A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

Plip. Plip.

Though the rain had suddenly begun to fall, not a single person suggested moving somewhere with shelter to talk.

Dark clouds veiled the moon, and the surroundings quickly dimmed.

Just moments ago, the area had been lit by divine radiance and brilliance. Compared to that, it now looked even darker.

No one lit a holy light just for visibility.

No one had the luxury to do so.

And amid all that, the Holy Knight finally opened his mouth.

“It was around that time, I believe.”

The falling rain soaked the old knight’s hair and brows.

His silver eyes turned upward, toward the empty sky where the rain fell — as if remembering the past.

Earlier, it had been the divine radiance that erased the sunset. Now, the rain took on that role. Darkness was creeping in. Soon, it would be pitch black, far darker than now.

Amid that encroaching darkness, the soft glow in the Holy Knight’s eyes gave off a mystical air.

“It was then that I felt I had finally become a complete warrior. But when I looked back, I saw the tree I had nurtured all my life — and it bore not apples, but poisonous fruit. Can you understand how I felt then? Can you imagine it?”

When Enkrid first saw him, Overdeer looked like he was in his middle years. But now, strangely, the man sounded and felt like a true elder.

Speaking of the past seemed to add years to his presence. Though his appearance hadn’t drastically changed, it was peculiar.

It was strange — how tone and speech could so drastically alter the impression of someone’s age.

The rain began to fall harder. It wasn’t yet the season for snow, but the rain was plenty cold.

“At that time, this old man realized he couldn’t even uproot that tree. That the power of this small race of ours is truly insignificant.”

A Holy Knight, and one who had just been defeated, saying such things — was that appropriate?

Enkrid thought such things as he watched.

Overdeer didn’t stop speaking.

He went on about how he decided to wander the continent afterward, that he couldn’t distinguish between well-grown fruit and poisoned ones anymore, so he did nothing. A long, drawn-out explanation. But to Enkrid, there were holes in the story.

At least, that’s how it seemed to him.

In short — he wasn’t swayed by Overdeer’s supposed regrets.

In fact, the knight’s current demeanor felt off. It reminded him of how Kraiss had acted when he was trying to spin the situation with the Krona.

Not a lie, exactly, but lacking sincerity.

Which made the holes in his logic all the more apparent.

Like this, for example—

“Since monsters and beasts were rising across the continent, someone had to fight them. In the end, this old knight had no choice but to step up.”

That kind of statement rubbed Enkrid the wrong way.

Originally, Holy Knight Overdeer had been a part of the Divine Nation, tasked with guarding a portion of the Demon Realm. Leaving that post to go “wandering” essentially meant he abandoned his position. A convenient excuse. But if you stripped it down to the facts, he’d dumped his responsibilities on some new rookie knight and bailed.

“I set out on a pilgrimage for the purification of the continent.”

That sounded noble — but in reality, it was just a fancy way to say he’d roamed around at his own whim.

Enkrid didn’t bother pointing that out.

Everyone here could read between the lines.

If you were paying attention, the meaning was obvious. If not — then you didn’t care.

Audin said nothing, catching his breath.

Shinar looked like she didn’t care in the slightest.

Enkrid didn’t know, but Shinar had already concluded: if it came to a fight, she could take him down.

But that wasn’t likely anymore.

Just moments ago, blood had flown, but now both sides had pulled back their hostility.

And no race was more sensitive to those subtle changes than fairies.

Shinar knew the fight was over.

Then again, neither side had fought out of pure hostility.

One had acted according to the values he upheld.

The other did what he felt necessary.

The former was Enkrid. The latter — Overdeer.

Their blades had crossed. Blows exchanged. Yet in that clash, Enkrid had sensed something in the man’s posture and movements.

He was definitely ready to drown us if needed...

But there was no malice in that intent.

“This old man was waiting for a revelation.”

Considering what had just happened, the old knight’s words didn’t really hit home.

If he was waiting for a revelation, why was Bert — an Inquisitor — clearly one of his people?

And why wedge that between a priest and a templar?

Even if it was hard to pinpoint the exact intent, there was no doubt there was an intent.

And that meant something, too.

“But now, the revelation has led me here.”

This man was a snake.

Still smiling, the old Holy Knight kept talking. How he had followed revelations thus far, how he would continue to do so, and how he would burn the last of his life for the Church’s purification.

It was all vague. No specifics.

But it was clear he hadn’t come here without purpose.

Even with the ambiguity, there were lines that gave away just enough.

Overdeer — the old Holy Knight — seemed to be meeting with Church members scattered across the continent, binding them to his side.

Why?

He’d already said it: Church purification.

At that point, Enkrid had a thought.

Isn’t this more of a plan than a revelation?

Even what had just happened would’ve gone similarly, even if Enkrid weren’t here.

Wasn’t this just a process of testing Church members by planting Bert in the pursuit squad?

When they deemed someone useless — they just crushed their skull.

Didn’t he do something similar to me?

Yes.

He might not have killed him, but he had fully intended to cripple him. That intent had vanished now — but it had once been there.

A habit of measuring people? Possibly.

A person’s rank or job doesn’t guarantee their character.

Likewise, being poor doesn’t mean you’re good, and being rich doesn’t mean you’re evil.

It was obvious — but many forgot this truth.

So just because he was a Holy Knight didn’t mean Enkrid had to hold any illusions about Overdeer.

At the same time, there was no need to judge the man too harshly either. You couldn’t know someone from one side alone.

Then what about the Saintess?

He had never once brought her up.

Judging by his habits and tone, he had probably had some plan.

But now it seems he’s let it go cleanly.

In that case, there was no need to press it.

One thing was clear:

Church purification — that intent, at least, was sincere and resolute.

Every time he spoke of it, Overdeer’s eyes showed no hint of deception.

In some ways, it aligned with Audin’s will.

Their paths might be different, but the aim was the same.

Swaaahhh...

The rain grew heavier now. The sound changed. Even knights couldn’t deflect the downpour.

Holy Knights were no exception.

Enkrid peeled wet strands of hair from his face and said:

“Shall we at least take shelter before we talk further?”

He spoke politely. After all, it was hard to call the man an enemy now — and he was over a hundred years old, wasn’t he?

“Apologies, but I must leave right away. A new revelation awaits me.”

Meaning — he had another plan, and not much time.

“A busy man, I see.”

Shinar tossed out the comment — not with warmth.

It sounded like: If you’re so busy, what the hell were you doing here causing trouble?

Of course, Shinar likely didn’t mean to pick a fight.

She just hadn’t enjoyed how the earlier swordplay had gone — hence the jab.

Overdeer was still smiling.

“I merely live as the revelations guide me.”

Which meant he still had plenty to do in the name of Church purification.

Enkrid took it that way.

Overdeer, valuing courtesy, spoke formally even to Shinar.

“And on that note — may I ask for your help, from both of you?”

Without waiting for permission, Overdeer began to share part of his plan. Well-dressed, under the name of “revelation.”

“Thanks to the revelation, I can no longer leave him be.”

He began that way — but to summarize the content: he wanted to assassinate a high-ranking archbishop, a master of divine magic.

He said the archbishop’s divine spells were his natural counter, that the man had a following of blind templars, and that he couldn’t kill them all.

“Uh, s-should you really be saying all that...?”

Bert, who’d been listening, glanced around nervously and muttered in shock.

Overdeer waved a hand to silence him and finished his story to the end. The conclusion — he was planning an assassination.

“The revelation guides me.”

At this point, it sounded less like an assassination plan and more like an assassination revelation.

Either way, the intent was the same.

“Brother [N O V E L I G H T] Captain.”

Before Enkrid could say anything, Audin called to him and asked,

“May I take a short leave?”

Enkrid saw the light radiating from Audin’s entire body.

And he remembered the words Audin had once spoken to him—

That he was trying to step out from the prison of delusion.

Then what was that light?

Was it the shackle that once bound him?

Had Audin now stepped out of his prison?

Had he finally set foot into the world?

And if so, what was the first thing a man does when he escapes that prison?

Idle thoughts. Enkrid gave a nod.

“Go.”

“It won’t be long, Brother. So please, when you return, deliver a message to Brother Barbarian and the others.”

“What message?”

“To prepare themselves. That when I return, I’ll instruct them. And they needn’t call me the elder brother because of age.”

So he wanted to fight it out — the kind of duel where the winner becomes the older brother.

Enkrid understood and nodded again.

“Alright.”

Same tone. Same answer, twice.

Enkrid was calm.

He hadn’t predicted this, but he accepted it without surprise.

To Overdeer, that composure was strangely striking.

So this is the Knight of Iron Walls... truly a man of a different mold.

That thought crossed his mind.

“Come along, won’t you? Mysterious old Holy Knight whose insides no one knows.”

Sometimes, Audin couldn’t help but say what was on his mind.

In truth, that was a chronic habit of the entire Mad Squad.

People really ought to learn restraint sometimes...

Enkrid often worried about that trait.

Naturally, he didn’t share it as much as the others.

That jab he took at Alma earlier — that was a different matter.

That was something he just had to say.

After all, Count Molsen had already played the make-your-own-knight game, and got his face beaten in for it.

Someone had to let the man know.

Not that Alma ever understood what he meant.

“That title is quite something. Are you alright?”

Overdeer wasn’t fazed by such jabs.

If enduring a few years of insults meant he could wipe the Church clean, he’d gladly do it.

“I’ll be fine once I walk it off. More importantly, are you alright from that hit? I do worry that your old, ailing body might have taken too much.”

Audin had a longer-lasting temper than people expected, and every word now was a poke at Overdeer’s nerves.

To punch someone and then ask if they’re okay...

It was nearly provocation.

But the old Holy Knight, a man of deep discipline, accepted it without trouble.

“I’m fine. This body may be old, but I’ve no trouble walking.”

Just as they were finishing the exchange—

“Whoooah! Deutsch Pullman reporting for duty!”

With a shout came the man of loyalty — Deutsch Pullman, lord of the city, arriving with ten soldiers in tow.

No one was surprised. They’d all heard someone approaching amid the falling rain.

Only Bert, the Inquisitor, flinched.

Without torches, the dozen soldiers rushed in through the darkness thickened by the moon-obscuring rain.

Thanks to her fairy eyes, Shinar recognized them first. The rest used their honed senses to pinpoint their position.

But Deutsch Pullman had no such ability — he simply charged in blindly.

Even with rain pounding and his vision blocked, he pressed forward.

What if his benefactors were in danger?

Of course, he knew his own strength was limited. But if his hand could tip the balance, even slightly?

Then that was enough.

It might not be everything — but it wasn’t nothing. And that was reason enough to act.

I will help!

That was the will driving him.

That was the scene — Deutsch charging forward, barely able to see, but with his resolve clear to all.

“I must commend your courage, Deutsch Pullman.”

Overdeer was the first to speak, and Enkrid followed.

“It’s over now. Instead, we’d appreciate a hot bath, a meal, and a place to rest.”

Deutsch had risked his life to be here — but that didn’t mean he wanted to die.

So he was relieved to hear it was resolved.

From the tone, it sounded like everything had wrapped up fine.

He tried glancing around in the dark, but there wasn’t much to see.

“Ah, yes, of course. I’ll make it happen.”

He lowered his weapon and responded.

Meanwhile, Audin placed a hand on the shoulder of the infiltrator Overdeer had planted.

“You said your name was Inquisitor Bert?”

“Y-Yes, that’s right.”

Bert tensed.

He knew full well that the hand on his shoulder could rip his head off at any moment.

And knowing Overdeer, he wouldn’t necessarily stop it.

For the sake of Church purification, a few bodies were probably a small price to pay.

“Have you recently seen someone who was gravely ill or wounded recover unusually quickly?”

It was a sudden question — but collecting information across the continent was part of Bert’s job.

He rolled his eyes a few times, thinking, then answered.

“Yes, I’ve heard such a rumor.”

“Could you track that rumor and find someone for me?”

“Who... exactly?”

“Among those recently healed, seek the wealthy. Ask anyone who had a handful of gold coins taken from them — their story will lead you. I don’t know the name. But once you find the city where he’s suspected to be, go to its largest inn and ask for Audin’s father. If no one’s been robbed, then check the slums. They call him the Ragged Saint, but he won’t necessarily be dressed in rags.”

“......Huh?”

Bert tilted his head, confused.

Even Enkrid, listening nearby, was baffled.

Did he just say... his father?