A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

Ragna’s hand twitched and moved up to the grip of his sword after hearing Rem’s sermon, but he didn’t draw it.

If he cut him now, it would mean killing a wounded man.

That would not be a victory, but the same as losing.

“Not now.”

He could kill him once he healed.

Ragna held back.

Jaxon, on the other hand, briefly considered slitting that bastard’s throat before dawn arrived.

Using Carmen’s stiletto to stab him somewhere around the solar plexus might be nice, and if not that, slicing an ankle wouldn’t be a bad choice either.

Of course, he only thought about it.

He wouldn’t actually do it.

Instead, maybe he could spike Rem’s food with something?

There was a drug that made a man shit uncontrollably.

“No, that bastard’s stomach won’t be affected by drugs.”

Westerners had tough guts, and Rem was worse than most of them.

Even if the drug got mixed in, he wouldn’t eat it.

He’d probably catch the smell.

And making a scentless drug would be too much of a hassle, too much effort for someone like that savage.

“Oh Lord.”

Audin called out to the Lord without even a hint of laughter.

This time, the “Oh Lord” was laced with pure fury.

The God of War might descend at any moment.

Golden light rippled through his body like small waves, rising from his ankles to his chest and fading again.

In the scriptures, it said to forgive those who had received their just punishment even if they were sinners, and to forgive those who erred out of lack.

This was the latter—of the latter.

Audin decided to forgive Rem, who lacked what should’ve been in his head.

Rem looked satisfied, his face pleased, having achieved what he intended.

After that sermon, he spoke as usual.

“Hey, Captain’s finally worth playing with now. Hey, Lost Kid, from now on call me Vice Captain. And don’t call the big guy ‘Brother,’ just call him ‘Big Bro.’ And you, alley cat—just stay out of sight.”

“There is no Vice Captain.”

Enkrid immediately denied the part that could cause problems.

“Oh, is that so? Let’s say so then.”

Rem nodded with a smile.

As if to say, “What does it matter?”

The three of them had already held back once, so they ignored Rem’s words.

They had seen the power of what Rem had just done.

And Rem was just the beginning.

Everyone had something hidden up their sleeves.

“The medicine made with the leaves of Druires will all end up being used by you yourself.”

Anne approached after the thing—whether it was a duel, a fight, or a natural disaster—had ended.

As she spoke, she applied various medicines to Enkrid’s body.

Jaxon watched from the side and asked her this and that, and surprisingly, she was quite knowledgeable about medicine, so their conversation mostly aligned.

While receiving treatment, it didn’t look like there was any bad blood between them.

Enkrid asked Jaxon, who was showing more friendliness than expected,

“Your lover won’t be upset?”

It was an offhand joke, implying he was getting too close to Anne.

It was like a side effect of hanging around fairies too much.

But when he heard the joke, Jaxon stared blankly, then bluntly replied,

“All it takes is a dagger coated in poison. Just get close before he draws his sword.”

Enkrid paused in thought at those words.

Was it two days ago? He remembered Jaxon mentioning he’d gotten behind him.

He hadn’t said much at the time, and Enkrid had only been slightly surprised.

But now, hearing this, he thought he understood what he meant.

“I wasn’t off guard then. Even if a dagger or arrow had suddenly come flying at me, I would’ve reacted. I could even hear Odd-Eye’s snorting from far off at the time.”

Odd-Eye had stayed nearby for a day or two after confirming Enkrid’s return, then left.

As if that was enough between friends—he didn’t run up or show any extra affection.

“Everything from Odd-Eye’s presence to the happenings around me was within my awareness.”

If needed, or if instinct had responded, he would’ve known.

But Jaxon had slipped past all those threads of perception and tapped his back.

“I let him get behind me.”

If Jaxon had held a poisoned dagger back then—

“That was the time, wasn’t it.”

“That was the time.”

It was something only the two of them understood.

“What are you talking about?”

Anne asked, but they both refrained from explaining.

There were too many things that couldn’t be put into words—like the undetectable thrust or the ways of infiltrating the domain spread by one’s senses.

Anne didn’t ask further.

She wouldn’t understand even if they explained, and frankly, she wasn’t interested.

Her focus was on making medicine, creating cures for every illness—and Ragna.

Enkrid listened to Jaxon’s words and fell into thought again.

“Rem used slings and prepared shots that exploded even when blocked. Jaxon said he could reach my back.”

Somehow, it was different in form from his duel with Rem, but still fun.

Like a child’s game of tag where they tie a cloth to their back and chase each other to snatch it.

“I mustn’t let my back get caught.”

There was no point in dueling Jaxon.

Victory would come by winning in the domain of perception.

With Rem, it was about enduring the projectiles he threw.

Both of them seemed to be saying the same thing.

That’s how it sounded.

He hadn’t been caught yet.

They didn’t say it aloud, but will doesn’t have to be spoken to be conveyed.

These two crossed a line and pushed forward again.

How long has it been since I surpassed them, and now they’re overtaking me again?

Rem said he was the beginning.

Next came Ragna.

Enkrid, as soon as his body had recovered, went up against Ragna again.

To put it simply, Ragna was completely serious about breaking through the swordsmanship Enkrid had been exploring.

Whoosh.

The duel with Ragna was the opposite of Rem’s.

Their blades couldn’t even clash—so it wasn’t flashy.

“How was that?”

Ragna asked.

A thrill he’d never shown before flickered in his red eyes.

He was excited.

He was frozen in the posture of swinging his sword.

And yet, there were no openings.

Ordinary swordplay was imbued with something extraordinary.

That extraordinariness was even visible to the eye.

“How did you do it?”

“I did it with power.”

Hearing that made Enkrid feel apologetic toward Ermen the fairy.

Was that really supposed to be an explanation?

“Can you really do that just by doing it powerfully?”

“Yes, I can.”

Ragna spoke as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, and Enkrid, inwardly, agreed.

If there’s nothing else to do but power through, then that’s what you should do.

What else could you do?

Ragna had momentarily doubled the size of his sword and overlaid something similar to a fairy’s spirit blade along its edge before swinging.

Enkrid had narrowly dodged it, sensing instinctively that he would die if he blocked it.

In other words, this wasn’t meant for a duel.

“Is this a duel?”

Enkrid asked.

“So you don’t like it?”

Ragna asked in return.

That damned Rem, that damned Lost Kid—everyone was just expressing their madness.

Instead of practicing a duel, they were just seeking ways to win.

There were no rules.

Nothing was set.

There was only will to move forward, only desire to improve.

How could it not be fun?

“No.”

Enkrid answered plainly.

A smile had already formed on his face.

Of course he didn’t dislike it.

Ragna’s sword was nearly impossible to block or dodge.

You could even call it a sword that cuts through wave-blocking blades.

“I have to figure out what that aura around his sword is if I’m going to block it too.”

Ragna himself seemed not to know how he had done it.

To understand it, he’d have to dig, question, and examine.

“Systemization.”

It wasn’t over yet.

If anything, it was just beginning.

No—this was the beginning.

Since it was just starting, there was much to do going forward.

Finally, even Audin found a solution.

He copied Enkrid exactly.

“It’s a method to block a downpour.”

His way might have been a little different, but he used the wave-blocking blade to hold out and endure it.

When he lost the exchange in the middle, he just tanked it with his body, but the holy steel-plated armor was strong enough to block Penna.

But then, in that moment, Audin used sacred power in a form similar to the previous two.

The golden light gathered and changed into something like thick leather.

“He condensed and reinforced it.”

Will is an immaterial force.

Can you even gather it by trying?

That raised questions.

Brought about doubts.

But his thoughts soon shifted.

“If I think it can’t be done, then nothing will work.”

If you think it can be done, anything can.

Acker, a knight of a previous era, had once infused his Will into a sword, creating something like a demonic blade.

What he infused was part of his will, and it became a separate consciousness that manifested within the sword.

That was his specialty in manifestation.

“Will, sorcery, sacred power—all of it can change.”

Endure is a power to withstand, but if you train it, it becomes steel armor.

Will transforms and becomes a defense that hardens the body.

“They say there’s a stage where it never dries out or runs dry—that’s called Uské. And there’s another stage where the very thing you possess is different. That’s called Indurés. It’s an ancient word.”

He remembered something Lua Gharne once said.

She had passed on a saying that had been handed down for generations, and now Enkrid could reflect on it and define it anew.

“Uské is an undrying well—it’s about the amount of Will. And Indurés...”

It wasn’t about amount but quality.

Will of a different kind.

How do I reach it?

How do I awaken it and come to understand it?

The path ahead was utterly unclear.

It felt like the Boatman might suddenly pop out and mock him again.

“When will you learn that? After dying thousands of times like before? Erode and shatter. That’s how you’ll be broken and trapped in today.”

The Boatman’s mocking didn’t matter.

Enkrid, as always, just grew excited.

“Indurés.”

He had Uské.

He had even implemented it into swordsmanship.

But Indurés was still a realm completely unknown to him.

Thump.

His heart pounded.

Euphoria welled up—he wanted to run.

That’s how turbulent his emotions were.

Excitement and anticipation created a feeling that made him want to explode.

“...Are you really planning to sleep under the stars? Why destroy perfectly good lodging? I don’t get it. Well, not that I need to. I’ll rebuild it. Bigger this time. Until then, stay in tents. That’s more comfortable, right?”

Kraiss’s voice buzzed beside him, but it barely registered.

“Are you listening? Doesn’t seem ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) like it. Yeah, not listening. Why is he mad again this time?”

Kraiss turned away from Enkrid.

There were things to approve and some business to attend to.

But in this state, talking would be pointless.

Enkrid, standing in place, performed nothing but down-slashes three hundred times.

Thinking through repetition had always been an old habit of his.

He pondered and puzzled.

In the process, he looked toward a new destination and dreamed.

How could that not be joyful?

As night fell and his excitement cooled slightly, Enkrid looked at his unit and spoke his honest feelings.

“I mean this seriously—you’re all insane.”

More than just listening, he felt like he was speaking like Crang.

It was a statement delivered with sincerity.

And all of his unit was heavily offended by it.

“...Seriously, that’s the one thing we don’t want to hear from you, Captain. And I mean it.”

Rem didn’t snap back, but spoke more seriously than ever.

“Begone, evil spirit. Oh Lord, cast out the demon dwelling within this man’s mind.”

Audin prayed.

He even called over Teresa to sing a hymn at his side.

Teresa nodded and promptly joined in to help drive out the demon that had possessed Enkrid.

“Who’s saying what to whom? Did Anne spike the medicine?”

Jaxon said after observing the visible intensity and joy in Enkrid’s eyes.

You couldn’t act like this without drugs.

There was no telling why he was like this.

Then again, come to think of it, he was always like this.

He’d suddenly improve and suddenly do crazy things.

It wasn’t even surprising anymore.

He just didn’t like being lumped together with the barbarian types.

Jaxon subtly stepped back and pushed Rophod forward.

“Not me. I’m fine.”

Rophod denied it.

Pell muttered beside him, “Is madness part of talent too?”

Hearing that, Rophod replied,

“Right, then you’re a genius. You’re already a mad bastard.”

Their gazes clashed sharply.

Esther, in leopard form, sat on the roof with her chin on her paw, watching.

Lua Gharne was roasting caterpillars beside a tent near the wrecked barracks.

When roasted, they tasted sweeter than honey, so she wasn’t planning to share.

Not that anyone would ask.

While the caterpillars crackled on a wooden skewer, Lua Gharne puffed her cheeks and smiled.

“Do you really have to say it out loud?”

As if to ask, “Isn’t that obvious?”

Naturally, no one listened.

The truth is always bitter—but if you never speak it, you can hide it.

“You’re saying I’m the crazy one? Doesn’t feel that way. Sure, they all did some ridiculous things during what was supposed to be a duel, so... maybe.”

Ragna’s final remark caused a stir.

“Huh? You wanna die? The Captain’s down one arm, but your head’s still on your shoulders, Lost Kid.”

“I’ll just slice it off before he gets here.”

“Wanna try?”

“Go ahead.”

Rem and Ragna started fighting.

“Stop whining about talent. If you set a limit on yourself, that’s all the farther you’ll ever go.”

“Oh, I get it. I’m fine because I have limitless talent, but you’re pissed because you don’t. That’s fine. I understand. I won’t comfort you, but I’ll pretend not to notice. I won’t tell the trainees you’re mentoring.”

Pell said, miming zipping his lips.

Rophod flinched at that.

Why had this guy suddenly gotten so talkative?

His taunts had evolved.

He used to be similar to Rophod, but now he was different.

“Wanna die?”

Rophod bit back.

“Oh wow, are you the one person in the world who actually wants to die?”

Pell shot back smoothly.

It was clear—he’d grown.

The reason?

His journey with Enkrid.

He had learned on the way back.

With that realization, Rophod looked at Enkrid with a hint of resentment—then quickly tossed it aside.

At first, he’d wondered why Enkrid taught Pell separately, but now it didn’t seem like such a big deal.

He could just catch up.

Lua Gharne finished roasting her caterpillars and ate alone.

Jaxon began carving wood he’d gotten from somewhere.

As he shaved away, thin bark strips fell to the ground.

Watching it all, Enkrid let out a chuckle.

And the thought came to him—

He really liked this place, this seat, and these people.

None of them mocked another’s dream.

If they thought their skills were lacking, they trained.

That was natural.

They didn’t get jealous or try to win through underhanded means.

To them, that was only right.

Was it really so obvious?

How much had he wandered to find this?

How many had envied, cursed, or mocked him?

It just came to him—what he had longed and dreamed of in a knight order was right here.

So—

“Would you consider walking the path of a Holy Knight? You should believe in God.”

—when asked the next day, he was able to shake his head with unwavering will.

“...And who might you be?”

“You could say I’m your foster father, Brother.”

It was a guest who had come to Bodyguard while Enkrid was in the fairy city.