Home / A Knight Who Eternally Regresses / Chapter 778

Continue on Novkyn

A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

Chapter 778 · Oct 14, 2026

Prev Chapter Novel Info Next Chapter

Chapter List (976)

Page number / 20

751 Chapter 749 2026-10-14
752 Chapter 750 2026-10-14
753 Chapter 751 2026-10-14
754 Chapter 752 2026-10-14
755 Chapter 753 2026-10-14
756 Chapter 754 2026-10-14
757 Chapter 755 – Minotaurus 2026-10-14
758 Chapter 756 - A Madman of a Different Caliber 2026-10-14
759 Chapter 757 2026-10-14
760 Chapter 758 2026-10-14
761 Chapter 759 2026-10-14
762 Chapter 760 2026-10-14
763 Chapter 761 2026-10-14
764 Chapter 762 2026-10-14
765 Chapter 763 2026-10-14
766 Chapter 764 2026-10-14
767 Chapter 765 2026-10-14
768 Chapter 766 2026-10-14
769 Chapter 767 2026-10-14
770 Chapter 768 2026-10-14
771 Chapter 769 2026-10-14
772 Chapter 770 2026-10-14
773 Chapter 771 2026-10-14
774 Chapter 772 2026-10-14
775 Chapter 773 2026-10-14
776 Chapter 774 2026-10-14
777 Chapter 775 2026-10-14
778 Chapter 776 2026-10-14
779 Chapter 777 2026-10-14
780 Chapter 778 2026-10-14
781 Chapter 779 2026-10-14
782 Chapter 780 2026-10-14
783 Chapter 781 2026-10-14
784 Chapter 782 2026-10-14
785 Chapter 783 2026-10-14
786 Chapter 784 2026-10-14
787 Chapter 785 2026-10-14
788 Chapter 786 2026-10-14
789 Chapter 787 2026-10-14
790 Chapter 788 2026-10-14
791 Chapter 789 2026-10-14
792 Chapter 790 2026-10-14
793 Chapter 791 2026-10-14
794 Chapter 792 2026-10-14
795 Chapter 793 2026-10-14
796 Chapter 794 2026-10-14
797 Chapter 795 2026-10-14
798 Chapter 796 2026-10-14
799 Chapter 797 2026-10-14
800 Chapter 798 2026-10-14

A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

”People are destined to die anyway.”

”Phew, that was good.”

”Roman, take care of the city.”

”Enkrid, thank you.”

”Ah, that was fun.”

These were the words Oara spoke just before her death—phrases that went beyond mere memory and became indelibly etched, impossible to forget.

No matter how many times he relived today, certain memories never faded from his mind.

Wasn’t there a saying that those who repeat the same day are denied the blessing of forgetting?

At some point, the Ferryman had said as much.

If you wished to forget the most painful moments, you only had to linger in today.

Crackle, crackle.

Smoke from the burning campfire drifted up to the cave’s ceiling.

There, it seeped into the stone and vanished.

The acrid smell tickled his nose.

Oara, who had once beheaded the fragment of Beelrog.

Oara, who in his dreams had been taken captive by Beelrog.

Oara, who used her oath as a shield and laughter as a sword.

Knight Oara, who in the end defended the city, etched her name into it, and departed—now sat before Enkrid, beckoning him over.

”Hey, come over here. Let’s have a chat.”

Enkrid walked over, drawn by her familiar tone.

As he moved, his eyes quickly scanned behind Oara before meeting hers once again.

Would she suddenly pull her sword and attack?

Would her eyes turn red and challenge him to a fight?

He had a feeling this wasn’t going to happen.

Oara sat on a small rock, and there was another similar stone next to the campfire.

Enkrid took a seat on it.

Then Oara spoke.

”How have you been?”

”Very well.”

”You look it. You’re a knight now, right?”

”Yes.”

”Guess that means I should start calling you Sir Enkrid.”

Oara smiled warmly as she said this.

She didn’t look the least bit surprised to see him.

The red glow of the campfire lit up one pale side of Oara’s face.

All Enkrid could see was her familiar, unchanging smile.

When Enkrid didn’t answer, she spoke up again.

”How’s Roman doing?”

”That fool nearly got himself eaten by a Parasitic Beast, charging off on his own to ’improve his skills.’”

”Roman did that?”

Oara burst out laughing and then said,

”Tell me more.”

The two of them chatted away.

It wasn’t hot or cold, and though they were inside a cave, it was neither damp nor dry.

It was cozy, quiet, and peaceful.

It felt like those moments in the dead of winter when you come home after struggling through a blizzard, wash up, and sit down to talk over a steaming hot chocolate drink.

”Idiots.”

From time to time, Oara laughed or frowned in disapproval.

She acted like someone truly alive.

But she wasn’t.

On the night they killed the Beelrog’s fragment, in his dream, she had been captured by the Beelrog.

”Soul Collector.”

That was another name for the Beelrog.

Before he could ask what happened, Oara gave a gentle smile and said,

”That bastard was a tough one to beat.”

What stood before him now was only a part of Oara.

Demonic Sword Tutor, this was something he had also experienced with Aker, the weapon left behind by the knight.

The only difference was that Oara, unlike Aker, ended up trapped here because she was killed by the Beelrog.

”Well, I’d appreciate it if you could set me free. I tried to do it myself, but I failed.”

The cozy, quiet, and peaceful air instantly vanished.

Oara’s smiling face stayed the same, but the mood had shifted.

”They’re here.”

Oara spoke and, with a small groan, got to her feet.

There was no real reason for a full-fledged knight to make a sound getting up; she was simply signaling Enkrid that she was standing.

”Be careful.”

She spoke from the heart.

This place was like a vast clearing.

Unlike the tunnels they’d passed, the ceiling here was high and the walls stretched far into the distance.

By Enkrid’s estimate, it could easily accommodate hundreds of people.

The ground was level, and there weren’t any notable structures.

The only unusual feature was that, the higher up the walls went, the closer they drew together.

From a narrow opening in the ceiling, moonlight gradually streamed down.

Tonight’s moon was red.

It was a Red Moon Both moons turned completely red, casting their light over Oara’s body.

She stepped beyond the reach of the campfire’s glow, and as she did, the flames from the fire seemed to trail after her, soon winding their way along her left arm.

Whoosh.

The stream of fire wrapped around her hand three times before the rest hung down.

Laid on the ground, the flame-formed whip coiled in a tight spiral, like a fiery serpent ready to constrict and burn anything it touched.

The moment Enkrid saw Oara earlier, he had noticed her shadow.

In that shadow, two horns jutted from her head, and behind her, wings were folded close, large enough that if spread, they would easily envelop her entire body.

The Demon slowly shed the shell of the soul it had collected, revealing itself.

It had deliberately chosen to appear as Oara and waited.

At a glance, the shadow of the Beelrog now looked just like Oara’s.

So, is the shadow Oara now?

Or are Beelrog and Oara mixed together?

No, it’s just an illusion.

All intentional—a twisted sense of humor.

”Nice to meet you,” it said.

Enkrid also stood up and greeted it.

Oara’s body grew larger and was gradually suffused with pitch blackness, muscles swelling and her frame expanding.

The form he had glimpsed in the shadow was now manifesting in reality.

Creak

The wandering monster, who had just sprouted two horns stretched out its neck as if feeling refreshed and let out a long breath—huu.

Following that breath, a short burst of flame flared up with a whoosh.

”So you can breathe fire too,”

Enkrid remarked, watching quietly.

Then, the owner of the fragments looked down from above and spoke.

—You made such a racket calling me, so here I am.

To be precise, it didn’t use its vocal cords—it conveyed its meaning with its will.

A method of communication that didn’t require language.

Nothing surprising.

The Ferryman did the same.

”Well, when I call, you show up,”

Enkrid replied without a hint of hesitation.

The creature’s entire skin was a dusky black, and in its pupils, instead of irises, red flames burned fiercely.

The swirling tail of fire spinning around was its eye.

—I am the Master of the Labyrinth, Beelrog. Mortal, did you summon me in your quest for immortality?

”No.”

—I thought as much.

Enkrid laughed.

After all, he’d just run into someone incredibly hard to find.

The monster, known by the epithet Demon of Strife, suddenly laughed as well.

It was a scene where a human and a monster faced each other and laughed.

If there had been an artist present, they wouldn’t have been able to resist painting those two right then and there.

That’s how striking the confrontation was.

Beelrog’s smile caught Enkrid’s eye.

The corners of its mouth twisted upwards, revealing white fangs.

Why are its teeth so white?

As Enkrid stared, Beelrog’s mouth opened again.

—This will be fun.

Sensing the anticipation, joy, and thrill contained in that line, Enkrid felt a strange sense of loss and spoke up, following his feelings.

”That’s my line, you bastard.”

Beelrog was a great monster, so strong it was called the Demon of Strife.

It had even demonstrated the power to scatter the group throughout this place.

Enkrid didn’t know exactly what had just happened, nor did he fully grasp the current situation, but he had a pretty good guess.

It was the power of a Demon.

Demons were not simple beings.

Their powers rendered them entities that others dared not even covet.

Beelrog’s power was to turn its domain into a labyrinth.

So why did Enkrid use such casual language with an opponent like this?

There was hardly a reason at all.

He would do whatever it took to win.

Enkrid fought in his own way.

Demons must have emotions too, so if he could shake them, he would; his intent was to deliberately undermine Beelrog’s dignity.

A regular knight wouldn’t even dare to attempt such a thing, wouldn’t even consider it.

The funny thing was, Beelrog was doing more or less the same thing, trying something similar to Enkrid.

—Out of everyone who came here, you’re the only one left alive. The rest must have been in bad shape.

Without missing a beat, Enkrid replied,

”From what I encountered before arriving here, no one would die from the likes of what you can bring out.”

He had made his way past three knights trapped in the labyrinth.

They were excellent training partners.

—You think that’s all there is to it?

There was a threatening energy in Beelrog’s voice.

Let your guard down for even a moment, and it felt as though your lungs and heart would shrink in terror.

This must be the source of true intimidation.

And the meaning behind his words was clearly meant to shake Enkrid’s resolve.

The Unknown is fear itself—a source of terror.

Beelrog was trying to sow unease in Enkrid’s heart.

But the madman doomed to repeat today used that tactic against him in return.

”Oh.”

He pretended to be caught off guard, feigning an opening.

Beelrog recognized that fact instantly.

What lies behind the moniker ’Demon of Strife’?

It was more than simply enjoying battle—the title was earned because he poured everything into every fight.

—…You bastard.

Even Beelrog’s speech grew coarse, sounding more like a mercenary at a tavern than the renown he was known for.

That in itself surprised him a little.

A human who didn’t cower before such overwhelming presence and still had the nerve to speak his mind—such a person was rare indeed, even if Beelrog looked back on his long life.

”Didn’t fall for it.”

Enkrid murmured as if talking to himself. ’Feigned Opening,’ an Enkrid-style Orthodox Swordsmanship technique, had failed.

Beelrog stopped speaking, and Enkrid moved smoothly, shifting his footing as he grounded himself.

He pressed his weight down, ready to spring forward—the posture for a downward slash.

It was an attack developed from Oara’s continuous sword technique, a fitting first gift for Beelrog’s arrogant face.

As Enkrid advanced, folding space itself with his blade, Beelrog blocked the strike with his bare arm.

Clang!

A shockwave rippled out from the two of them at the center. Whoosh.

Beelrog’s flaming whip flared up furiously, almost as if it had a mind of its own.

—Say hello. This is Salamandra.

Beelrog raised his forearm to his forehead as he spoke.

His eyes met Enkrid’s—ones blue, ones red.

His fiery eyeball blazed fiercely.

At the same time, his whip, no different from a living fire serpent, lashed out without warning.

The coiling flames tried to seize Enkrid’s ankle, but he instinctively stepped back and pulled his sword against Beelrog’s forearm with all his strength.

Dawnforged responded to its master’s call, further sharpening its edge.

This was an Engraved Weapon infused with Will.

Its cutting power, if only for an instant, surpassed even Penna, the treasure of the fairies.

Thud-thud-thud.

Yet, even so, the blade failed to achieve its purpose.

Not even a scratch, let alone a mark, was left on Beelrog’s ever-smiling forearm.

’What in the world are his arms made of?’

Meanwhile, the whip of flame—seemingly self-aware—moved on its own, at will.

’His arm muscles didn’t even move.’

In fact, there weren’t any signs of movement in any of his muscles—not just his arms, but his entire body.

The whip had attacked entirely on its own, without any warning or indication of intent.

That fiery whip slithered across the ground with a sizzling sound, then raised its head.

Looking at it, one could easily believe it was a living serpent-beast moving independently.

—This one is Surtr.

Beelrog then introduced the sword in his right hand, which blazed with a fiery light.

Unusually, the flames burned black rather than the typical color.

The blade itself was at least three times larger than Ragna’s Sunrise.

Beelrog’s body was only slightly bigger than Audin’s, so for him to wield this weapon, it was a truly massive greatsword—both long and thick.

When he spread out his two wings, his figure looked three or even four times larger.

At that moment, Beelrog radiated an aura that seemed to crush and overwhelm every living creature present.

It was the embodiment of pure intimidation.

It felt as if my entire body was bound tightly in red-hot, burning chains, and as if a boulder larger than a house was about to crash down on my head.

I’m going to lose.

I will lose.

There’s no way to win.

Surpassing a being like that is impossible.

Such things are not granted to humans.

Then would it be possible if I were a giant?

Would it be different if I were a dragonkin?

As these thoughts flickered through my mind, Will moved on its own within me and rejected them.

It tore apart and cast away the intimidation Beelrog exuded.

The chains snapped, and the boulder that had weighed down my Imaginary Realm vanished.

Enkrid managed to overcome the oppressive force emitted by his opponent, but in doing so, realized a large rift had opened within him.

And Beelrog did not follow up with an attack through that opening.

—You adapt quickly. Good.

He actually seemed pleased.

He never intended to strike in the first place.

Is this some kind of trial?

Was he just testing my abilities?

Or just showing off his composure?

It didn’t really matter.

Enkrid wasn’t shaken.

No matter what the opponent did, he never forgot what he himself needed to do.

Cut.

He poured his heart and Will into it.

In that moment, he briefly understood the trick Ragna had pulled earlier.

The Transformation of Will.

It’s about imbuing Will’s original properties with something else.

How?

By infusing my own intent into it.

I had watched what Ragna did and practiced countless times, squeezing in every spare moment to ponder, struggle, and, along the way, gained the experience from fighting three knights to get here.

All of it came together and lingered on the blade.

The dawn-blue sheen of Dawnforged grew thinner and sharper along the edge.

Just as swinging with all my heart would naturally imbue it with powerful cutting force, if I pushed that to its limit, it would become a blade manifested from Will itself.

It felt both like an extension of what I’d learned before, and as if I was discovering something completely new.

Regardless of how I got here, what mattered was that now Enkrid’s blade was lined with a sky-blue edge.

Thunk.

Whether or not that sky-blue light shone on Enkrid’s sword, Beelrog sprang into the air from where he stood.

As he leapt, he suddenly vanished.

He reappeared behind Enkrid.

Enkrid’s blue eyes traced two lines through the air, each line arcing around his body to form a semicircle.

Enkrid spun around and swung his sword.

The blade, sharp enough to slice through steel as if it were tofu, met with Surtr Sword and was blocked.

Thunk.

There was hardly any noise.

Instead, the black flames simply flared up, a bit larger than before.

Whoosh.

It was as if Beelrog was saying that something on the level of the Dawnforged was nothing to worry about, that he could handle this much with ease.

Through the flames, Balrog’s fist came flying.

Enkrid tucked in his knees and elbows, grabbing Balrog’s wrist in an attempt to snap it mid-movement, but Balrog’s punch accelerated, shifting speed and rhythm.

Bang!

He took the hit squarely.

Even though he had sequentially used the Sword of Chance, calculations, optimized thinking, and the Wave-breaker Sword, he was still overwhelmed.

Enkrid’s body was lifted off the ground and sent flying, slamming into the cave wall.

Beelrog immediately opened the fist he’d punched with, grabbed his whip’s handle, and swung it at the wall.

The speed of the movement was nothing like when the whip moved on its own.

The head of the Fire Serpent swelled, transforming into a large bludgeon, and struck the wall faster than the speed of sound.

Bang—! Crash!

He struck the wall with the whip, but it exploded as if a boulder had smashed into it.

Amidst the chaos, Enkrid could be seen rolling out of the way.

Blood streamed from his lips as he rolled, as if his internal organs had been injured.

’It’s not working.’

No matter how sharp a sword may be, it will be blocked by a blade of the same kind.

That’s exactly what Beelrog had done.

A wandering-type demon, a living legend—he was capable of such things.

”That’s all you’ve got?”

Beelrog spoke.

His sword, Surtr, was much like Enkrid’s, its blade forged of flame.

Visibly, it looked like a sword made of blazing fire

Prev Chapter Novel Info Next Chapter

Also worth opening

Reincarnation Of The Strongest Sword God Lucky Old Cat

Reborn As Super Heiress Mushuang

Supreme Star Card Master Cloud Camellia

Journey To Become A True God Darkforces

Shadow Slave Guiltythree

Chaotic Sword God Xin Xing Xiao Yao

Gravity Mage with Level-Up System Aravind_S

My Vampire System JKSManga

Shadow Slave Guiltythree

Martial God Asura Kindhearted Bee

Versatile Mage Chaos

Inheriting A Divine Cultivation Clan At The Start, All My Juniors Are Empresses Monkey Bread

Supreme Emptiness Heavenly Overlord

Affinity: Chaos Springs_Halo

Ancient Godly Monarch Jing Wu Hen