A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

While Enkrid was tuning his senses, Kraiss carried out what his commander had promised.

He went to inspect the location where the Fairy City would settle. It was south of the Border Guard, even farther south from the barren wastelands, at the point where water from the river reached. The final destination was nestled near a small mountain range—a place ideal for a forest to take root.

In fact, it was a spot where even the ”Safe Road” couldn’t guarantee much safety.

Nearby stood a rocky hill shaped like a tower—formerly a harpy’s nest—and at the base of the mountains lay a small forest where monsters and beasts frequently took shelter.

A barrier to stop monsters and beasts coming up from the south.

That made it the perfect location. If the fairies were capable of purging such threats themselves, it wouldn’t be a bad deal for them either.

With that in mind, Kraiss personally headed for the southern outpost.

Zero the fairy accompanied him as a guide, while the escort was handled by his lover, Nurat.

Armed with a sword and thicker arms than before, she walked right beside Kraiss. She, too, had long adopted Audin’s physical training method.

“A walking tree?” Nurat asked.

“Technically speaking, it’s a migration—an ancestral ritual of the Woodguard tribe,” answered Zero, who walked on Kraiss’s other side.

Most fairies gave off a cold, distant feeling, but not Zero. He was expressive and emotionally open.

Not all fairies were the same, clearly. While some variations could be chalked up to personality, seeing how Enkrid had once beaten the emotions into Zero made things clearer.

And not just with a sword—Enkrid had torn him up with words, too.

“So this is real? This is your best effort? Hm. More threatening than a dragonfly. A fine slash—if you’re aiming to kill a mosquito.”

Even the most patient fairy would learn how to express rage after that.

And once rage was unlocked, other emotions would follow.

By the time the three reached the southern outpost, the stationed soldier approached and saluted.

There had once been those who looked down on Kraiss for being a non-combatant in the Mad Knight Squad—but those days were gone.

Soldiers now knew that disrespect wouldn’t end with a mere slap on the wrist. Besides, Kraiss often admitted himself that he wasn’t a fighter.

If the man himself said so, who were they to argue?

Not that it stopped every fool—but Kraiss had brains.

After a few weeks of being escorted by Rem’s assault unit, even pointless remarks had vanished.

Who would dare speak ill when their escort was a lunatic ready to draw an axe at the faintest whisper?

“What? You want to disappear after joining our unit?”

Rumors swirled that soldiers who joined Rem’s assault group sometimes went missing.

But it wasn’t really a rumor—deaths during training weren’t unheard of.

The harder the training, the higher the risk. Obvious truth.

Still, Rem had never once let any of her subordinates die.

After that, no one dared to insult Kraiss openly. And those who muttered behind his back—well, he didn’t care.

He had too many immediate matters to deal with, like preparing for the arrival of the fairies.

As they walked, Zero told him all about fairy society. His personal goal, he shared, was to exterminate every demon on the continent.

A fairy who talked quite freely. Nurat joined in the conversation occasionally, updating him on the guard’s recent training.

And that’s when Kraiss saw it.

Boom.

“...Monster,” murmured the outpost soldier.

Despite all the warnings about the walking tree, seeing it in person made it hard not to be surprised.

A soldier reached for his bow. Another nocked an arrow.

But... would arrows even matter?

Their eyes said it all—they weren’t sure.

Thud—

A root-foot slammed the earth as the massive tree drew closer. Backlit by sunlight, it loomed large on the horizon.

Up in the branches, round forms hovered. On closer inspection, fairies stood on the limbs, observing the humans.

Zero lifted a palm in greeting.

Kraiss composed himself and gave the order: “Don’t shoot.”

When Enkrid told him, he hadn’t flinched. Now, it was his turn to be surprised.

“It’s real. It’s actually walking. A walking tree,” Kraiss muttered again.

“Yeah... even after hearing about it, I’m still surprised,” Nurat agreed beside him.

Good thing it came in daylight. If it had come at night, it could’ve easily been mistaken for a monster attack.

Its sheer size warped perspective—slow yet fast, because its mass shattered your sense of scale.

No one had seen anything like it.

Taller than any giant—an actual tree that forced you to tilt your head back just to see.

“It’s a guest. Not a monster,” Kraiss repeated.

From behind, a soldier mumbled, “I need to pee.”

“You too? Me three.”

“If that thing steps on us, we’ll be tomato paste.”

“Ugh. Thanks. That image ruined my stomach.”

The three soldiers whispered. Their words might’ve sounded like they were panicking, but they weren’t truly scared.

If they were truly terrified, they wouldn’t be able to speak at all.

It was just tension-relieving banter. Still, that didn’t mean they weren’t nervous.

Kawk, kawk.

Suddenly, a few man-faced dogs burst out from one side. The region was known for occasional monster appearances.

The southern territory was the Mad Knight Squad’s most beast-infested domain.

Outside the Pen-Hanil Mountains, it was the roughest posting.

The monsters, reckless, rushed under the tree. Because of their quadrupedal stance, they couldn’t even see how massive it was.

Eleven of them sprinted forward—until they all simultaneously stumbled and crashed to the ground.

Slender shafts had whistled through the air and embedded into their bodies.

Their first instinct was to bite people. Their second? Leaping.

So how had they all tripped at once?

Fairy handiwork, obviously.

From atop the branches, archers had fired with uncanny precision.

The fairies exchanged signals and shifted positions in unison.

One of the fallen beasts was crushed underfoot. Thud.

Where the root-foot had passed, a smear of black ichor was all that remained.

As the tree giant drew near, some of them loomed even taller than the outpost.

Thoroughly amazed, Kraiss finally spoke the words:

“Welcome to the Border Guard.”

“Thank you for the warm welcome. Though... the air here isn’t exactly pleasant,” said one of the fairies. “Don’t think we fairies are naïve. I’ve worked as a receptionist for an intelligence guild. I started in a city down that river...”

The fairy rambled, but Kraiss had no trouble understanding.

He was unfamiliar with tree giants, sure—but this sort of fast-paced, oddball conversation? He was more than used to it.

“Are you trying to say not to scam you? Don’t worry. Monsters frequent this area. Armed bandits too, sometimes. But that shouldn’t be an issue for you, right? If you settle here, our commander will be grateful. Even if he doesn’t show it, it’s still helpful. We can even spare troops to assist if needed. I recommend the area just west of here, beneath the mountain range—it’s the most suitable spot.”

Fairies might not lie, but they do distort the truth.

But since they idolize our commander, distortion is unlikely.

Still, to be safe, their envoy was clearly someone familiar with human culture.

The first contact between two untrusted parties always begins this way.

But Kraiss had no intention of lying from the start.

To con artists, speak in their language. To those who wield truth as a weapon, approach with truth as well.

From the start, Kraiss wouldn’t allow noise in this “deal.”

Only sincerity.

And that was enough.

The fairy smiled in satisfaction—not that Kraiss noticed the subtle emotion.

“Sounds good, but as Emily taught me, it’s best to verify. Emily was my first lover. She worked the desk at the intel guild.”

Kraiss smoothly brushed past the unnecessary chatter and guided the fairies in.

There was a lot of paperwork and administrative follow-up to handle—but none of it would be a real obstacle.

The tree giants began to migrate in.

Even when a massive boulder seemed to move on its own, the soldiers were stunned but didn’t engage.

Some southern nobles called in reinforcements, thinking a massive monster was attacking—but that was it.

There was no combat.

***

“Again.”

Rem stepped forward, not Enkrid.

The dynamic had shifted.

Every day or two, Rem requested a sparring match.

Enkrid didn’t refuse—but he also never just nodded quietly.

“Hm. You sure about this?”

“Sure about what?”

“I don’t enjoy bullying the weak.”

“Hah. Who are you calling weak, you lunatic?”

Rem acted like she took the bait—but fought cool-headedly. Passionate and fierce, yet never reckless.

That was the kind of genius she was.

After several rounds of adjusting his senses, Enkrid finally grasped his standing.

According to his system, they were at high knight-level. He was mid-level.

But his system was more about training method, not raw combat metrics.

Uske.

His inexhaustible Will gave him overwhelming efficiency in duels. That allowed him to mingle with those in the upper tier.

And the wave-breaking sword, used at full force, helped too.

His split-focus allowed him to balance power and endurance. Long-duration, high-speed combat became his specialty.

Each swing was tight, deadly.

Where Rearvart and Sir Jamal dragged out time, Enkrid pressed forward.

Not only Rem came at him.

“Get out here, Mad Knight Commander! I’ll fix that brain of yours!”

Ragna charged in with a provocation, and Enkrid accepted.

“Yeah. If I lack talent, then I should make up for it with effort.”

He relished the moment—and at the same time, felt that enjoyment begin to shrink.

All the regular soldiers and combatants burned with resolve as they watched the Mad Knight Squad.

Even Rem and the others felt it—but the truth was, they had never actually been surpassed.

But now, they were.

They’d really fallen behind Enkrid.

To not enjoy this moment would be inhuman.

“I’ll definitely win next time!”

“Lord!”

“I’ll kill them all!”

Rem, Audin, Ragna, Jaxon—all suddenly started training like maniacs.

“You planning to kill every knight in the world now?” Jaxon’s lover once asked him.

“There’s someone I have to catch up to.”

“Have to?”

She knew Jaxon well. He didn’t use words like have to lightly.

“Why?”

So she asked.

Jaxon hadn’t really thought about it before, but now he had a clear answer.

“It’s unsightly.”

“Huh?”

“All that smug posing. It’s embarrassing.”

Outwardly, that’s ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) what he said—but internally, he thought something else.

I said I’d be helpful. I can’t become a burden.

So he trained. And it paid off.

Fourteen days after Enkrid returned to the Border Guard—

Audin was waiting for someone who had stepped away, and Enkrid, with no one to meet or talk to, simply trained.

He hadn’t gone to see Aitri yet. He wanted to assess himself first.

He had handed over weapons and items he’d gathered—and Aitri told him to come back later.

Esther was living in leopard form for now. Shinar hadn’t shown up. Only Lord Greyham had made a brief visit.

So outside of training, Enkrid had nothing to do.

Honestly, it was fun—beating his subordinates.

“It’s not enough. Not stimulating. You lot can’t challenge me anymore.”

He’d mutter things like that.

Everyone reacted.

“Ran into a cultist, huh? What, sold your soul to the Demon God or something?” Rem asked as she pulled a leaf from her hair.

The breeze was warm. Winter was ending. The goddess of spring was near.

The moment made her think of Shinar.

“I hear the whining of the weak.”

Enkrid’s taunts had grown refined. His sword drooped lazily as he delivered the line like a poem. Rem’s face darkened.

She’d heard this too often lately.

“You’re dead today, punk. Ptuh.”

She spat on her palm and readied her axe.

The air thickened—like they might really fight to the death.

Rem crouched low, ready to charge.

Enkrid, with insight, anticipated her move and readied Penna for a diagonal strike.

He didn’t think today would be any different.

Unless Rem used her axe at full power and unleashed all her spells, the outcome wouldn’t change.

But then—Rem shrank. Not literally. She had pulled back so fast it looked that way.

Retreat?

She jumped back with uncanny speed, keeping her eyes on him, her feet stomping the ground and leaving echoes behind.

At the same moment—

Voom, voom, BUUUUUIIIIIIING—!

Rem flung a disc into the air above her head.

After a few lazy rotations, it accelerated violently, bound to a leather strap.

A sling.

“No joke.”

WEEEEEENG—!

As the sling spun with a shriek, Rem channeled her Will and declared:

“If you don’t block this, you die.”

WHUNK.

The sling fired.

BOOM! The air ripped.

Between the tearing sound, Enkrid saw it—with insight.

A point. A single point that seemed ready to blow open his skull.

Even with accelerated thinking, it remained a dot—a blur that defied time itself.

It was far more dangerous than catching a dagger mid-flight, like he once had.

He dropped into a backbend. The shot grazed his forehead, snipping strands of hair, which scattered in the shockwave.

Then he had to roll aside.

BANG!

The shot struck where he’d just been, exploding earth into the air.

And it wasn’t over.

WEEEEEENG—!

Rem had already launched two more discs diagonally.

One nearly vertical. The other, almost horizontal.

The two spinning circles hovered, mere inches apart, radiating deadly precision.

“Die, you mad bastard,” Rem cried joyfully.

And Enkrid—

He saw her sincerity in that cry.