A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

Confusion, anxiety, chaos.

Everything was muddled together.

Some of the villagers even experienced hallucinations.

”I will come to you myself.”

It was the call of the Demon God.

Some wept, others fell into despair.

It was that kind of time.

But still, they were human.

That made them susceptible to the mood around them.

It’s said that, through the generations, a truly exceptional person can shift the outlook of an entire group.

Like how a hero at the front lines can inspire fighting spirit, or how an orator’s passionate speech can sway everyone.

Right now, it was the madman’s attitude that did just that.

The atmosphere wasn’t hopeless.

Even though the future looked truly bleak, it was as if such things didn’t concern them.

Why?

Because if you looked into their eyes, you could see how composed the outsiders were.

The villagers couldn’t step forward.

Lost for words, they became mere onlookers.

Among them, a few children began to hum a song.

The lyrics spoke of the end times, of an age that was over—a song passed down orally through generations.

”I need to train. Training is what I need.”

Fel muttered as he swung his sword.

The madman, who for a while had been slumbering—always bellowing about discipline—had now awakened from his stupor.

”Wooooah!”

He shouted out a kiai all by himself.

He definitely didn’t seem normal, but he looked as calm as ever.

Fel’s mindset was simple and clear.

Monsters were the enemy, and these people were to be protected.

That was all it took for him to be satisfied.

With determination gleaming in his eyes, Fel took up the Idol Slayer and began to move in a peculiar dance off to the side.

”You’re certainly making a racket. Was it Roman, right? Come here for a moment.”

Ropord, seeing Enkrid’s sword and the bizarre antics happening now, felt his own confidence waver just a bit.

His specialty was examining his circumstances objectively—scrutinizing his own condition from a detached perspective.

Having sized up his own state, Ropord came to a conclusion.

’What I need right now is the experience of winning.’

One way would be to go out and hunt the nearby monsters, and another would be to spar with Roman, giving both of them a similar experience.

But more than just the experience of victory itself, what Ropord truly longed for was the sense of accomplishment that came from being useful to someone else.

”How do you plan to build up the power behind a single decisive blow?”

Ropord asked, coaxing Roman into action.

Roman blinked, then approached him.

Are we really just going to idly swing our swords around out here?

That’s what his expression seemed to say, full of skepticism, but he too was swept up in the mood.

Ropord simplified his thoughts.

Whatever Enkrid was up to, he’d work out his own answers.

So, Ropord decided to simply focus on what he could do right now.

’Stay in peak condition.’

That goes for both body and mind.

Facing Roman, Ropord narrowed his focus and concentrated.

Having fought Fel countless times, he knew Fel’s strengths and weaknesses.

He also knew the common traits of people who tended to bet everything on a single, decisive strike.

And, over time, he’d picked up all sorts of tricks and techniques from training the squad known as Enkrid’s Royal Guard.

He just had to use all of that.

If you want to finish a fight with one critical blow, you have to understand the process required to make that possible.

Hadn’t Enkrid once said Roman needed to endure a long, grueling process?

’To put it simply, he needs to suffer to the point where it feels like his life’s on the line.’

Ropord was more than capable of providing that kind of experience.

Some villagers had been shocked when Enkrid cut down the idol, but none had fainted from horror.

Among them, the sharper ones quickly accepted the new situation.

Their turnaround was incredibly swift.

In reality, they had little choice.

What else could they do if they didn’t bow their heads here and now?

The Demon God’s enforcer was dead, and though the demon’s reach was distant, this swordsman stood right in front of them.

With just a flick of his hand, he could wipe them all out.

Those who grasped that simple truth awakened their survival instincts, bowed down, and offered their reverence to Enkrid.

”Ooh.”

Of course, they might have their own additional reasons as well. Rem caught sight of this and let out a wry chuckle.

”They’re switching sides like a hungry Velopter snatching a rat for a meal after going three days without eating.”

Wasn’t it said that there were hardly any rats in the Western Region because Velopters went crazy for rat meat?

It was probably also due to monsters like the Copycat, which often appeared in the West.

Cats devoured rats easily—if anything, they never had enough to satisfy their hunger.

”A duel?”

Ragna approached Enkrid, who had just finished fighting.

Watching this, Rem frowned.

What is this lazy fool after now?

”Are you insane?”

This was a level of anger you rarely ever saw.

It was as if someone had insulted his parents or child.

People from the Western Region are particularly sensitive when it comes to insults about their blood relatives.

Rem wasted no time drawing his axe as he declared the reason for his fury.

Enkrid had thought that Ragna must have cursed at Rem as he approached, but that wasn’t it.

”I’m the one who challenged him first.”

…Was that really something worth getting so worked up over?

”Brother, didn’t the Lord say we should not endure injustice? Why do you always insist on taking the lead?” Audin chimed in when he heard this.

”He’s my fiancé. Of course I should go first,” added Shinar.

But Shinar couldn’t use her full power here, could she?

Fairies couldn’t wield their strength properly in a place with so little vital energy.

Since they’d arrived, Shinar had been clinging to Enkrid, joking repeatedly that she felt dizzy and would probably feel better if they spent a night huddled together.

Those jokes stemmed from how much weaker she felt than usual.

”Do you all understand what you’d be getting yourselves into?” Ragna asked, looking at each of them.

Can you infuse Will into your sword?

Can you make a sword that shines with light?

If you can’t even do that, how can you expect to spar?

In other words, what Ragna was saying was that from now on, this would be a higher-level duel—so anyone too weak should step aside.

”Hey, are you insulting the Western Region’s sorcery right now?”

Rem remained furious.

His anger took on a tangible shape—he was channeling his intimidation in his own unique way.

Rem’s shadow ignored the moonlight and grew larger.

Then he began to rise to his feet.

If a fight broke out now, it seemed even that shadow would swing a mighty axe.

”The Lord has said that there is nothing we cannot achieve through sanctity.”

While Audin kept chiming in, Enkrid suddenly sensed a sneak attack coming from behind.

To put what he was feeling into words: someone about five paces away was waving something as light as a willow branch—yet Enkrid’s instincts immediately caught it.

His nerves were razor sharp from the earlier fight, and his body reacted automatically.

Clang!

He turned and raised Duskforged in defense—just as the blade of a dagger stretched out to meet it.

It was a thrust from Jaxen.

The moment the sparks flew, Jaxen leaped back more than three steps and stared intently at Enkrid.

Judging by his skill at stabbing and retreating, he was even quicker on his feet than Rem.

”You little wildcat bastard!”

Rem exploded with rage, but Jaxen ignored him and spoke up.

”I’m done.”

With that previous strike, he had already gauged Enkrid’s heightened alertness.

That was enough for Jaxen.

’It won’t be easy to get behind him now.’

A simple ambush wouldn’t work anymore.

He was certain of it.

’So what now?’

Whoosh.

As he dodged a thrown hand axe, Jaxen organized his thoughts.

’I’ll have to use everything I’ve got too.’

That was the only way he had a chance.

And even then, he’d have to secure the advantage first.

Otherwise, there was no way he could kill him.

Even the legendary Assassin Guild master, — Geor’s Dagger, whose name was renowned across the Continent—had given the same assessment.

The time for assassination had already passed.

”Enough.”

For the first time in a long while, Enkrid stepped in to calm everyone, calling Rem out first.

He simply suggested they match each other’s moves—meaning, a sparring session.

”As expected.”

Rem nodded and drew his axe.

Oddly, it seemed as if a thick black smoke was coiled around the weapon.

Though he had already expended some of his Will finishing off the bull-headed swordsman earlier, the reserves that remained and his body, hardened by Isolation techniques, didn’t show the slightest sign of weakness from something like this.

”Muscles are a beautiful thing, you know.”

That was Audin, seeing right through it.

Teresa quietly took in everything unfolding before her—and the people standing alongside her.

’Is this what they call boldness?’

Or maybe ’recklessness’ would be more accurate.

The moment she saw those who rightfully deserved the name ’Corruptors’, veins bulged on the back of Teresa’s hand.

She instinctively tightened her grip.

She wanted to swing her greatsword then and there, to hack and smash them to pieces.

It was unsettling and disgusting.

A repulsive feeling, as if thousands of ants were crawling beneath her skin.

She felt she had to tear them apart and purify this land.

Teresa heard a call resonate through her whole body.

As she tensed, a hand caught her arm.

It was a large, warm hand—a hand that, if willed, could radiate a pure white light.

”If the Lord commands you to kill, will you kill them all? The Lord’s will is righteous, but we who must carry it out are imperfect.”

Audin was teaching the same lesson now that he always had.

After taking three slow, deep breaths, the Half-blood Giant nodded.

Sending them into the presence of God may provide those people with a place of rest, but surely they have their own wishes, too.

In any case, Teresa had already reached her own conclusion.

To be precise, she had reached it moments ago.

’They cannot be saved.’

There would be no salvation.

She saw no way, so that’s what she believed.

”Incredible, absolutely incredible!”

It was Luagarne, repeatedly exclaiming beside her.

Indeed, those with a different kind of madness saw the world through different eyes.

Their train of thought followed a wholly different path.

’No matter what, I will protect them.’

And, no matter what, I will save them.

’Perhaps ”Savior” suits me better than ”Shield.”’

Just a moment ago, she’d felt that leaving these people to their fate went against the Lord’s teachings, but now she thought differently.

The God of War whom she served granted her peace of mind.

’O Lord.’

Teresa bowed her head in prayer.

In truth, she had no idea how to actually protect this place.

That responsibility fell to the one who had set this whole thing in motion.

Would they try to summon Krais here?

But would that bug-eyed man even come if he called?

Even if it was Enkrid, that bug-eyed guy wouldn’t set foot in the Demonic Domain.

Then what would they do?

These questions briefly passed through her mind, but as before, Teresa decided it wasn’t her concern.

She wasn’t the only one coming to grips with practical realities.

Rem had also recognized and understood the problem, and—despite knowing how difficult it would be to solve—had chosen to ignore it.

Now, after having cut down the symbol, wasn’t the presence of monsters and beasts already creeping up around them?

Thinking about it, this was only natural.

’How tempting must this place have seemed all this time?’

It was like throwing a freshly caught mouse in front of a velopter and telling it not to eat it.

A well-trained velopter might resist—it could hold back and not eat.

But if its master suddenly told it, ”You can eat now”?

’If it doesn’t pounce, it’s not a velopter.’

It was something done by instinct.

Rem thought this as he lowered his axe.

They had been sparring.

If things got any more serious, one of them was bound to get badly hurt.

The faint black smoke that clung to his axe wavered, then rose like mist and vanished.

”What’s that?” Enkrid asked.

It was a skill similar to Will, but also distinctly different.

Unlike concentrating Will and imbuing it into a sword, this followed an entirely different path.

It wasn’t in the realm of martial skill or technique—this was achieved purely through talent in handling rituals.

”Spirit Possession.”

It was a technique no one would dare attempt without an Inherited Weapon.

You channel your ritual energy into the axe and let it visibly manifest.

It’s not something easily done.

There are dozens of hurdles one must cross to reach this level.

Rem stared at Enkrid, quietly.

He had nothing to ask.

The trick to gathering and focusing Will, like before?

He didn’t need it.

Besides, he’d already seen and learned everything else, so there was nothing left for him to ask.

Handling weapon techniques and rituals are completely different things.

Here, to reach the level they call a Knight—or a Hero in the Western Region—you have to master both.

Training the body and honing rituals are separate, but they’re also connected.

What are the chances of excelling at both?

They’re slim.

Far too slim.

That’s why, without talent, you can’t even dream of reaching this level.

At least now I know how to teach it.

Honestly, it was just me copying the system Enkrid built up over time.

”Well, I, uh, learned a lot. Thanks.”

That’s what I said, only because I had to.

Enkrid blinked a couple of times, then replied,

”Where’s Rem? Are you some kind of evil spirit?”

”…Hey, what the hell.”

What’s with this guy?

I thank him and this is his response?

”Is it time for Purification?”

Audin responded too.

It must be a moment when Divine Power is needed.

”Did you get attacked by an evil spirit?”

That was Teresa’s comment.

Jaxen was already gripping his dagger, ready to throw it at any moment.

”Sunrise burns away everything.”

Ragna added, and Rem just laughed at that.

”You son of a—”

But the curse never finished.

”It’s time to work, Rem.”

Enkrid cut him off abruptly, clearly done with the teasing.

The door to the well-protected food warehouse, shielded by fences, opened.

It was about the time when monsters and Beasts would swarm from all directions, and now, they were even visible.

You could hear them, too.

***