A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

“A child who stepped onto my land is crying — there’s no reason not to save them.”

That was the reason for the request written in Crang’s letter.

More precisely, it was about not being able to overlook something obviously wrong right in front of his eyes.

As an example, Crang never tolerated the rise of bandits anywhere within the kingdom’s territory.

Of course, there might have been those who turned to banditry out of sheer desperation.

Were there some who became bandits because they were oppressed by lords? Sure, a few.

But those were extremely rare.

In truth, it was better to assume there were almost none.

Living as a bandit on a land teeming with monsters and beastmen was almost impossible unless you were extremely confident in your own skills.

Thus, anyone working in a profession that wasn’t mercenary or bodyguard inside Naurillia now — it simply meant they preferred stealing and robbing.

Gone were the days when some grand noble would sponsor a bandit group to invade another noble’s territory.

“To live by stealing and robbing like a bandit or a marauder!”

Saying such a thing now was basically the same as praying with all your heart for someone to quickly come and chop off your head.

Whenever Crang even sniffed movement from bandits, he would mobilize royal troops under the kingdom’s direct command and strike them down.

If that wasn’t enough, he would even send out the Capital Guard.

Because of that, it had become nearly impossible to find large marauder bands or bandit groups roaming the wide lands of the kingdom anymore.

The only thing left were criminal guilds clinging to the cities.

Even then, if any of them were caught engaging in human trafficking, they were done for. No excuse or bribe could save them.

And now, someone had kidnapped a child and crossed into Naurillia?

How could you leave a bastard like that alone?

It was as if Crang were asking.

“Agreed.”

Enkrid immediately decided to follow Crang’s will. This was the reason he had initially set out for this task. Honestly, it was everything. —The empire’s and the great kingdom’s guests were already forgotten in Enkrid’s mind.— Now, Audin’s past had simply been added on top.

From the beginning, there had been some motivation, but now it had turned even more active.

Enkrid extended the line of thinking he’d had all along.

Every task starts with a question.

What do you need to properly swing a sword?

A certain level of physical strength. So first, he had built strength.

Question, seek the answer, then act.

It was the same now. To solve this matter, Enkrid asked himself:

Where should I start?

It wasn’t his first time handling such things.

‘It’s been a while since I’ve done bounty hunting.’

Chasing kidnappers wasn’t all that different from chasing a criminal with a bounty on their head.

In fact, once it reached the point of being chased, both situations were almost identical.

Did you need to move while avoiding human eyes?

Yes.

Could you not afford to be recognized?

Yes.

If you encountered suspicious stares or felt a bad instinct, should you run?

Yes.

If necessary, should you eliminate all witnesses and move on?

Yes.

See? It was exactly the same.

Thus, Enkrid decided he could approach this in a similar way.

“Well, then, what I’m thinking is. Hmm.”

Enkrid trailed off and glanced at Audin and Shinar.

It would be wise to gather their opinions too, in case they had better ideas than him.

“If you have any thoughts, speak up. We don’t even know the kidnapper’s identity or the Saint’s appearance. Conditions for pursuit are the worst. Still, if you have a plan, speak.”

Audin answered first.

“I’m waiting for the Lord Father’s guidance.”

He said this with his hands clasped together, smiling, as if in prayer.

There was no need to overthink the meaning behind that.

‘In short, he’s telling me to figure it out myself.’

Enkrid readily accepted it.

He already knew, from hearing some of Audin’s past.

Audin had experience catching heretics, but he had never crossed a continent chasing a single person.

His heretic hunts involved sniffing out people hiding in the corners of cities.

Finding them and interrogating whether they were heretics — that was his main role.

Meaning, he might have become a master of beatings, but it was hard to see him as a master of tracking or hunting.

“No revelation means we just leave it?”

Enkrid asked again, just in case. It was better to be clear.

“Don’t you have the revelation, Captain Brother?”

Audin answered honestly.

One might say he was even more carefree than Ragna.

He revealed his past, burdened himself with all sorts of weight, then expected Enkrid to do all the actual work.

If he were lazy about it, Enkrid could curse him out — but no, Audin trained, prayed, and did everything he was supposed to do.

He seemed genuinely committed to the idea of “waiting for the right time.”

And when that time came, Audin would surely step forward first — that resolve was clear.

A faint glimpse of transcendence, detached from worldly concerns, could be seen in that resolve.

No matter how kind his smile was, it didn’t erase the heavy burden that still lingered in his relaxed demeanor.

No one knew how this would end. Maybe they’d just catch a simple kidnapper and be done. Maybe nothing would even happen.

But if something did happen, Audin would not hesitate to act according to his beliefs, without weighing gain or loss.

That much was clear.

Enkrid nodded calmly and then looked at Shinar.

“You’re asking me?”

She asked without even a trace of a smile.

The autumn sunlight was moderately warm, the breeze was cool, and wildflowers spread across the ground.

Even while admiring the wildflowers, Shinar sensed Enkrid’s gaze and spoke.

Her finely honed senses let her feel his gaze even without visual cues.

In terms of tracking and pursuit, she was far better than Audin.

“Finding a trail alone shouldn’t be too difficult.”

Not every fairy was swift and skilled in tracking — but Shinar was.

The problem was, she had never thought about the process leading up to finding a trail.

In short, she was an excellent short-term pursuer but had no talent for long-term pursuit that involved predicting the target’s location first.

After all, you needed a starting point to follow a trail.

If someone said, ”Start tracking from this forest,” Shinar would surely shine as a swift fairy and a master of tracking — but in the current situation, she was not much help.

‘Exactly as expected.’

To be honest, he hadn’t even hoped for much, so he wasn’t disappointed.

Enkrid remained indifferent.

Fortunately, he himself had handled plenty of such matters before.

Meanwhile, Shinar talked about the meanings of flowers she saw, and about honey in them, while Audin remarked that bees and butterflies would fly tirelessly for that honey.

In other words, both were chatting away, forgetting about the mission.

Surprisingly, there was some kind of connection between Audin and Shinar.

“You don’t seem to seek the honey.”

Shinar’s voice floated over.

Enkrid was idly watching the two while thinking, but the words branded themselves into his mind like a firebrand.

“The honey belongs to the butterflies and the bees. If a ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) passing bear beastman tried to take it, nothing would be left.”

“Bears prefer honey hidden in the trees.”

Sometimes among believers, they exchanged what were called ‘koans.’

Conversations used to probe for deeper truths — incomprehensible to outsiders, but meaningful to the ones seeking enlightenment.

Enkrid thought their dialogue resembled a koan.

And it was Shinar who had started it, and led it.

A rare sight indeed.

Shinar, who normally seemed to care nothing for others, was now speaking words of teaching to Audin.

The Shinar joking like a fairy and the Shinar now seemed like two completely different beings.

The wind blew, and the golden field came into view.

Under the clear sky with no clouds, the orange sunset lay over the earth like a blanket of light.

The field of Holy Mother flowers stretched endlessly, filling their path.

Though here and there, beasts and monster traces had marred it, the scenery was still beautiful.

Locals called this place the Field Where the Holy Mother Stayed.

In the middle of it all, the two of them looked like a painting.

One painting moved its feet restlessly and spoke.

“That’s right. Bears eat the honey hidden between the trees.”

Audin spoke, then looked at the flower field. His pupils seemed to blur slightly — but he didn’t stop walking.

It looked like he was thinking deeply while moving.

He muttered again:

“If someone desires honey, give it to them.”

It was probably something from the Holy Scriptures — the way he spoke suggested so.

“If someone tries to hoard the honey, then that one is steeped in evil. Rebuke them harshly and send them to the side of the Lord.”

Going to the Lord’s side was synonymous with death — meaning, kill such people.

They say after three years serving a noble as a squire, even a dog learns court manners.

Enkrid felt it was the same for him.

After hearing Audin’s prayers so many times, he could mostly understand now.

“But that task should fall to someone qualified.”

Audin spoke like an emotionless doll and then fell silent.

It wasn’t that Shinar felt guilty and said something.

She simply didn’t care about Audin’s reaction. She didn’t push.

Instead, she looked at the flower field.

“My fiancé, that flower bed looks like a bed prepared for us.”

It was a fairy-style joke.

“Go ahead and take a nap if you want.”

Enkrid answered roughly, choosing to continue his thoughts.

Whatever Audin’s inner mind was, it wasn’t something to pry into now.

There was work to be done.

And so Enkrid did.

Walking and staring at the flower fields, he extended his thoughts toward what was needed for a pursuit.

‘The most important thing is information.’

Yes, information.

Where the target was, their condition, their appearance — that sort of thing.

Though the request came, the pursuers from the Holy Nation hadn’t provided any information.

Understandable, honestly.

They hadn’t really asked for help in the first place.

So then, how to gather information?

The solution he devised came from his own experience — and also from Crace’s suggestions.

Just before setting out, he had discussed it with Crace.

“I picked up some rumors through the Gilpin Guild. Remember that city we visited? Where you told me to put a knife to the village chief’s neck? The one that wanted to name their wall after you?”

After repeating so many days, it felt like ancient history — but it wasn’t something easily forgotten.

How could he forget the Null colony the cultists built?

“And what about that village?”

“The kidnapper headed there.”

Their first destination after leaving Border Guard was decided.

However, Enkrid still didn’t know what the kidnapper or the Saint even looked like, or how old they were.

But did that mean there was no way?

No. There was.

Since they didn’t know the target, they would chase the ones chasing the target.

It was a technique he first learned from a senior bounty hunter.

“Hey, people like us can’t afford to pay for intel. You think we’ve got money to waste on a guild? Forget it. Instead, memorize the faces of famous hunters. If you see one, stick to them like glue.”

It was a brilliant technique.

Famous targets always attracted pursuers.

If they vanished completely?

Well, those types were never your targets to begin with.

“And if you chase alone, you think you can catch them?”

What kind of skill would a bounty target have?

Would someone weak survive where bandits and monsters roamed hand in hand?

No.

Of course not.

Thus, if a bounty had been set, they were usually very skilled — almost certainly.

“Our job’s to scavenge the leftovers. If you want to live long, stick to the hunter’s code.”

There was such a teaching.

Not that Enkrid had ever cared to stick to the hunter’s code.

Don’t hunt alone if you can’t win.

If you see blood, shoot your crossbow or throw knives first.

It was full of teachings like that.

His first senior was a good guy.

The next one he met was trash — shoving him forward, promising seventy percent of the bounty, only to try to stab him in the back.

“Sorry, sorry, I was just in a rush.”

One even held up a dagger and said that after he got hurt.

Enkrid decided he would now make use of those lessons.

Since he didn’t know the target — he would chase the pursuers instead.