A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

The guy with clenched fists stomped the ground and charged. His ankles flexed elastically, propelling his body forward. The perfect transmission of power from his knees and thighs to his upper body.

Therefore, he was terrifyingly fast. But it wasn’t difficult to react.

Of course, he wasn’t a match for Rem.

Rem made a feint, lifting the axe in his left hand diagonally as if to strike. Just before the guy’s fist could connect, in the moment when his head was about to be split in two, his speed increased even more.

It left a faint afterimage.

It was a technique to blur the opponent’s vision with sudden acceleration.

Swish!

Rem’s left-hand axe sliced through the air.

The fighter, who had closed the distance, planted his left foot firmly while pivoting on his right foot and thrust his knuckle-covered fist forward.

It was obvious at a glance. He was well-trained.And then, thud!

“Hey, why are you sticking your neck out to the axe?”

After the noise, Rem’s calm voice followed.

Encrid recalled the scene he had just witnessed.

A charge that altered its tempo after initially approaching at a consistent speed.

Probably, no one had easily received that strike before.

At best, dodging it would be all they could do, and after the dodge, the opponent would continue attacking from their optimal range, which was likely the opponent’s fighting style.

Didn’t Audin also say?

“Fighters who use their fists are more concerned with distance control than anyone else, brother.”

Rem’s response to the charge aiming to secure that distance was almost indifferent.

He pretended to roughly match the attack with his left-hand axe, then swung the axe in his right hand, much faster than the left.

It was a similar strategy to the opponent’s, but the result was different.

The axe blade, flying like a beam of light, struck and severed the neck.

The decapitated fist merely tapped Rem’s abdomen.

Naturally, it had no power at all.

The severed head floated briefly in the air before falling to the ground with a thud.

As Rem pushed the body of the man who had thrown the punch with the back of his hand, it collapsed.

“He’s not an easy opponent. Don’t let your guard down!”

The opponent with the spiked spear shouted.

Then five men closed in on Rem.

Five men in total. Three with tridents and swords, and one fiddling with a dagger, making five.

“This is exciting.”

Rem remained calm despite the five opponents. No, he even seemed to enjoy it, shaking his shoulders as if he were dancing.

Ragna, with his hand on the grip of his sword, walked forward step by step towards the one with the spiked spear.

“Kill him!”

The man with the spiked spear shouted. At that moment, a female thief on a tree branch shot something.

Whiz!

A short arrow aimed at Ragna’s shoulder. Ragna twisted his body to dodge the arrow, drawing his sword in a smooth, natural motion as if it were prearranged.

Swish, as he drew the sword and made a large slash, the man with the spiked spear brought his weapon forward.

Clang!

“Hmm!”

Did he think it was a strike without much force?

The body of the spiked spear wavered slightly to the side.

Then, another whiz – the second arrow flew.

Ragna, of course, dodged it. The short arrow hit a stone embedded in the ground and ricocheted with a thud.

‘Up there.’

Encrid also saw the starting point of the arrow. It was up in the tree. A small figure was shooting arrows with a device on its wrist.

Encrid moved too.

He didn’t have a whistling dagger, but he did know the properly learned Tangum style.

For a moment, he extended time. Activating Focus Point, he gauged the distance to the target and flicked his hand.

His left hand, now as skillful as his right, which was not holding a sword.

The thrown dagger, augmented by concentration and keen senses, tore through the air.

The guy in the tree, like a monkey, hooked his legs around a branch and spun upside down to avoid it.

Thud!

The dagger passed through where the guy had been and lodged in the thick tree trunk.

“Kill him! Roomt!”

The man with the spiked spear shouted upon seeing this. Soon, someone approached Encrid.

It was a guy holding two daggers.

Roomt, as he was called, eyed the dagger at Encrid’s waist.

It was the dagger he had taken after killing a bodyguard earlier.

“That dagger…”

“Got it as a gift.”

Before the man could finish his sentence, Encrid replied without taking a breath, causing Roomt to furrow his brow.

His eyebrows were sparse, and the whites of his eyes were particularly small, giving him a fierce appearance.

Well, a fierce appearance and actual skill were separate matters.

‘A common face among mercenaries.’

Many mercenaries adorned their faces with scars, making them look menacing at a glance.

“He’s someone I taught.”

The man appeared to be in his forties, and to be fighting on the front lines at that age suggested considerable skill.

His heart pounded.

He would be better than the students he had taught.

Could he be better than the leader of the knolls?

A strange sense of anticipation filled him. If there was one thing he hoped for.

“Are you going to do it alone?”

Five against Rem, three against Ragna.

Why was there only one against him?

The remaining one was the monkey-like guy moving around in the trees.

Rem was smiling and swinging his axe while facing five opponents.

The five opponents were cautious.

They had seen their comrade killed in one strike.

The man with the spiked spear was also cautious.

When outnumbering the enemy, it was advantageous to slowly encircle rather than charge recklessly.

The man with the spiked spear and his two comrades stood in a circle around Ragna.

The same went for the ones facing Rem.

“I’ll kill you and then tear that beast girl apart.”

Although it was unclear what relationship he had with the black-clad bodyguard, he was clearly very angry.

Even so, he did not rush in easily. Was it caution? No, it was likely due to experience.

Encrid had no intention of waiting.

He pushed off the ground with a thud. From a few words he had heard from Ragna, he had gained new insights into swordsmanship.

Maintaining a Focus Point, he sharpened his senses.

The sharp killing intent from his opponent pricked his skin.

As Encrid charged, Roomt’s hands moved. They were fast. Frighteningly fast.

With a whoosh, his hands moved so quickly that it seemed like there were more than two blades.

Encrid, using the Correct Sword Technique as his base, thrust his sword forward. His plan was to block and parry, then coil inside to stab.

Roomt swung both daggers to deflect Encrid’s sword.

Clang!

It was not strength but technique that was added to the deflection.

By striking the center of the blade, he disrupted its balance.

Encrid could not stab his original target. His sword’s tip veered off course. While his sword was veering, Roomt closed in and stabbed with his dagger.

It was a trajectory that momentarily left his field of vision.

From below to above.

Feeling the blade approaching solely within the realm of the Sixth Sense, Encrid pressed down with his left big toe and halted his movement.

With a sudden jolt, he restricted his body’s movement.

As he pulled his elbow back to block the approaching dagger tip with his forearm guard, the dagger curved like a snake and aimed for his jaw.

It was unconventional, fast, and bold.

Encrid tilted his head back. The dagger’s tip grazed his chin with a swish.

As he retracted his extended sword and pulled it back in, his opponent rolled sideways to dodge.

Then, crossing his two daggers, the opponent glared at him.

Those eyes seemed to ask:

‘You dodged that?’

Encrid nonchalantly extended his sword again.

Why wouldn’t he dodge it?

Honestly, if it had been before he had mastered the Sense of Evasion, he might have been dead.

Once he recognized it, his body reacted.

It was quite a satisfying opponent. But there were also gaps.

Sure, there was a clear difference in skill compared to the ones who had come with the beast-girl Dunbachel.

‘Above elite, below Knight.’

That was his assessment of his opponent’s skill.

With this thought, Encrid thrust his sword again.

The daggers flew in once more.

It was a technique he had seen before.

Thump!

It wasn’t just the Sense of Evasion he had honed while dealing with those knolls.

His swordsmanship had improved, and he also had the Heart of Great Strength.

Activating his heart, power surged through his entire body.

He put more weight on his left foot, pressing forward as if pushing down. He applied force, imbuing it with an unpredictable strength.

His concentration and sharp senses made the incoming daggers appear not as afterimages, but as clear, distinct movements.

Clang!

Sparks flew as the daggers struck the blade of his sword. But that was all. For a technique to be effective, it required at least comparable strength.

The daggers couldn’t push or deflect Encrid’s sword.

He pressed down with overwhelming strength.

In the slowed time, he saw his opponent’s eyes. Seeing the panic in those eyes, Encrid thrust his sword.

Squelch.

The leather armor covering his opponent’s chest tore as the blade pierced through. The opponent tried to twist his body to deflect the sword until the very end, but Encrid’s sword was too good.

The blade ruthlessly cut through the leather.

Piercing the remaining flesh and muscle was a trivial matter.

Starting below the collarbone, he thrust diagonally and then pulled the sword out, causing blood to spurt out.

Whiz!

A short arrow flew towards Encrid.

Ragna dodged it as part of a seamless movement.

Encrid mimicked this.

Dodging the arrow, he pivoted on his left foot, momentarily showing his back to conceal the start and end of his movement, and threw a dagger.

Whoosh!

The female thief, who resembled a monkey, didn’t expect this and was hit in the thigh by the knife.

“Ugh!”

The monkey-like female thief froze on the branch.

Encrid’s fight ended relatively quickly.

Why wouldn’t it? It only took two exchanges of attack and defense.

Encrid’s gaze naturally turned to Rem and Ragna.

They were, unsurprisingly, overwhelming their opponents.

Those who boasted that they could kill even a Knight with favorable circumstances were clearly superior in skill.

The reason for their defeat was, of course, ignorance.

They didn’t know about Encrid and the Madmen Platoon.

And because they didn’t know, they had to suffer.

Encrid’s gaze turned to Ragna.

Whoosh.

The spiked spear made a feint to stab, then swung horizontally. Ragna matched it with a swing of his sword.

Defense? No.

Clang, crash.

‘Bind.’

Blocking with the blade would damage it, so he blocked with the flat of the sword, adjusting his strength to bind the spear with his sword.

Then, spears and rapiers flew from both sides of Ragna.

Both seemed to use speed as their weapon.

The ferocity of the weapons coming from the hands of the two female thieves was intimidating.

In a brief moment, Ragna combined several movements into one.

First, he gripped his sword with both hands and lifted the spear to his left side, curling it upwards. The flat of his sword stayed in contact, maintaining the bind.

This way, he twisted the spear’s trajectory and thrust forward. It wasn’t fast or slow.

As he advanced with his sword bound, the spears and rapiers crossed through where Ragna had been standing.

The male thief with the spiked spear gritted his teeth, pulled his spear inward, and pushed away the thrusting blade.

Ragna took another step forward without exerting much force.

He aimed the tip of his sword at the left side of the thief’s head. Although the thief with the spiked spear leaned back, he couldn’t completely avoid it.

Slash.

With a chilling sound, half of his ear was cut off.

Blood flowed down the left side of his face, dripping steadily.

The hands of the two female thieves waiting nearby moved even faster.

The rapiers flew like they were dancing, and the female thief with the spear swung it wide, aiming at his feet.

Right after cutting the ear, Ragna retrieved his sword to deflect the incoming rapier and leaped sideways to avoid the spear targeting his feet.

It was a remarkable blend of distance control and precise swordsmanship.

‘Why?’

Seeing this, Encrid wondered. It felt like Ragna was gauging the enemy’s skill while fighting. Shortly after noticing, he understood.

‘He’s showing me.’

What is swordsmanship?

Every movement has meaning.

Ragna’s evasive maneuver had a deeper meaning. He moved to the right side of the thief with the spiked spear, forcing the female thief with the rapier to look at Ragna across the thief with the spear.

Without taking a breath, Ragna thrust with one hand.

As he moved back, he struck again, targeting the neck of the thief with the spiked spear.

Again, it wasn’t a fast or slow thrust.

To put it more clearly:

‘Just fast enough for the opponent to block.’

Encrid’s eyes became busier. His mind even more so.

Each of Ragna’s movements was a lesson. It was a learning opportunity, a manual that shouldn’t be missed.

But he couldn’t just watch Ragna, because Rem was doing something similar.

“Ha!”

With a strange shout, Rem swung his axe vertically. One of the approaching thieves blocked with a longsword.

Clang!

The sword broke in one strike.

“You bastard, my axe is a good one!”

Indeed, that was a good axe.

It was one Encrid had picked up from a mercenary and given to Rem.

Rem was also fighting while conserving his strength. He, too, focused on demonstrating rather than just fighting.

While Ragna emphasized precision and the meaning behind the form of swordsmanship, Rem demonstrated the method of fighting by using relatively superior strength rather than focusing solely on swordsmanship.

If you have an advantage over your opponent, why not use it?

It was as if Encrid could hear Rem’s words.

Rem’s way of fighting. He didn’t just use his axe to win against his opponents.

He constantly provoked them, irritating them to no end.

“Is your mother a ghoul?”

He also showed techniques Encrid had learned from him.

Even so, he used his axe skillfully to deflect, strike, and slash his opponents’ weapons.

His unhesitant footwork skillfully positioned him in better spots than his opponents.

Watching them both, Encrid realized something anew.

‘Those two are better at showing than telling.’

In a brief moment, Encrid felt he understood what they were conveying.

Indeed, that’s what it felt like.

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