Eternally Regressing Knight Chapter 29 - I Want to Live Too

Chapter 29 - I Want to Live Too

"Are you saying we should keep going forward? This is madness," said a rugged-looking soldier close behind Enkrid.

After their initial ambush succeeded, the reconnaissance team, initially Andrew's squad and now Enkrid's, attempted two more ambushes.

The second battle was against a group of five soldiers, and in the third, they faced more than fifteen.

Both encounters were grueling.

In the second, one of the enemy soldiers was exceptionally skilled.

In the third, they were simply outnumbered.

Now, only seven soldiers remained alive.

Two more had been lost.

"I can't save anyone else."

So things simply can't be done, no matter how much effort is poured into them.

Enkrid knew he wasn't so saintly figure.

Repeating today endlessly just to save the three who had already died was nothing but a fantasy fit for fairy tales.

It was already a miracle that they had survived this far, largely thanks to Enkrid's efforts.

Of course, the other soldiers fought fiercely as well.

One had lost an eye but survived.

Andrew had taken a cut to the face, now bandaged with linen over his left cheek—a wound that, if they made it out alive, would be a badge of honor.

Despite this grim situation, Enkrid pressed deeper.

It seed like a reckless charge with no regard for retreat.

From a conventional perspective, it was indeed madness.

The rugged-looking soldier wasn't lacking in skill or experience.

Even in these dire circumstances, he hadn't entirely lost his sense of direction.

He noticed that Enkrid was heading further into enemy territory.

Seeing this, Enkrid silently nodded to himself.

"Not bad."

Compared to Rem or others in his squad, this soldier fell short, but he was still quite capable.

With so training, he could at least beco a platoon leader.

"We'll get a bit of breathing room soon," said Enkrid.

The rugged-looking soldier frowned deeply.

"That's not what I ant," he retorted.

"As I said earlier, insubordination..."

"Insubordination or not, if this is a march to our deaths, I'll stab a knife in the back of whoever's leading us—even if it's you—to find a way to survive," the soldier interrupted.

This guy spoke dangerously without restraint.

What would he do if they made it out alive?

How could he face everyone after saying such things?

Even under Enkrid's piercing gaze, the soldier didn't flinch.

He was shaless.

And maybe he had a right to be.

What mattered most was survival, not the mission.

Especially for soone like him, serving with a specific purpose.

Andrew's life, his own life—those were his priorities.

Enkrid looked up to check the position of the sun before coming to a halt.

Naturally, the squad stopped as well.

All ears turned to Enkrid and the rugged soldier's exchange.

Enkrid spoke amidst the soldiers catching their breath.

"If we turn back now, we're dead anyway. Behind us is nothing but an enemy force clustered like rabid wild dogs."

As he spoke, Enkrid loosened the straps of his hand guards.

The leather-padded gear was practical, but wearing it for too long made his hand muscles feel crushed.

Loosening it too much, however, posed its own dangers during combat.

"How do you know that? They shouldn't even know we're here, so how could they already have blocked the retreat?"

The rugged soldier glanced at Enkrid's hands, his frown deepening at Enkrid's calm deanor.

Enkrid had already experienced this mont dozens of tis.

This was another iteration of the day he had repeated countless tis.

The enemy forces were nurous, and the mont they confird an ambush, they relentlessly cut off any escape routes.

Their obsession with ensuring no leaks of their presence was consistent every ti.

Whoever commanded them seed desperate to keep their ambush site hidden.

The squad crouched low amidst the tall grass, their unease palpable.

They followed Enkrid's lead for now, but the conversation between him and the rugged soldier painted a picture of the peril they faced.

Still, none stepped forward.

They simply pricked their ears to listen.

Enkrid glanced up again, ntally calculating the ti.

In about three or four hours, darkness would fall.

That would be their chance to escape.

But until then, he needed to convince these n.

He couldn't rely on brute force; these weren't the type to be cowed by that.

His prior use of coercion had brought them this far, but this was the limit.

Ambush, retreat, ambush—

The constant pressure had pushed his squad to their breaking point.

Now, they needed to wait.

But waiting gave rise to doubt.

Enkrid didn't feel the need to persuade them with flowery words.

"You realize it's already too late to turn back, don't you?" he said.

He was right.

They had delayed too long.

Turning back now would be suicidal.

The rugged soldier chewed on his lips.

He seed ready to retort with "What kind of lunatic are you?" but instead, he rolled his eyes and asked, "You have a plan, right?"

Enkrid t his gaze, then looked around at the others—Enri, Andrew, everyone.

Their eyes were filled with doubt and unease.

As they caught their breath, a semblance of calm returned, allowing their minds to wander.

They likely realized it was too late, yet doubt persisted.

Enkrid wasn't about to explain the truth.

He couldn't very well say he had seen the future by reliving today over and over.

Or that the only way forward was to trust him unconditionally so they could move toward tomorrow.

No one would believe him.

So, he said the one thing he could.

"I want to live too."

A short but profound statent that said it all.

He wasn't fighting to die.

The desire to live wasn't exclusive to them.

He was the sa.

Of course, even if he died, Enkrid would simply repeat today.

"I refuse to stagnate."

No matter who guided this flow or how high and solid the wall before him stood, he would not stop.

For Enkrid, this endless today was a mountain to climb and a challenge to conquer.

And so—

"Trust . This isn't a death march."

Without further explanation, Enkrid sought their trust.

He would rely on their belief to twist fate, to escape today and survive to see tomorrow.

The desperation for life, the toll of repeated battles, and the anxiety that followed the adrenaline—it was human nature to cling to even the faintest glimr of hope in such dire monts.

Enkrid's two simple words carried an unshakable conviction that stirred an indescribable sense of trust in the group.

He wanted to live, and so he told them to trust him.

Moreover, they instinctively knew there was no alternative.

What could they do here and now?

The enemy scoured the tall grasslands, swarming in numbers, while every possible escape route seed sealed.

At tis like this, putting faith in soone else felt like the only option.

"I... I want to survive too."

Enri murmured, breaking the silence.

His words set the tone.

One by one, they nodded toward Enkrid.

The soldier with the stern face tried to maintain composure, but even he had no solutions.

Among them, Andrew was the most shaken.

Beyond Enkrid's skills, his character seed complete, as though he embodied the person Andrew once dread of becoming—calm and steadfast, even in such a crisis.

'Even in monts like these, he's unwavering.'

Enkrid had earned everyone's trust, refusing to give up.

What a remarkable achievent that was.

"I... I believe, too."

Andrew spoke at last.

Unconsciously, he dropped the formal tone, but it didn't feel awkward.

A fervent energy surged among the group, drawn toward Enkrid.

"Then, everyone," Enkrid said, drawing their collective gaze.

"From now until my signal, lie low like moles and don't make a sound."

It was ti to put their trust to use.

Enkrid led by example, pressing himself flat against the ground and silencing his breath.

The others followed suit.

They didn't fully understand why they weren't escaping yet, but they trusted him, having shared sothing profound only monts ago.

This was the ti to honor that trust, even if only for five minutes.

The soldier with the stern expression watched as a tiny insect hopped off his nose and vanished.

'This guy's a master tactician, isn't he?'

Enkrid's ability to guide and inspire people was extraordinary.

Perhaps this was how he managed his unruly unit all along.

The thought ca naturally.

Rustle.

The sound of footsteps on grass reached their ears.

Everyone began breathing as quietly as possible.

There was movent nearby—not too close, but within range.

The tall grass provided good cover, its density making it difficult to spot anyone without closing in completely.

The sound of footsteps grew louder, moving from front to back.

Though the group couldn't see the situation, an incredible scene was unfolding.

If a bird had flown above and caught a glimpse, it would have marveled at the sight.

The grass quivered and swayed all around Enkrid's squad as the enemy moved through, yet the patch where they hid remained untouched—a solitary, safe haven in the midst of danger.

No amount of luck could have created such a gap within the enemy's trajectory.

This wasn't fortune.

It was the result of relentless repetition, a trick Enkrid had mastered by living today over and over.

As the sound of footsteps faded, becoming indistinguishable, Enkrid finally spoke again.

"Move out. Form a single file and advance."

It was ti to act.

Enkrid straightened his crouched form, walking slowly to ease his numb legs.

He thought about the sensory training he had learned from Jaxen—it was proving invaluable.

Judging distance by sound and discerning direction wasn't sothing most could learn through ordinary training.

Enkrid, however, had entrusted his life to an assassin to learn it and refined the skill further through endless repetitions in the grasslands.

'We've passed the second checkpoint.'

Their strategy involved ambushes and evasions, leaving enemies behind as they moved.

This was the second core elent of his escape route.

Now only the third remained—a goal that required ti.

As the numbness in his legs wore off, Enkrid picked up the pace.

The group followed without complaint, even as they marveled internally.

How was he leading them so effectively past an enemy that seed to swarm everywhere?

Reflecting on their previous battles, it felt uncanny.

Every skirmish began with a surprise attack, as though Enkrid knew exactly where the enemy would be.

Thanks to his leadership, they had consistently fought from advantageous positions.

In each of those battles, Enkrid had stood at the forefront, fighting like a man possessed.

The squad mbers knew this: he risked his life for them, bearing the greatest dangers himself.

Amid the stillness of the grasslands, a strange heat simred.

It wasn't external but a fiery resolve ignited in the hearts of the surviving allies.

Enkrid remained unaware, focusing only on what lay ahead.

'Up to this point.'

It had been easy.

To be honest, it wasn't difficult—and it couldn't afford to be.

He had already experienced this "today" more than fifty tis.

This outco was inevitable.

But why had he endured over fifty iterations of this day?

It was all for what ca next.

They were the few against the many.

Their enemy's intent was clear—they aid to leave no survivors.

In the first few attempts, he had gritted his teeth and tried to force a breakthrough.

Every ti, he failed.

Would things change with help from his squad?

Not a chance.

So he changed his approach.

'What if sothing worse than catching us demanded their attention?'

The sun began to set. The golden-orange glow of twilight bathed the grasslands, creating the illusion of wading through a luminous lake.

For now, it seed fitting to call it the "Orange Pearl" instead of the "Green Pearl."

The sky was unusually clear, and the warm sunlight was serene as it painted the horizon.

But the sun soon dipped beyond the western edge, giving way to darkness.

It was ti to pursue the third and final objective of Enkrid's escape plan.