A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

Ordinarily, the Zaun family would’ve been scattered and picked off one by one—but instead, they formed something resembling a formation.

It began when the family head, Alexandra, and Lynox moved to the front, forming an intangible wall that blocked the enemy’s advance.

Because the lizard riders had to circumvent the trio, they failed to gather enough momentum for a charge and were forced to expose every movement.

Even before part of the riders could initiate their attack, Enkrid had already sent Anahera ahead to strike first, breaking their formation and turning the battle into a chaotic melee.

And yet, Heskal showed no sign of panic.

“It would’ve been better to have Ragna charge instead of Anahera.”

That might have truly thrown them into disarray. But he was too valuable for that.

If the family head was a wall, Ragna was a catapult—he was meant to strike by flying in. Since no one was expecting a catapult, there was no reason not to use him.

More than anything, there was simply no time to run to Ragna and deliver instructions. Enkrid could only trust he would act accordingly.

His gaze shifted. Not because he heard something—his senses spread out thinly, catching faint signs of abnormality.

It was just someone waving a hand behind his back, but in this moment, even a breath from over ten paces away would have been enough to alert him.

Even amidst the storm, his senses sharply captured the world around him.

Enkrid rolled his eyes to follow his intuition—and there, he caught sight of something reaching toward Riley.

It was one of the lizard riders—no, several of them—stretching their hands out. He spotted a monster with a pointed snout and black scales tinged with red.

A unique specimen.

A monster destined to receive a name if it survived long enough.

Hidden within the seemingly minor swarm of Scalers was an army of monsters with supernatural abilities that made the others look like adorable children.

At the same time, Anahera also reacted to their attack and shouted:

“Someone’s got me!”

She wasn’t actually being restrained—no one had grabbed her arms or legs. But Enkrid understood the meaning behind her short outburst.

Telekinesis.

Enkrid stabbed his sword into the ground and expanded his perception further. A few monsters moving abnormally pinged against his senses.

He sharpened the intake of information—seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, feeling.

All of it reassembled in his mind, aligning precisely as he intended.

Like black dots on a white canvas, the monsters with supernatural abilities became distinct within his awareness.

Even as he opened his senses to detect such enemies, his hands didn’t rest.

From the dagger sheath on his chest, he drew two horn-blade daggers, gripping one in each hand.

Jaxon had once said these were the most detested weapons on the continent.

”It doesn’t silence sound—it amplifies it? This is the worst.”

Indeed, they didn’t suit Jaxon’s techniques or aesthetics in the slightest.

The thought was fleeting. His body moved without pause. He locked eyes on a few targets detected by his heightened senses. Every movement around him—especially from the Scalers reaching out—appeared in slow motion.

A knight’s cognitive speed far surpasses that of normal humans. It felt like slipping into the gaps of time, watching from the shadows.

That’s probably why intrusive thoughts always crept in.

“One-point focus.”

When time slows down, it’s as if one’s body is buried in mud—but Will circulates through him, lending strength.

With that, he could move freely even within the mire.

What did he need to do now? Aim and throw.

He focused. Blended what he’d learned from Jaxon’s technique with what he observed from Riley. Both arms swung back. He condensed his strength to the point of control, infused Will into his limbs, and lashed forward like twin whips. The horn-blade daggers tore through the air.

Boom! Boom! Bwooo!

The air split. The daggers pierced through the heads of two Scalers reaching out telekinetically. Each strike was followed by a dull, trumpet-like blast.

Even in the roaring storm, the impact sounds rang clearly.

The daggers didn’t stick—they passed clean through. Meaning, each left a hole larger than a fist in the monsters’ skulls.

Even a troll wouldn’t survive with a hole in the head.

The creature that had been reaching through the air collapsed, its body crumpling into the muddy ground.

Enkrid yanked his sword from the earth.

“Leave the unique specimens alone.”

It seemed he couldn’t just stand by and watch anymore.

There was more than one monster with supernatural powers. Which meant...

He’d have to dive headfirst into this fun little battlefield himself.

And those telekinetic monsters? They were only the first of many surprises.

Kwarururung!

Thunder cracked overhead, and an ominous presence descended from the sky. Enkrid looked up.

Rain clouds swirled above, and from beneath the black mass, droplets gathered and coalesced into a large shape.

A massive serpent seemed to materialize above—the form wasn’t a dragon, but something snakelike, long-bodied and menacing, hovering above the battlefield in allegiance with the monsters.

The sinister sensation that struck the back of his neck told him it was definitely sorcery.

“I wondered when they’d show it.”

Enkrid muttered.

The effect of the spell was immediate. As soon as the serpent appeared, the monsters became more aggressive.

Shaaaaaa!

The screeching sound from the Scalers rang sharper than ever, and his senses blared warnings.

“Hold your ground.”

He passed by Riley and spoke.

“You don’t need to say it—I’m already doing it!”

As he passed, Enkrid smoothly swung his sword. Three Iron carved an upward arc, slicing the neck of a lizard approaching from below.

Spwick, dududuk!

It was like a bladed whip had wrapped around the neck and ripped it off.

The blade circled the creature’s throat and cleaved through it completely.

It had been hiding its presence with remarkable skill, but the sound of raindrops hitting the ground and the distortion of the rainfall had betrayed it.

Heskal.

Enkrid felt like he understood what the man was aiming for.

If Kraiss or Abnaier were to observe this battlefield, they would probably say:

”So he plans to end this in one decisive strike.”

And that, before that final strike, he planned to drain the enemy’s strength.

Physically, and metaphorically.

Send monsters to exhaust the knight-level fighters, and then—if needed—use the remaining Zaun warriors to slaughter their families, shaking their will.

Knights are asymmetric assets. Killing one is worth thousands of monsters.

“Impressive.”

As a tactician, Heskal was exceptional.

Enkrid had no choice but to play along to some degree.

He’d tried to fight while conserving energy, but now he couldn’t ignore it. He had merely prevented them from killing Riley and the others to crush morale.

If they broke through here, the road to Zaun would be wide open. They wouldn’t be able to protect the rear.

His sharpened senses screamed a warning, and Enkrid snapped his head toward the horizon.

“Duck!”

Wasn’t this going too far?

The thought flashed through his mind.

The serpent summoned by sorcery boosted the monsters’ strength and physical abilities.

And now, yet another unique specimen had joined the fray.

A supernatural monster—far larger than the others—raised its head behind the ranks.

Shaaaak.

Hundreds of snakes writhed on its head—the symbol of its identity.

This creature ruled the battlefield with its mere gaze. Its name:

Medusa.

It was five times larger than a Scaler. Bigger than even a giant.

The curse of petrification it unleashed wasn’t absolute, but anyone possessing Will could resist it to some extent.

Still, that very necessity—to withstand it—was a problem.

It meant draining one’s Will in a fight where every ounce mattered.

Enkrid had to fight against monsters with supernatural abilities while enduring a curse that mixed stone dust into the blood.

In a regular battle, his side held the advantage.

With supernatural monsters: even.

Add the serpent sorcery: disadvantage.

Now that Medusa had appeared: confirmed defeat.

And Heskal had even thought this far ahead.

“He used Medusa as a tactical weapon.”

Rather than send her charging, he used her to enforce domination across the entire battlefield.

Now it was clear where the power of the sorcery stemmed from.

Medusa was both a strategic tool and the ritual’s conduit—its icon.

The enemy’s forces were unquestionably superior. Add a sorcerer and a legendary alchemist...

If that ghost Drmul really managed to become a god, like he dreamed, he’d probably be called Drmul the Plague.

Enkrid judged that it was better to fight without looking at all. Even if Will overflowed inside him, a portion would still be consumed if he looked.

And he knew the Zaun swordsmen were capable of fighting without sight. They’d trained blindfolded duels since age ten. Zaun’s sword style even included such sensory training.

“Fight with your heads down! You don’t need to see!”

Enkrid shouted again—though ironically, he kept his head held high.

He had one last thing to confirm with his eyes.

Medusa’s curse activated upon the act of seeing.

Overhead, he heard the flapping of wings.

Heskal had withheld the flying creatures until now—releasing them in tandem with Medusa.

“He’s aiming for synergy between tactical weapons and airborne troops.”

Or perhaps those winged beasts needed a field-wide enchantment to fly through the storm.

Even so, Enkrid stared ahead, defying Medusa’s curse.

He trusted the ever-flowing Will inside him—and the Will of refusal he’d forged.

It worked. The curse had no effect.

Anyone else would’ve begun turning to stone by now, starting from the blood and spreading through the body.

“Guess I’ll have to call those things airborne units.”

He brushed back his wet hair.

A troubling thought: if they couldn’t draw out one hidden piece and flip the battlefield, they were doomed to lose.

His instincts told him that. So did his calculations.

Well then—so be it.

Lua Gharne-style tactical swordplay couldn’t be completed from the rear.

Intuition pulled from the subconscious to offer answers—including the power he possessed.

Enkrid drew the path in his mind by instinct and gut.

His burning head and focus revealed the road ahead. A recent revelation had contributed to this clarity.

He lowered his head.

“Lynox spreads ripples with restrained Will.”

Enkrid applied what he’d learned from watching him.

Though not a genius, his talent with Will was undeniable.

Not because of innate ability—but because overflowing Will allowed him to train endlessly.

Thus, advanced techniques came more naturally than basic drills.

“Restraint.”

He didn’t look at Medusa. He concealed his Will. Then matched the frequency of his surroundings. That was synchronization.

Ironically, it was here that he grasped the synchronization technique Knight Jamal from Azpen had once shown him.

If Rem were here, he’d probably shout:

“What the hell?! Why are you only pulling this off now?”

Enkrid could practically hear his voice yelling at him.

He blended into the battlefield.

He regulated his breath in thin, steady measures, extended his tongue slightly to taste the rain and air.

A faint sweetness delivered information via his sense of taste—distance, direction, position. Not perfectly—but enough to sense presence.

He figured he might as well close his eyes.

So he did.

Instead of seeing, he opened his ears. Hearing replaced vision.

No need for echolocation—the rain would serve that purpose.

Ssshhhhhhh.

As the sound of rain blurred away, Enkrid’s world shifted to black and white. And then, finally, he saw everything.

The positions, actions, and nature of his enemies.

Following the path drawn in his mind by Lua Gharne-style swordplay, Enkrid moved.

Not even the Zaun warriors near him, including Riley, noticed.

Naturally, the enemy didn’t either.

He remained in his synchronized state, unleashing restrained Will only at the moment of attack.

The first was another Scaler, raising its hand to use telekinesis.

Enkrid drew Penna and stabbed upward through the monster’s ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) chin.

Puk!

The blade pierced the skull, unleashing black blood, brain matter, and shards through its crown.

Before the stab even finished, he yanked the blade out and shook the blood free—resheathed it—and dashed eighteen steps sideways. It looked like walking, but moved at a runner’s speed.

There, he intercepted an Owlbear—one skilled in stealth, about to scatter its poisonous feathers.

Bdudududuk!

Its feathers, meant to pierce through a storm like angry darts, reared up.

Each feather was a toxin-laced dart. Left alone, someone might be fatally struck.

But the Owlbear failed its mission.

Three Iron’s blade cleaved through its reinforced feathers and severed its neck.

Black blood sprayed like a fountain, but the rain diluted and blended it into the air.

To Enkrid’s auditory vision, it looked like two different fluids mixing.

He kept moving, detecting enemies through sound and frequency, unleashing Will only when needed.

Puck!

The next Scaler had an especially tough hide, but Penna jabbed through its eye socket and split its skull.

It didn’t die instantly, but there was no need for a second strike.

Next.

Three main types of supernatural enemies:

Telekinetics, hardened-body monsters, and stealth types.

Enkrid focused on the third—those hiding their presence.

The black-and-white world was a training ground made for him alone.

He felt like the only free being walking a spider’s web.

Aker’s Web—assigning order to all things and cutting with the sword.

He merged what he had trained and learned with Lua Gharne’s techniques.

From that point, it wasn’t even difficult.

It was just something he could do.

And with that alone, Enkrid ensured that not a single person near him—none bearing the name Zaun—would die.