A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

It was right before Master Eudokia asked back whether I had fooled him.

”You will die.”

”You will definitely die.”

”On this miserable day, you will be contained.”

”It is pain that will never end.”

”Even if pain can be forgotten, despair will stab at your mind, dig through it, and crush it.”

Several Ferrymen appeared like wraiths and chattered, and between them, a few memories from the past flashed by. The words came only from the Ferryman’s illusion.

That was the end of it.

Eudokia cast an illusion spell, but Enkrid recognized reality within the span of a single blink.

It was the kind of mental domination that some had to break through by biting through their tongues, some by breaking their fingers, and some by clinging to desperate prayer, but for him, a single breath was enough to shake it off.

That was thanks to rolling around in the mental world with the Ferryman countless times, and because the density of his Will was higher than anyone else’s.

Once Enkrid came to his senses, he did not shout that an illusion like yours was useless. He could have, but by instinctive judgment, he held back and stopped his tongue. In other words, he used Will to stop the reflexive provocation that scraped out the other person’s insides.

Instead, he accelerated his thoughts to grasp the situation. He looked around and sensed the other party’s reaction.

’Carelessness is a useful tool.’

Lua Gharne’s teaching.

So he did exactly that. He induced the mage to lower his guard.

He loosened his pupils and let his eyes blur, opened his mouth like he might drool, let his arms hang, then half-sloppily gripped his precious engraved weapon so that, to anyone looking, the tip of the sword dropped to the ground with a tap.

The engraved weapon read his intent and played along. It went limp and damped down its presence as much as possible.

’We work together pretty well.’

Thinking that, he stared blankly ahead with vacant eyes. The speed at which the steel golems came charging would have seemed fairly fast to an ordinary person, but to a knight’s eyes, it was slow.

His slackened thoughts, five senses, and sixth sense all honed themselves to a razor’s edge. Over that, intuition tore through his head like lightning.

As the five senses surged, his synesthetic perception grew, and he saw a single line connected to the mage.

Between gap and gap, he moved according to that intuition. His insight sorted through and established everything happening in the present situation. That was how Enkrid glimpsed the future.

He moved while seeing a mere inch ahead.

Grounded in the fundamentals of swordsmanship, he shifted his center of gravity and swung the sword diagonally. His right foot kicked off the ground, and his left foot stamped far ahead. The explosive force gathered through all of those motions transferred into the slash.

Boom—

The sound of bursting air followed after.

’I missed.’

He had thought he had cut perfectly.

’A spell.’

The bastard’s body suddenly popped out from between the steel golems. He could feel some intangible ripple coming off the man trying to disrupt his senses, but he ignored it.

His sense for recognizing spells pinpointed the enemy’s exact location.

”The one who gets fooled is the moron.”

Enkrid let loose the tongue he had been holding back. He taunted him like that and turned his body. Seeing it, veins rose on the mage’s forehead.

***

”What?”

It was not enough for Eudokia’s entire inner spell world to shake, but his emotions still boiled.

He was not angry because of Andrew’s words from back there.

’I got fooled?’

He was Astrail’s Master. Someone like him had been deceived? It was absurd. He was furious at himself for having been fooled in the end. And to think he had not even realized the man had broken free of the spell.

If the other Masters found out, it would be something they would mock to the fullest.

”How did you break free?”

On one side, the five disciples he had raised were fighting. Beside them, the two servants borrowed from the demons were locked in battle. One by one, lights were coming on atop the city wall, but none of that mattered. He only found himself growing more curious about the one who had escaped his illusion.

The opponent smoothly drew back the blade that had cut empty air and raised it overhead. With the tip pointed skyward in a high stance, filled with the intent to cut him down in a single blow from above, he asked back,

”What?”

Shameless.

Thinking that, Eudokia prepared his next spell. In truth, he was not someone to trade words with.

As though he agreed with that fact as well, the bastard stepped forward again. The instant he moved his foot, the knight’s body became an afterimage.

Eudokia shaped wind into blades and raised a wall before the man. Behind that, he sent out twenty steel golems again.

He left four wrapped around himself and kept preparing different spells in succession.

”Dreams are calling you.”

With that, he completed a spell of his own creation. Another illusion spell. This one was called Boundless Dream.

Once caught, you dreamed a dream that never ended. The situation was not always the same, but the end was always a dream.

You suffered through nightmares and woke up, only for that too to be a dream; you thought you had finally escaped somehow and woke up again, only for that too to be another dream. Trapped in an eternal loop, you lost your mind like that.

You would never wake for the rest of your life.

Not unless he released it himself.

Everyone tried to avoid and turn away from reality, so the principle was to touch that weakness and magnify it.

”I don’t sleep.”

The answer came back. This time, the man did not even try to trick him. If Eudokia had been an ordinary person—or no, even an ordinary mage—he would have clicked his tongue in amazement.

It was not simply because the spell had been overcome.

It was because what that bastard had done in the span before giving that answer was truly astonishing.

Right before replying, the bastard named Enkrid had brought down five approaching steel golems.

’You have unusual skill.’

Unless the core was destroyed, a golem regenerated without limit. The golems split vertically stopped where they were.

His eyes could not see every movement the knight had performed. So he could not understand it.

Enkrid displayed five perfect vertical cuts, and in between them mixed in five thrusts. Each time the sword moved, the sound of bursting air rang out in succession, boom—boom—boom.

He cut vertically to expose the core, then thrust and shattered it. That was what Enkrid’s sword had accomplished.

’It’s like he’s fighting with lightning in his hand.’

Eudokia was a mage with tremendous insight. He was someone who had pursued truth all his life.

Even while appreciating the swordsmanship, he inferred, guessed, and uncovered the principle by which Enkrid had overcome the illusion.

’He rejects illusions.’

And one more thing.

’He evaded the wall of wind blades.’

It had been a spell only meant to hold his feet for a moment, but he had precisely recognized its range and slipped around it to the side. Then he had shattered the golems’ cores in an instant.

’He swung the sword at an invisible speed and broke the cores.’

To the eye, only the result remained. What was the missing cause in the chain of causality?

’The reason he doesn’t waver before illusions is because his core is different.’

It was a lump of Will unlike anything Eudokia had seen in his life, but he accepted the truth without trimming it.

’And he possesses a sense that grasps the range of a spell.’

Then he established the second reason as well.

Knowing was important. Even in a life-and-death fight, he clung to knowledge like this, and that was why he was Astrail’s Master.

The pinnacle of those who would gladly slaughter hundreds to attain truth—that was Astrail’s Master.

Maintaining a perception-acceleration spell was a burden. Rather than keep the opponent’s figure in his sight, Eudokia prepared a spell to tighten around him.

From the beginning, his spell had been aimed at Andrew. If anyone asked why, it was because he knew that man would not stand by and watch the people around him die.

Had he not already seen him move to stop Agrava’s Greeting?

Eudokia was not like ordinary mages.

He had eyes that judged the situation, and with the experience piled up countless times over, he chanted spells within the domain of tactics.

”Come forth, Walking Fire.”

So saying, he took out a Word-Command spell by offering as sacrifice a hundred living hearts from within his spell world and part of an artificial body he had made to stand in for his own lifespan.

It was a spell completed by forming a hand seal with his left hand alone and finishing it with a trigger word.

The moment Eudokia’s words ended, sparks started spitting out right behind him—tak, tak—and before long a blazing monster of flame came out with a whoosh.

It was as if fire had suddenly erupted out of empty air and appeared, taking the form of a human with two legs and two arms.

Walking Fire did not approach Enkrid. Fire that moved as though alive could not handle a being that moved as fast as a knight.

From the start, that spell was meant to burn alive the people beyond the city walls. The real way to use Walking Fire was to burn an entire city like that and use the smoke made from it to shape a dragon.

Of course, it was still threatening in itself, which was why it had become a Word-Command spell.

That was the proper way to use a Word-Command spell—something only someone at Eudokia’s level would know. Even now, he was not in a situation where he could use it that way.

Thanks to his teleportation spell, Eudokia was closer to Enkrid’s companions than to Enkrid himself.

Walking Fire simply turned and ran. Toward Andrew and his three soldiers.

Enkrid was in the middle of slicing apart steel golems one after another at a terrifying speed. Only six steel golems remained.

”They’ll all burn to death.”

Eudokia said it.

Enkrid heard those words clearly. So did the ones withdrawing from behind.

Aisia moved to block Walking Fire’s path.

”You insane spell-slinger.”

Grinding her teeth, she cursed Eudokia, and beside her Andrew took his place and muttered in a self-mocking tone,

”Did I tease him too much?”

Why the hell was he suddenly throwing a Word-Command spell over here?

Andrew felt nothing but wronged.

Enkrid spotted Walking Fire, and the moment he tried to pull away, he saw the six golems suddenly swell and distort in shape.

Then the forearms that had been roughly bound into human form lengthened and flew at him as steel tentacles.

Enkrid’s sword grew faster. The Will resting within him became lighter than it had been a moment ago, and the blade took on a sharpness beyond even Night Walk.

The engraved weapon wrapped around his hand. Feeling the unity of becoming one with the sword, he swung it.

He thrust, cut, struck, and smashed. When a tentacle shot up from below, he blocked it with the flat of the blade and shoved it aside, then used that force to throw his body and extend the sword to the side. In that simple slash, the golem’s nape split open with a crack.

His sense for detecting spells told him there was a core between that split opening. There was no reason to hesitate, so as he drew back the sword he had swung, he cut the core.

Watching that, Eudokia confirmed his hypothesis once again. If the bastard was going to sense the core and cut it anyway, there was no need to hide the core in the first place. The golems’ purpose was clear.

To stall for time.

It was enough if they only bought the brief amount of time needed for Walking Fire to accomplish its purpose.

’No, there’s something else he’s aiming for.’

Enkrid realized it instinctively, but he had no time to choose another option. Even if there had been another option, he would not have chosen it.

There was no way he would knowingly leave Aisia and Andrew to die.

After cutting down all five of the golems whose forms kept changing at will, he was about to run—

and the mage revealed a new spell.

”Block him.”

At that one word, Walking Fire moved, and the smoke from the burned brush flew in and gathered, becoming a wall that blocked the way ahead. Enkrid recognized it before that wall was complete.

The muscles in his thighs swelled and expanded. With a crunch, his thighs thickened as though they would burst his pants apart, and the explosive force they spat out produced a feat on par with a teleportation spell.

Boom! Bang!

The ground and the air exploded at the same time. Even with a knight’s dynamic vision, everything around Enkrid looked like thin lines.

In an instant, his body caught up with Walking Fire.

’A spell.’

Enkrid thought. A spell was a cord connecting mana and reality. Because he could perceive that cord, he could cut it. The thought was brief and the action was fast.

Adjusting his speed as he ran, Enkrid split Walking Fire’s torso horizontally.

The Will dwelling in the engraved weapon spilled blue light and divided the flame monster into two.

Fwoosh.

Flame had no substance, so there was no reason it should be cut. Even if the flames scattered for a moment, the core principle of the spell called Walking Fire was that they would gather again immediately—

but once the mana feeding it was severed, the flames only scattered into the air as they were.

The heat shoved at Enkrid’s face. A blast of hot wind rose centered on Walking Fire as it perished and vanished, then shot upward over his head. Enkrid’s black hair tangled in the hot wind and fluttered up into the sky with a flap. As the smoke scattered, the clouds that had already been covering the moonlight thickened further.

Just as Enkrid casually turned back around, Eudokia achieved what he wanted.

He had prepared spell after spell and brought them into being. Sending out Walking Fire had been neither more nor less than a means of buying time. Even so, inwardly he was startled.

’He cut a Word-Command spell with one slash?’

Recognizing a spell and cutting one were different matters. At least, within the scope of the common sense he knew, they were.

The very sense of perceiving spells was already something that should have been treated as beyond discussion, and then the man had cut it.

He had done the kind of thing only some legendary butcher of spells out of old tales might show. Of course it was only natural to be surprised.

Naturally, he did not show such emotions on the outside.

Instead, he merely changed the kinds of spells he had prepared a little.