A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

“What do you mean by that?”

“Shinar-nim is over four hundred years old.”

“That old?”

“Yeah.”

“Then instead of calling her Big Sister, shouldn’t we be calling her Grandma?”

“She gets mad if you do.”

“Oh.”

A gentleman doesn’t mock a lady about her age. Crang nodded, a gesture that surely meant he’d never joke about it again.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to ask her.”

“Ask what?”

“If keeping that duty or whatever it was... was really what she wanted.”

Maybe some people truly desired to live bound by obligation. But before making assumptions, Enkrid wanted to hear it from her directly.

And if asked why—

“It’s a hunch.”

Words and actions from Shinar echoed in his mind.

Especially what she said the night before she left. In those words, he had now come to detect a deep, bitter regret, like tea brewed too long and steeped in melancholy.

He’d thought she was indifferent then, but in hindsight, that very indifference was a sign.

“It was fun, though.”

She meant everything up to now had been enjoyable. But beyond that? Likely not.

So I have to ask. I need to go ask.

That was Enkrid’s resolve.

“As you wish,” Crang said, crossing his legs. He didn’t know Shinar’s true feelings either.

“Where is the fairy city?”

“No idea.”

“I see.”

After exchanging a few minor words, Enkrid began his search for the fairy city the next day.

He started by asking Kraiss.

“After Shinar disappeared, I did activate the information guild, but... I heard she’s hiding somewhere in the mountains? They say there’s a barrier, which makes it hard to locate.”

Kraiss frowned as he spoke, indicating that although he had tried to investigate, he hadn’t found anything conclusive.

Then Enkrid asked everyone else.

“You think I’d know something like that?”

Rem was a no-go.

“My knowledge doesn’t reach that far, Brother. Once the Will you’re nurturing matures, why not move ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) on to the next? I must get back to it.”

Audin didn’t know either.

Surprisingly, Ragna acted like he might.

“The fairy city? I’ve seen some folk with leaf and twig clothes. Want me to take you?”

Of course, Enkrid declined. If he followed that guide, he might end up in a dwarf village instead, and it could take years to get there.

“If you’re trying to visit another dimension for fun, that sounds great,” Rem quipped.

That comment started a new round of fighting between Rem and Ragna. Enkrid turned to Jaxon, who just shook his head.

“There’s more than one fairy clan. We need to find the one Shinar is with.”

According to Jaxon, just locating the right place was going to be a nightmare.

If it were easy, Kraiss would’ve already figured it out through the guild.

“But why did you try looking into where Shinar went?”

Curious, Enkrid asked Kraiss directly.

“Eh... no particular reason.”

Maybe it was instinct, or just his reflexive drive to gather information.

“I figured if you ever came asking, I should be able to say, ‘She’s there.’ If I had to give a reason, that’s it. Kinda awkward now that I couldn’t actually find her, though.”

People say the wise prepare in advance, and Enkrid figured that was true here.

When he said as much, Kraiss responded like he didn’t get what Enkrid meant.

“I just checked this and that, and when you look everywhere and do everything, you sometimes get lucky. Otherwise, I start feeling anxious.”

Maybe Kraiss’s compulsive information hoarding was fueled by chronic anxiety.

It wasn’t about foreseeing the future, but preparing so thoroughly that he could react when something did happen. Enkrid believed that kind of preparation was wisdom in itself.

Did Shinar prepare in the same way?

To break her curse, or fulfill her duty—what did she need?

“No idea. The fairy cities aren’t really fond of visitors.”

Even Lua Gharne didn’t know. No one seemed to.

“I’ve lived in the wilds all my life, and now I live here. My talents lie in swordsmanship, not navigation.”

“I’m good at finding things. I told you I’d take you,” Ragna chimed in when Enkrid asked Peld.

“You, no thanks.”

Enkrid shut him down politely. He didn’t believe Ragna was lying—Ragna wasn’t that kind of guy. But how he’d ever ended up in a fairy city in the first place remained a mystery.

“Why am I getting angry all of a sudden?” Ragna muttered.

Rem, still bitter about getting edged out slightly in a recent spar, cut in.

“Teaching you navigation would be harder than teaching table manners to a ghoul.”

“Excuse me? That coming from the idiot who slammed his shin with his own axe handle?”

Rem had done that—intentionally, to use the recoil for momentum—but Ragna didn’t care. He poked fun anyway.

The two of them were bickering again.

Come to think of it, Ragna had gotten much better at trash talk recently.

Nearby, Rophod was muttering their conversation under his breath, repeating it several times.

“What are you doing?”

“Last time I got baited in a fight and lost a war of words. It pissed me off so much I’m still dreaming about it.”

He meant the time with the paladin squad. Enkrid gave him a look.

Getting baited happens. It’s no big deal.

“You wouldn’t understand this feeling, Captain.”

Enkrid wanted to say he did. Shinar had relentlessly teased him with fairy-style jokes, and he’d barely had the wit to respond.

Jokes that absurd weren’t something he dealt with often, and he wasn’t good at deflecting them either.

Even while asking around all day, Enkrid didn’t neglect his routine: training, eating, washing, and maintaining his gear.

That was when, following Aitri’s advice, he was wiping his jin-eun blade with flax oil.

The sunlight was fading early—summer had passed. The rustling of leaves blown across the ground was interrupted by soft footsteps.

A shadow approached, cutting through the low rays of sunset and overlapping with Enkrid’s own.

“You’re looking for the fairy city?”

Was it just his imagination, or did her voice carry a chill?

Enkrid looked up.

A woman stood there, clad only in an enchanted robe despite the winter chill. Long black hair, piercing blue eyes, pale skin, and crimson lips—the witch known as Esther the Black Flower.

“More precisely, I’m looking for wherever Shinar went,” Enkrid replied.

If Esther asked why, Enkrid planned to recycle the joke he’d told Crang—about how the Big Sister might still be waiting for him.

But Esther didn’t ask.

Without a trace of humor, she simply said:

“I agree. You should ask her.”

“Hm?”

“If she left, she had her reasons. If she left without saying anything, then the reasons must’ve been weighty enough to stay silent. That’s how I see it.”

“Mm?”

“So ask her. Why she had to leave. Why she did leave.”

Then, Esther raised her hand and touched Enkrid’s forehead. He didn’t flinch.

Her hand was ice-cold.

“Lower your barrier.”

“What?”

“If your mental defenses are too strong, I won’t be able to transmit this.”

“Transmit what, exactly?”

“You’ll understand once you receive it.”

That chill wasn’t just in his head. Esther’s touch was frigid, her breath fogged the air, and her proximity let cold seep straight through his clothes.

It wasn’t quite enough to call it a hug. Probably just the result of a recent spellcasting session.

Enkrid thought about what a “mental barrier” might be and closed his eyes.

Then, he imagined a wall, drew a door into it, and opened that door in his mind’s eye.

As soon as he did, something began to sink into his consciousness.

It was a map, pointing to a specific place. But more than just a direction—it had annotations. A guide.

“Before Shinar left, she told me about her people. That’s where she went,” Esther said.

She was a witch, and witches often lived in forest huts.

Not for flair—it was practical. The woods were full of herbs and alchemical reagents, ideal for magical experimentation.

And she wasn’t the only one after those resources.

Fairies and druids were often neighbors in those forests.

From what Shinar had told her before leaving, it wasn’t hard for Esther to deduce where she had gone.

Shinar probably hadn’t expected that.

“Wanna come with me?” Enkrid asked, opening his eyes.

Esther withdrew her hand and offered a faint smile.

“I’m busy.”

“Oh... alright.”

Enkrid posed the same question to others.

“Sorry, really. You’re asking so sincerely it hurts to say no... But something’s come up. I’ve got a wayfinding idiot whose skull I need to crack. Took a few days off and now I’m out of rhythm. How about I catch up in a few days?”

Enkrid asked, “When did I ever sincerely ask you?”

All he’d done was ask a single question.

“You’re clinging to my pants like a desperate lover. It’s awkward. I’ll join up later if I can.”

Yeah. You’re definitely not coming.

Ragna had been gaining the edge in a few recent spars. Now he was investing that momentum into more training.

And who had the nerve to say he’d been taking days off?

Rem hadn’t had a break in weeks, chopping up his days like everyone else in the Mad Platoon.

That was Enkrid’s influence. It had become their way of life.

“Sister Teresa’s approaching a critical point, and I’m laying the groundwork for Sister Seiki. Still, if you really need me, I suppose I should go...” Audin offered.

“It was just a question. Don’t worry about it.”

Enkrid wasn’t sure when it had happened, but Audin had started to pick up some of Rem’s habits. Not necessarily the better ones.

“Need a guide, then?” Ragna offered again, but Enkrid had already declined.

Not that Rem let things be.

“Running away? Chickening out?”

“Maybe all those beatings finally broke your brain.”

“I was never hit in the head. You lost wanderer.”

Let those two go at it again.

Their sparring had improved a lot lately.

What Enkrid didn’t realize—but everyone else did—was why they were so fired up.

It was because of what he had shown them during his spar with Rem.

He hadn’t just held his own. He had delivered a clean, focused blow imbued with Will—one that could have been fatal.

Seeing that had left no room for complacency.

Audin’s subtle air of superiority also spurred them on.

He had awakened his divine power, putting him a step ahead of both.

Rem and Ragna knew that.

“It might be lonely going alone, but I’ve got a date,” Jaxon said, declining as well.

In the end, Enkrid decided to travel with Lua Gharne.

Peld came along too.

“Let’s spar while we travel.”

He hadn’t said such things before, but now his eyes held clear respect, and his tone carried it too.

“Let’s.”

“I regret not being able to join,” Rophod said. But with the minority sword squad training left to him by Ragna, he couldn’t just abandon his post.

It was an important moment—and besides, Rophod was probably the busiest man in the Mad Platoon right now.

“Well then.”

Without waiting for anything else, Enkrid left.

Crang had come recently and planned to stay a few days. When he found out Enkrid had left without even telling him—

He cornered Kraiss and asked:

“He didn’t forget about me... right?”

“...No way.”

But Kraiss didn’t sound convincing.

Yeah. Enkrid had definitely forgotten.