A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

For two days straight, all sorts of monsters and beasts came thrusting their heads forward.

The creatures that gathered around drooled, craving delicious meat and blood.

Though tainted, the people who lived here still bled red.

No one was seriously hurt, but he saw blood flowing from the skinned knee of a child who had tripped in fright.

Even as the child fell, the words ”Demonic Knight” burst from his mouth.

To Enkrid, it sounded like a desperate plea for rescue.

No explanation was needed for how alluring that scent—the smell of that red blood—was to the monsters.

They had come in droves for it.

And if he had to pick the most troublesome of the lot, it would be the magical creature encased entirely in metal.

It’s commonly called a giant iron doll: an Iron Golem.

Their steel bodies easily deflected most blades, making them particularly challenging foes.

Unless you were a knight, you would just tire yourself out putting scratches on it.

That’s what made them so dangerous.

Neither arrows nor swords could pierce them, so the most sensible tactic was to smash them with blunt weapons and go for the core.

And this fact held true even for knights. Even if one claimed to be able to cut through steel, it wasn’t as if you could slice right through a hunk of metal as easily as you would through radishes or straw.

Of course, even so, these were not opponents beyond a knight’s ability.

It would just take time—knights usually had the technique, strength, and strategy to kill such foes.

Still, does that magical creature actually feel hunger?

Or is it driven only by a desire to destroy?

Enkrid’s thoughts were shattered by the sound of the thing’s footsteps.

Thud!

The ground trembled with each step. It must have been several times heavier than the rhinoceros that had charged earlier.

It was as if the earth itself was caving in.

Every time it took a step, a surge of force radiated out.

The pressure made the entire area feel crushed.

”It’s on par with the Minotaur,” Enkrid thought.

He judged it to be about twice as dangerous as an ordinary Iron Golem—truly a monstrous creature.

Without a mouth, it made no howling noises.

Instead, it replaced a roar with the long metal pole it held in its hand.

Boom!

It was a blunt club, its end shaped and mashed like a sledgehammer.

When it slammed that club into the ground, a tremendous crash rang out, sending a tingling vibration up from the earth into his feet.

They say if an Iron Golem survives long enough, it turns part of its own body into a weapon.

Some even claim such weapons are no different than Engraved Weapons.

In bard’s tales, these creatures are depicted as dull guardians of ancient ruins, but facing one in reality—it was anything but an easy opponent Still, someone had to face it, so Ragna, who was the closest, stepped forward to confront it.

As he looked up at the golem with his eyes half-open, he couldn’t help but lift his head even higher.

Its enormous size made it hard to take in all at once from below.

”It’s huge.”

It looked three heads taller than that bear zealot.

Seeing it up close, it felt as if his sense of perspective was completely thrown off.

He vaguely recalled hearing, back when he used to travel around, about the origins of magical dolls—these golems—being born on this land, but he couldn’t remember the details now.

His thoughts were simple and to the point.

Its size didn’t change anything, nor did forgetting the reason for the magical doll’s creation affect the current situation.

Scrape.

The iron rod, shaped like a sledgehammer, scraped against the ground.

Ragna watched it through his half-lidded eyes and thought to himself: Now, I think I can do it.

Do what?

Take his swordplay one step further.

He had been impressed and inspired by what Enkrid had shown.

In response, he had found his own answer.

”Will’s transformation.”

While Yohan had focused on controlling Will, Ragna focused on change.

By projecting Will and solidifying the shaped form of his intent, he molded and refined his resolve again and again, wishing and willing it into form.

He filled his personified Will with the firm resolve to cut down whatever stood in his way.

’The shape it takes is that of a blade.’

Over the heat-radiating Sunrise, a faint crimson blade shimmered, layered atop it.

’I can’t quite manage to envelop the entire sword.’

Ragna realized that his Will was faltering mid-way and decided to fix the form in place.

And so, only one edge of the blade glimmered with a reddish light.

It looked as if he had forged the edge directly from pure scarlet flame.

When the golem swung its hunk of iron, Ragna slashed his sword upward on a diagonal angle.

It wasn’t some grand technique or overwhelming strength.

His steps were light, his speed measured.

He didn’t strain his muscles; in fact, he swung so lightly that it might have seemed like a mere feint. But the actual result of that swing was anything but trivial.

Swaaaash, whoosh.

Sunrise passed through the massive iron as effortlessly as slicing tofu.

In the sword’s wake, fire flared up immediately.

The rod shaped like a sledgehammer snapped clean in two, and a fiery diagonal mark was left across the iron golem’s torso.

Ragna then straightened his sword and, with a single downward stroke, split the golem’s head and body apart.

Every movement seemed remarkably easy.

Could a knight really take down a golem?

Yes.

Without question.

But not like that.

It’s possible to kill a golem by swinging your sword multiple times, gathering your strength, breaking and smashing it until you find the core—but there’s no way to slice it that cleanly with just two strikes.

Taking down a golem once its core is exposed is easy.

Ragna stabbed his sword into the round orb pulsing inside the split body, beating like a human heart.

With a crunching sound, the core shattered, and a silvery liquid began to trickle out.

The golem toppled to the ground with a heavy thud, breaking apart into chunks of metal, thick liquid oozing through the fragments.

Even in the heat of battle, everyone saw what happened.

Not a single person who witnessed Ragna’s swordplay wasn’t surprised.

Right as the fighting subsided, Rem suddenly spoke up.

”What the hell did you just do?”

Even though the question was directed at him, Ragna didn’t even look over and replied bluntly.

”Just swung my sword.”

There was no point in pressing for more details—he would only give vague answers anyway.

”That’s your explanation?”

Rem grumbled, but Ragna ignored him.

Enkrid had watched the same technique.

As expected, I guess.

These prodigies really are unbelievable.

He made a blade out of Will?

This crazy bastard.

It’s hard enough just to grasp the structure at a glance.

How did he do it?

He wrapped his Will, shaped and tangible, around the blade, and when he swung it, the sword could cut through anything it touched.

”Fire Blade?”

Teresa muttered, the thought surfacing because the Holy Scripture described the God of War brandishing a blade of fire that could cleave anything.

”No, Sister. That’s not it,”

Audin denied.

That’s not divine power; it lies in the realm of skill.

This is more than just meticulously wielding Will—it’s actually manifesting it in a new form altogether.

Audin knew he was capable of using holy power to shield himself.

Seeing this, his mind naturally drifted as he recalled similar techniques.

If I could shape the Holy Radiance Armor into a blade, could I do something like that?

It would be tough, but it was possible.

Not just a blade—maybe even other forms are possible.

Lord Father, is this a gift You’ve bestowed upon me?

Are You showing me this through that slothful man?

Just watching this, he felt as if his own connection to divine power was evolving.

Now that he had seen it, he’d be able to do it too.

Audin’s talent was also among the greatest of any Apostle of the God of War in history.

Rem’s lips parted a few times, then closed again.

Enkrid understood—Rem was dying to curse but couldn’t find the words.

”Do you think you lost?”

”Shut it. I can pull that off too, you know.”

He was only acting this way because he’d been riled up after watching Ragna’s swordplay.

Enkrid knew it.

Ragna was well aware of what he’d accomplished.

This was a new path, a new frontier, a new method that no one else had ever reached before.

For the first time in a while, a sense of omnipotence and superiority surged through him.

So, he lifted his chin a bit and looked at everyone gathered before him.

These were the ones who had slain monsters and beasts—they called themselves the Madmen Knights.

And at the center stood their captain.

Which meant there was only one thing left for him to say right now.

”So, I guess that makes me the vice-captain.”

At those words, everyone shot back immediately, not missing a beat.

”Don’t talk nonsense.”

”That position requires experience, you know.”

”Did you hurt your head pushing yourself too hard, lazy brother?”

”If you’re going to act just like that barbarian, maybe you two should just play together, don’t you think?”

That was Rem, then Shinar, Audin, and finally Jaxen—in that order.

It almost sounded like they’d spoken in unison.

But Jaxen’s final comment cut like a harsh blade.

It brought to mind that time when Rem had used his Residual Shot technique to blast through Audin’s room and one-up Enkrid.

Jaxen’s words implied that Rem, when he’d gained the upper hand and started sermonizing, was acting just like Ragna was now.

”Want to try taking it? The Fire Blade?”

Ragna roughly named the move after catching a phrase Teresa had muttered.

Naturally, he said it to Jaxen.

”What’s the point if you can’t even land a hit?”

Jaxen shot back, and a fierce tension crackled between them.

It was like watching two wild beasts circling each other.

Neither of them was actually baring their fangs, but just looking on was intimidating enough.

”It’s fine. They won’t fight to the death.”

Ropord reassured the residents of the Demonic Domain who were beginning to crowd around, curious.

Fel’s eyes widened. ”What are they doing this time?”

Muttering to himself, he repeated over and over that talent wasn’t necessary.

He would reach it through effort.

Training was the only answer.

Fel once again renewed his resolve in that way.

”If you don’t give up, you’ll get there. Isn’t someone right over there proof of that?”

Luagarne spoke after overhearing Fel’s soliloquy.

Enkrid didn’t respond, not even when someone called himself vice-captain, as if he hadn’t heard a word.

Was it because he was so shaken after witnessing a single step taken by a genius?

”This is driving me crazy.”

Enkrid muttered.

His tone made it easy to sense the emotions behind the words, and Enkrid wasn’t a fairy, after all.

At times like this, when he revealed his feelings, it wasn’t like throwing a stone into a lake, but hurling a boulder—the ripple effect was massive, spreading wide and deep.

It filled the air, as if the earthy scent of the forest, called the fragrance of the spirit, spread throughout the woods—so thick you could almost taste it.

If you were to name his emotion now, it would probably be ecstasy, or maybe delight.

The corners of his mouth curled up in a smile.

The moment she saw that smile, Shinar spoke up.

”Should we have just three children?”

At some point, Shinar’s jokes had started crossing every line.

Even so, it seemed Enkrid didn’t hear a thing.

”Yeah, I’ve fallen for him all over again.”

Luagarne felt the same way.

If you didn’t fall for that after witnessing it, what would you ever fall for?

And it wasn’t about romance between a man and a woman.

The charm radiating from that person was simply exceptional.

Meanwhile, the possessed villagers watched all of this in mounting terror.

After slaughtering countless monsters, these people stood around talking to each other, and at the center of it all was someone smiling.

A fairy talked about having children, and the Frog casually said she’d fallen for someone again—what did any of this mean?

Even the demons like Beelrog, who supposedly fought from morning till night, wouldn’t enjoy battle to this degree.

They served the Demon God, yes, but at their core, these people were still human.

What’s more, like a Frog—who had lived shut off from the world, like a frog in a well—these were people secluded from everything, confined by their circumstances.

One extraordinary event after another unfolded, far beyond anything they could comprehend.

Of course they were terrified.

And so, everyone dropped to their knees and pressed their foreheads to the ground in front of Enkrid.

It took another two days just to sort everything out.

Even after all the monster and beast corpses were cleared away, the stench still lingered, but at least no more monsters or beasts came charging at them.

And that was understandable.

There had been not just Iron Golems and Harpies, but several unusual beast types as well.

There was a Gremlin faster than an arrow, for instance, and an Armored Bear—a bear-type monster whose fur was as hard as metal.

Jaxen brought down the Gremlin, and Teresa killed the Armored Bear by smashing its skull with her shield.

The residents who saw all this backed away in fear.

Many of them were visibly trembling.

Enkrid didn’t think much of their reaction.

Would anything really change just because he suddenly decided to act kindly here?

Probably not.

More importantly—

”So, what now? I bet he hasn’t thought that far. He always does things on a whim like this.”

It seemed Roman had just asked Rem what they should do next.

Rem was the only one Roman even somewhat knew.

”I do have a plan,”

Enkrid responded, having overheard.

Ragna wasn’t interested in the slightest, and Audin asked if The Lord had given a divine message.

Luagarne rolled her big eyes and said,

”What plan?”

***