A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

“There was something called the Beast’s Heart, right? Teach me.”

Someone had once asked that, wanting to learn.

Rem thought the guy would be dead within a month at best. When the next battle was two weeks away, she figured he wouldn’t last past that.

Ragna didn’t care either way. As long as no one messed with him, that was enough. When the time came, he planned to leave the Mad Squad behind without a fuss.

The thing was, even he didn’t know when that time would be.

A swordsman, lost in both direction and purpose, only began to move after he saw Enkrid.

Until then, he was like a carriage with no wheels. A child whose growth had come to a standstill. A statue frozen in place.

But once he started walking, Ragna began to gain a will of his own.

And it all began with that squad leader.

To Audin, Enkrid had once been no different from a messenger sent by God, though his thoughts had shifted now.

“Not a messenger—just a man trying to live.”

There are people like that in this world. Realizing that alone had brought profound change within Audin.

“What matters is your mindset.”

He no longer needed an immediate answer from God to feel okay.

“For what do I fight?”

It didn’t have to be noble. It didn’t have to be holy. There was no need for his purpose to be lofty and worthy of respect.

Only those who could trust themselves wouldn’t waver.

And even if they did waver, it wasn’t a sin. If a mistake was made, it could be corrected. If one realized they were late, they could still move forward.

Even if God’s voice no longer reached him, the divine will had already soaked into him.

The beginning of all this was that madman of a squad leader.

“Does memorizing that make you feel better?”

When Teresa had asked him that the first time, Audin had answered plainly.

“No, not really.”

“Then why read it?”

“It’s fun.”

“Fun?”

“Yes, I read it because it’s enjoyable, Sister. If you have something to say, please go ahead.”

And Teresa had confessed what was on her mind.

“Do you believe the world is trying to crush you? That the giant’s blood in your body will eventually erode your sanity and turn you into a beast driven by instinct? That if you’re doomed to die, you’d rather fall by Enkrid’s sword?”

That’s what she had said.

And while she spoke to Teresa, Audin realized he was speaking to himself as well.

Sealing away his divinity, wandering the battlefield—what was he seeking, life or death?

And amid that wandering, he encountered a man named Enkrid.

A madman walking a tightrope on the edge of death.

“What is it that drives you, brother?”

“Hm?”

“What do you fight for?”

“I want to become a knight.”

A simple dream. Neither hidden nor dressed up.

And in that moment, Audin understood for the first time what he wanted.

“Lord, have you been watching over me?”

As everyone sat in their thoughts, Jaxon dropped down from the rooftop.

“There doesn’t seem to be any option other than killing. And right now, I can’t even do that.”

Master of Geor Dagger, the assassination guild. Lord of Morning Dew.

Anyone who knew Jaxon’s true identity would find his words shockingly unexpected.

He had just admitted, with his own mouth, that he currently had no way of killing Enkrid.

If his subordinate—or his lover—had heard that, they would’ve told him to stop joking.

They had all been pushed back. They’d lost. Whether they said it out loud or not, they had already accepted defeat in their hearts.

These were people who had long developed the habit of violently resisting even the slightest chance of losing, and yet—there was no bitterness in their expressions. Not even a little. The same went for Jaxon.

Before them stood a man who didn’t carve his path with blood, blades, and poison, but with life, vitality, and dreams.

Someone who once would’ve died with a mere push had become a knight—and had now returned, sword in hand, after slaying a demon.

He’d killed a demon, slaughtered cultists, and awakened something within himself.

“So, how does it feel?”

Jaxon asked again. Not just the four of them—Rophod and Teresa were also present. Six pairs of eyes were watching. And beside the rooftop where Jaxon had stood, a leopard stood proudly on all fours.

Enkrid sheathed his sword with a ching and raised one hand above his head. Everyone waited for his answer.

It [N O V E L I G H T] was shocking enough that he had become a knight, but now he had surpassed even his own subordinates.

They wanted to ask how it felt to make it this far.

They were united in that one thought, watching him in shared anticipation.

Just as a warm sense of expectation replaced their competitive spirits—

Scritch.

Enkrid scratched his head, glancing awkwardly around with twitching brows, and muttered:

“So this really isn’t a joke?”

No one said a word.

What the hell did he just say?

If that was meant to provoke, it was a damn sharp blade.

A vein throbbed visibly on Rem’s forehead. Ragna clicked his tongue in disbelief.

Audin quietly began praying, “Lord, shall I send one?”

Jaxon had already drawn a Silence Dagger.

Rem asked, “...Should I just kill him?”

“We don’t even need all four. Two’s enough,” Ragna replied.

Since Enkrid had left, the two had gotten so hostile they nearly fought to the death. There had already been blood spilled between their squads.

A bit of rivalry could improve skill, but any extreme always came with its shadow.

And when it came to young blood, hotheadedness was inevitable.

Rem’s subordinates, whether young or old, were all of that hot-blooded type.

Not that Ragna’s troops were any gentler—clashes were inevitable.

Kraiss had to constantly adjust their activity schedules to keep the two squads apart, that’s how bad it had gotten.

And yet now, the two leaders who’d practically tried to kill each other were completely in sync.

“Draw his attention from the front, and the wildcat stabs him from behind. Done.”

Rem laid out the plan.

“Perfect. You take left, I’ll take right.”

“Whichever. As long as we get his attention.”

“Cool.”

Their coordination was effortless. Kraiss, who used to stress over whether the two would murder each other in Enkrid’s absence, would be glad and also heartbroken if he saw this.

If they could work this well together, why the hell had they spent so long trying to tear each other apart?

Ever since they nearly killed each other during a sparring match, the atmosphere had been unbearably tense.

The Mad Squad without Enkrid had been quiet, too.

Each leader trained their own troops, activity continued—but it lacked the same energy. Or rather, the intensity had changed.

Problems were everywhere, but Kraiss understood the root cause. He was just doing damage control until the inevitable return.

Everything would be fine as soon as Enkrid came back.

“Let’s talk later. This feels... awkward.”

Enkrid said it sincerely after seeing their reactions. It still didn’t feel real to him.

He assumed Rem, Ragna, and Audin had all stopped themselves from acting—but honestly, that wasn’t wrong.

“If you go any further, this will turn into a real fight to the death. And even then, I’m not confident I’d win right now.”

Lua Gharne, who had been watching quietly, read his mindset and spoke.

If it was just a matter of strength and technique, only a real fight would reveal the outcome. But even now, the vibe was clear.

Rem, Ragna, Audin, and Jaxon—none of them claimed they’d definitely win.

“There’s a gap between what you feel and what you understand. So just refine things and let’s talk again.”

He’d meant to go find Aitri, but needed to sort through his own experience before he could explain it properly.

So Enkrid, upon returning, roughly unpacked and started swinging his sword.

It was such an Enkrid thing to do. Maybe even a little dumb—working through the disconnect by moving his body.

But no one disliked seeing it.

“Hey, you damned directionless bastard. I’ll personally guide you. Join the training.”

Rem’s eyes curved with excitement. Seeing that madness in their captain always stirred something in her. That relentless, madman spirit.

“I was about to say the same. Follow me to the mountain range.”

Ragna was no different. He wanted another go at Enkrid, but he knew—if he held back like he did for Rem, it wouldn’t be a real fight.

He couldn’t stop unless real blood was shed. Sparring alone wouldn’t be enough to beat the current Enkrid. That was the conclusion.

“Why am I so hyped?”

Ragna felt an ecstatic thrill he’d never known before. He wanted to swing his sword and dive into wild, crazed training right now.

Audin, watching the two, straightened his clothes. He was going to pack up and move, too. Squad training could wait.

“Sister Teresa.”

Startled, joyful, and confused, Teresa responded.

“Will I be of any help?”

“You will.”

Audin chose Teresa as his training partner. She didn’t know it, but her potential was beyond surprising—it was explosive.

She had felt a stir of emotion upon hearing about the Apostle’s death, but quickly calmed.

She was no longer Teresa of the cult. She was Teresa of the War God. Teresa of the Mad Knight Squad.

That identity had become her emotional anchor.

The four were proud to see Enkrid’s growth—but that didn’t mean they were happy to be surpassed.

So what, they’d been caught up to? Is that the end?

“If you think you’re too late and do nothing, then nothing will ever happen.”

Enkrid often said that. And it was true. That’s why they were filled with renewed drive to move forward again.

“I’ve got someone I want to introduce you to. Let me know once things settle.”

Audin said.

Enkrid, polishing his senses, nodded.

“Got it.”

He was back, but the daily grind remained unchanged.

Kraiss came by afterward, and Enkrid asked a few questions and shared what needed to be said.

“A cult battalion? If something like that existed, it would’ve been reported by now. I mean, there are always some cultists sneaking in under false identities. Venzance almost died recently, too. Hard to catch them all.”

There wasn’t some elite cultist unit sent by the Apostle of Resurrection. Even if there had been, Enkrid wouldn’t have been worried. But that line had just been to provoke.

“So then, what did you say was coming?”

Kraiss asked again.

“Fairies.”

“And what should we be cautious about?”

“Tell them not to attack when they see a walking tree.”

“...Do we have time for an explanation?”

“By the day after tomorrow at the latest, they’ll be in sight from the southern watch road.”

As if to prove his point, Zero came up to elaborate. Kraiss listened and nodded.

“So... don’t freak out when a giant tree walks toward us?”

“Not freak out. Don’t be surprised.”

Enkrid corrected him, and Kraiss decided to save the surprise for later.

Let’s be shocked when we actually see it.

Delaying emotions helps keep your head clear. Kraiss specialized in that sort of mental control. Better to assess the situation than be paralyzed by anxiety.

The Fairy City.

A spring full of warm water—feels great once you’re in.

They only eat fruits and leaves, but even when they first settled, there was no shortage of nuts or produce.

A whole fairy city is moving here.

A migrating forest. Really?

No—pause the emotions. Now’s not the time to be surprised.

Be amazed later.

But honestly, it was worth a double take.

Kraiss refocused.

Excellent archers. Walking trees that serve as natural walls. A forest full of fairies, not monsters. Vitality everywhere. Energy, if you use their terms. Master craftsmen. Their prized fruits are energizing.

Some are specialized in alchemy—the Druid types. Then there are the Woodguards who smoke pipes. Don’t be too shocked.

Right. A fairy city is coming. The entire city.

So what’s the benefit?

What good comes from having them as neighbors?

Actually, it was easier to calculate the gains than the risks.

First, it would be like gaining a natural fortress to the south.

A forest inhabited by fairies, not monsters, naturally repels monsters and beastkin.

Trade.

And if they bartered with them, there would be plenty to gain.

Enkrid hadn’t meant anything special by his comment, but Kraiss heard exactly what he needed.

Master craftsmen. If they use fire, they’ll need metal. A migrating forest likely lacks ore. Metal becomes a prized trade item.

Grains from farming would also be a valuable item. Anything beyond leaves and fruit would be rare.

Kraiss had figured that out from observing Shinar.

So, that’s what they could offer. What about what they could get?

Anne.

She was both a healer and an alchemist. She once said the materials in a fairy forest were treasure to any alchemist.

“Ask any healer. If you could get water from the Fairy Spring, it wouldn’t just be treasure—it’d be worth killing for.”

Strangely, Anne often napped in the Mad Knight Squad’s training hall.

No one really knew why. Maybe she was smitten with Enkrid? Kraiss once told her stories of the Golden Witch and the Black Flower—but she just scoffed.

“I wouldn’t take it even if you gave it to me.”

People have different tastes. Nothing to argue over.

Not just the spring water—alchemy-wise, the city itself is a trove of treasure.

And once the math began, reality came into view.

A gold mine.

A vein so profitable, it didn’t even need evaluation. No one knew the volume, but no miners would be needed.

With the krona you’d spend hiring miners, you just trade for what they need instead.

It was a gold mine via trade. Not actual gold, but value equivalent to it.

“Jackpot.”

Kraiss muttered.

And yes, that was the conclusion.