“If you leave it alone, it will die.”

Rafield spoke from behind. To be honest, they could die at any moment. Still, if possible, if I could save even one.
Contrary to my wish, the words that came out of my mouth were realistic.

“If you can’t save him, at least recite the prayer of peace.”

Rafield sobbed. The guilt of being unable to do anything for his benefactor weighed heavily on his body, and he could only find himself seeking God.

‘Lord, if you will grant my wish, please.’

Please save them.

‘If you spare them, I will worship and serve you for the rest of my life.’

It was a prayer that staked my faith, my life, my tomorrow, my entire existence—everything. The prayer was fervent.

“It’s a little late.”

“Audin said,” Rafield said. Those words filled him with a deeper sense of despair. Even if he knew, a confirmed kill still hurt.

“I need to recuperate for at least a month.”

The next words left me speechless.

“Sister, please sing.”
“Yes.”

And then I fell to my knees at the song I heard and what happened before my eyes.

iced coffee-.

Teresa imbued her song with divinity. It wasn’t a funeral march. Her chants replaced the sacred relics.
Ten priests were struck by the plague unleashed by the demonic spirit. Of course, they weren’t alone. The plague spread across the battlefield.
Raffield saw a miracle.
Light flowed through the lyrics, and that light saved the ten priests. Wheezing, the field exhaled, and as the light passed over his blackened skin, the priest who had saved his brother opened his eyes.

“……What happened?”

He hadn’t been able to open his eyes for three days, so I had to roll him over to prevent bedsores. He opened his eyes, turned his head, and spoke.

“Rafield?”

The priest, who turned his head, saw Rafield, who was simply praying and saying thank you, before Audín and Teresa.

“I survived, Father.”

Rafield approached on his knees and wept bitterly.
Humans cry when they’re sad, but they also cry when they’re overjoyed.