A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

Roman naturally ended up joining the group.

”People live in the Demonic Domain?”

That was Enkrid asking.

It’s a surprising claim, after all. Monsters and Beasts are the kinds that kill people.

And in the Demonic Domain, all sorts of Monsters and Beasts are crawling around, including rare and dangerous variants.

Surviving in a place like this is next to impossible.

Even the Village of Hermits only managed to survive by prioritizing secrecy above all else and using their environment to the fullest—they never would have revealed themselves so easily to passing travelers.

”Yeah, I was surprised too.”

Roman answered nonchalantly.

He mentioned it hadn’t even been ten days since he was attacked by the Parasitic Beast.

Judging by the timeline, that checked out.

According to Audin, if his Will had faltered for even a moment, Roman wouldn’t have been able to wake up—that’s what he’d hinted at.

Of course, Audin had said this loudly enough for everyone present to hear.

It was meant to be half praise, but that’s not how it sounded to Roman anymore.

”Fine, let’s just say I’m the fool here.”

Roman realized there was no convincing this group—not with words or with force—so he gave up.

From the way Rem snickered when he heard it, it was obvious Roman was just setting himself up to be teased.

So Roman was now talking about the strange village he’d seen.

It was an excellent attempt at changing the subject—and a successful one.

As they walked, Enkrid broadened his perspective based on what Roman had said.

The continent is vast.

Of all that land, how much do the intelligent races—humans included—actually occupy?

A scholar who once held the honorary title of Sage once put it like this:

”In truth, perhaps our world is surrounded by powerful beings we know nothing about.”

The main evidence for this claim is the existence of the Demonic Domain.

The Grand Demonic Domain, though it has been invaded in the past, has never actually fallen—and within it live six demons, far beyond human ability to handle.

If you look across the continent, you’ll see there are simply too many monsters.

And where there are many monsters, there are also many Beasts.

How many unique or highly evolved variants have developed among all those monsters?

In fact, in the past—before the Safe Road was established from the Border Guard out to the former Count Molsan’s territory—even within national borders, not only bandits but monsters could be found everywhere.

’Even those bandits only survived by banding together.

Otherwise, they would have been wiped out.’

So the very existence of a village like that is something mysterious.

”After you got caught by the Parasitic Beast, do you remember everything from before?” asked the Half-blood Giant, repeatedly approaching Roman as if to probe his intentions.

Roman nodded, assuring him that he was fine.

While it wasn’t easy to get his bearings, Roman managed to find his way in spite of his groans.

It seemed he had a good sense of direction, at least enough to reach this place without a guide; as he looked out at the jagged, distant red-and-black mountains, he managed to head in the right direction.

Of course, whether it truly was the right way—they’d only find out once they got there.

Seeing Roman like that, Enkrid spoke.

”Want to spar?”

Judging by the way he walked, Roman still hadn’t fully recovered his stamina.

He moved with a subtle off-balance gait, like someone who’d stayed up two nights in a row.

Still, as Rem had said, he was tough.

’He’s holding up well.’

He was probably dizzy, and even breathing must have felt harder than usual.

Audin had healed him with holy power, but Roman had still been attacked by a Parasitic Beast.

If he’d been in perfect condition, that would have been stranger.

’But what you have at your core doesn’t change.’

Even when not at their best, someone at the level of a Junior Knight wouldn’t see a major difference in skill.

That was simply expected at this stage.

After all, it’s not as if you can only fight when you’re at your absolute peak.

Being able to perform even in these conditions is why he earned the title of Junior Knight.

”Right now?”

Roman asked in return.

He didn’t sound unwilling.

Enkrid drew his sword. Cosmic Dusk, Sky, Duskforged.

The blade, sometimes called by those three names, shimmered with a pale blue light.

”An Engraved Weapon.”

Roman murmured softly.

The present was so different from what he used to know in the past.

He had vowed and steeled himself to rise first, but now he had been left behind.

He felt a surge of red-hot and pitch-black emotions welling up inside him.

Gripping his sword tightly, Roman pointed the blade of his greatsword forward.

The edge of the blade was a little dull from lack of maintenance, but with a greatsword of this size, even a blunt edge was still a deadly weapon.

”What are you doing, stopping in the middle of the road like this?”

Rem criticized them.

And he was right.

This wasn’t their campsite, so what were they doing suddenly stopping for this in the early hours of dawn? Still, he didn’t say anything more. The others stayed completely silent as well.

It was probably entertaining to watch, and maybe they understood why Enkrid was doing this.

’He really is fascinating.’

Although Rem grumbled out of habit, he felt differently inside.

Enkrid saw both Fel and Ropord as above mere knights.

Of course, both of them had enough talent, had put in the effort, and never lost their drive to improve.

But if everyone who met those conditions could become a knight, then there would be ten times as many knights on the Continent as there are now.

’Even though their numbers have certainly increased compared to the past.’

Their numbers are still extremely small.

That’s why it’s so remarkable.

Ragna, with his hand resting on Sunrise’s Hilt, watched the two impassively.

The swordsmanship of the man called Roman was riddled with bad habits.

If it came down to a real fight, even more problems would show themselves than what could be seen on the surface.

These were things you could tell without having to say them out loud.

’How is he going to fix those habits?’

It wouldn’t be easy.

Luagarne was expectant, while Shinar and Jaxen didn’t seem particularly interested.

Fel, Ropord, and Teresa, on the other hand, focused intently—they believed that watching and learning from anything could be helpful.

Then, Roman’s greatsword began to move.

Drawing a graceful arc, it swept down diagonally.

’It’s fast and forceful, but he’s too focused on preparing for the next move.’

That was Fel’s observation.

’His thinking is too slow.’

This was what Ropord thought.

Enkrid saw it much the same way.

So, what now?

He stepped his left foot forward.

He readied his stance and swung his sword.

His movements mimicked the act of cutting down a monster.

’Controlling his strength.’

He had seen Jaxen remove the Parasitic Beast clinging to Roman’s head.

It would be a lie to say he didn’t get chills watching that sword technique.

’This is precision beyond mere delicacy—it’s the pinnacle of meticulous control.’

After seeing it once, he practiced the motion by himself, just using his hands, and even trained it in his dreams the night before.

”Hey, are you even listening to me?”

The Ferryman called out to him several times, but he was so absorbed in Jaxen’s swordplay that he was completely enthralled.

By now, just by watching and following a few times, he could mimic it.

For Enkrid, the entire process was nothing short of delightful.

Thud!

Vortex—technically, it was a sword strike with restricted rotation.

Using his shoulder as the axis, he delivered a sharp, concise blow.

Roman’s sword was knocked back in a single strike.

”Again. Let’s try it while walking.”

After that, Enkrid repeated the same practice.

Roman had to swing his sword over and over without any separate instruction.

He wished Enkrid would at least say something, but there was nothing.

Each time he swung blindly, Enkrid would deflect it with a single, clean move.

Was he just showing off his skills?

But for showing off, isn’t his attitude and expression a bit too calm?

Even the onlookers seemed to feel the same way.

Roman tried to read his intentions.

There had to be a reason for all this.

Was this not sparring but just some kind of hazing?

Then, Enkrid smiled.

Hey, is that all you’ve got?

Is that it?

At the same time, he heard a voice like that.

It should’ve been an auditory hallucination, yet the voice sounded so vivid that it stabbed right into his heart.

It was around the fiftieth round of sparring.

His shoulder hurt, his elbow hurt—honestly, there wasn’t a single part of his body that didn’t ache.

Ever since getting attacked by the Parasitic Beast, his head had been spinning, too.

But together with Enkrid’s smile, somewhere, over and over, he kept hearing that taunting word: just, just, just.

Crunch.

Roman bit down on his tongue.

Fine, I know you’re great, but don’t underestimate what I’ve been through.

I trained as if carving my bones and staking my life on it.

All to honor Knight Oara and uphold her words.

Resentment welled up inside him Blood welled up as Roman bit his tongue, and the pain jolted his whole body awake.

His eyes were now bloodshot.

Just one strike.

Pivoting on his left foot, he drew on the sword technique he’d practiced relentlessly before.

It was the same technique he’d once used to mimic a true knight’s blow.

This style had also become part of Enkrid’s experience when he formed the Vortex.

For a Junior Knight to swing a sword like a true Knight, every muscle in the body has to tense and release, channeling all his Willpower into that single blow.

It was something Roman himself had once taught.

Take this.

That desperate urge guided his Will.

Roman swung his sword with all his might.

It felt as if he was finally breaking a dam that had been stopping up his chest.

He felt exhilaration and release, and for the first time in a long while, he swung his sword at full strength.

Bang!

Roman’s sword split the air and crashed down, but Enkrid deftly parried it with the Sword of Chance.

Ting, drrrrr. Thud.

Roman’s greatsword fell short of its mark.

The tip of the blade, its strength spent, merely struck the ground.

The sound was far too faint.

It ended with a dull thud.

Then a crack split the middle of the greatsword—until finally the blade broke apart.

”Ugh!”

Roman spat up blood.

It was pitch-black.

”There.”

Before he realized, Audin had come up and placed a hand on his back, with Teresa close behind.

They were in the process of erasing the remaining traces of the Parasitic Beast’s energy from him.

Just tearing out the creature and waking up wasn’t the end of it.

What monsters wield, the energy commonly called Demonic Energy, remained lodged in Roman’s body.

That was what had mixed with the blood he just vomited.

If they’d tried to heal him outright with holy power, he would have ended up a simpleton.

The timing now was perfect. Audin glanced over at Enkrid.

”Was that intentional?”

”Half and half.”

You could say they got lucky.

Roman, lifting his head after bending over to spit out blood, understood better than anyone what that meant.

At the same time.

”You saw it, didn’t you?”

Roman also understood what Enkrid’s question meant.

During his training, Roman had gone down the wrong path.

He had engraved Knight Oara’s Graceful Flowing Swordsmanship into his own body.

It’s a sword style that draws elegant lines rather than settling everything with a single decisive strike.

Because of that, the man who had only imitated the typical downward slash of a knight had solidified his fundamentals.

From Enkrid’s perspective, Roman was finally drawing a proper arc with his blade, but was that really the right path?

Roman was born with a strong body.

And his natural inclination leaned toward putting force in a single decisive blow.

’Will is shaped by one’s inclinations.’

His experiences so far had taught him this.

Ropord had lived a life of putting others first.

He spent a long time observing and reflecting alone.

That time didn’t feel burdensome to him—because it suited his nature.

Fel was the complete opposite.

He would break free of his role as a shepherd and throw himself at whatever he wanted.

Will is influenced by your disposition, your very character.

Go against it, and the path to knighthood will slip further away.

”Thank you.”

Roman spoke, then lost consciousness again.

”We’ve just picked up more baggage.”

Rem said.

”What was that just now?”

Enkrid asked.

Rem grinned and added,

”Wasn’t it exactly when we needed it?”

What Roman had heard earlier—’Is this all you’ve got? Just this much?’—wasn’t just a hallucination.

Rem had used a spell to whisper into his ear.

”That’s quite a skill.”

Enkrid said, secretly impressed.

Whispering into Roman’s ear was one thing, but what amazed him more was Rem’s ability to read Roman’s condition and intervene so precisely.

”No need to flatter me.”

Rem chuckled, and Ragna nodded.

”You really are good at these useless tricks.”

Was that meant as a compliment or a provocation.

”...What on earth did you eat that’s messing with your head?”

After their usual bickering, the two of them sparred once in the Imaginary Realm and then actually crossed swords and axes in reality.

By then, the sun had risen, and the weather was exceptionally clear.

Roman was slung over Teresa’s back.

Later in the afternoon, Roman woke up and said,

”I feel like my mind is clear now.”

”Is that so?”

They didn’t continue the training matches.

Luagarne, her cheeks puffed out, clung tightly to Enkrid’s side.

”I wonder how you got so good at teaching.”

Enkrid chatted with the ever-curious Frog to satisfy her curiosity, while Roman led them toward the village he’d seen before.

How should I put it—his first impression was that it was more striking than any place he’d seen so far.

”So, do we just smash everything and kill everyone?”

Rem asked, catching the mood of the group. Ragna rested his hand on Sunrise.

Enkrid looked at the sculpture that stood openly in the center of the village.

Atop a tall stick sat a circle painted pitch black.

It looked like the Black Sun, or Black Sun—one of the symbols of a cult.

It was as blatant as shouting to the world they were worshipping the Demon God.

”Didn’t you say this was a village?”

Shinar was a fairy.

She was sensitive to the energy given off by monsters.

After all, fairies couldn’t fully use their powers in places where the spirit of the forest was absent.

”It is a village. They just happen to live in a rather unusual way.”

Roman answered.

Once they went inside, it was clear this was not an ordinary place.

People could be seen moving about.

Compared to city dwellers, their clothes were closer to those of the poor, but no one looked like they were being forced to live here.

One of them blinked, then approached.

The biggest difference between Enkrid’s group and this person before them was skin color.

Not black, not white—a subtle, violet hue.

”You made it back alive.”

The man who drew near spoke to Roman, then glanced over the rest of the group.

”And you’ve brought a lot of guests.”

He gestured behind him.

The village welcomed visitors for the first time in a while.

To be honest, it felt a bit awkward.

After all, their hospitality came from a village that worshipped the Demon God.

There was no helping it though.

***