A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

A thin light could be seen between the tightly blocked paths. There was no reason not to grab it.

“Is that the answer you chose?”

A hallucinated voice was heard, and a hallucination was seen.

“Choices come with responsibility.”

Who was speaking?

“Even if you turn today back, you won’t be able to rebuild everything anew.”

Heh heh, hah hah, puh-heh-heh, kah-ruruk.

Various laughter mixed together and reached his ears. If you heard voices like that somewhere under a catacomb, it would be perfectly reasonable to piss yourself.

‘It’s close.’

He had crossed halfway over the Demon-lands boundary.

As Enkrid cut down the giant ogre and sprinted forward, the Demon-lands fog thickened in an instant. He hadn’t even walked a few steps before he couldn’t tell front from back. When he opened his eyes, it was fair to say he was in the middle of the Demon-lands.

‘Did it stretch the boundary line for an instant?’

The Demon-lands acted like it was alive, wrapping around him as if it had been waiting for him to come in. That was endlessly fascinating. Wasn’t it clearly different from the places he’d experienced up until now?

Anyway, because of the fog’s influence, he heard hallucinated voices.

‘The fog of delusion and bewilderment.’

Silence, the Demon-lands itself attacking. When physical means didn’t work, it aimed for the mind.

One of the words that came out of the hallucinated voices stabbed straight for Enkrid’s heart.

‘Choices come with responsibility.’

Everything he had missed on the road he’d walked rose up. Not just Geor and Pit, but far too many who had died and fallen because he lacked strength. The Demon-lands jabbed at that point, but hadn’t he already gone through it countless times?

Enkrid was the same as ever. He didn’t waver.

‘There is no right path.’

There is only the path you chose.

If you put it Ragna’s way, you’d have to say there are only right paths.

“If you keep walking, that path becomes the right path.”

What about what you left behind?

What you set on flowing river water, you leave and move on. If you shackle your left foot with regret and your right foot with lingering attachment, you can’t even take a step.

‘Choose, and move forward.’

As if you were someone who had never failed even once.

“Right.”

A bright voice cut in between the hallucinated voices. He couldn’t see a figure. Enkrid opened his eyes and swung his sword. At some point, a black tendril-like thing that had twisted around his ankle was cut clean through by that slash.

Between the severed tendrils, thick black ooze flowed. The viscosity was so strong it had the texture of tree sap.

With that slash, the fog retreated. It felt like the Demon-lands boundary had pulled back a step.

Thanks to that, he returned to the spot where he had stopped while seeing the boundary again, not the middle of the Demon-lands. It was a strange experience.

“You said you wouldn’t let them cross the line—how far are you going?”

It was Rem. Thick black liquid beaded on the axes in his hands, then dripped off.

“Because I kept walking and there was something.”

Enkrid raised Night Walk and pointed forward.

The monsters had come out past a certain number and then stopped. The last one had been a large ogre, and—

It wasn’t the stage to relax. If something was still wriggling inside, this wouldn’t be the end.

It was what the visible phenomena—beyond intuition and instinct—were telling them.

“Are we going back now?”

From behind, Juol asked. Even though he was swept up in shivers, he didn’t forget what he had to do. He pulled back the bellopter they’d ridden in on and gauged the range the Demon-lands was affecting.

He was a friend who did his own job neatly.

“Doesn’t look like it.”

The answer came from Dunbakel. Up until just a moment ago, she’d thought running was the top priority, but now her thoughts had changed.

Silence was a dormant volcano that had stopped. Whether there was some separate trigger for it erupting now, or whether it moved because the time had come, she didn’t know—but what was certain was that if they left it alone, few of the people living in this area would survive. That was tomorrow set in stone. A future Dunbakel could see too.

“We’re going deeper, right?”

Dunbakel asked. She hadn’t forgotten the fear engraved into her instincts. She only hoped what she was doing now wasn’t reckless bravado.

Enkrid looked ahead. Through the fog that obstructed his vision, gray trees and rocks could be seen. The gray leaves surrounding them looked like walls in and of themselves.

‘Go back and prepare.’

Either lead the order of knights and come, or devise some other means.

‘At the very least, if we bring Esther?’

Wouldn’t that be better than now?

He accelerated his thoughts and measured all kinds of situations. If he put it off, it would be more stable.

But.

‘The danger right now has to be accepted.’

Enkrid listened to another voice of his own.

Right now was a moment no one could intervene in.

Choose, and take responsibility.

If that is the life you want, then do it that way.

“I’m going in.”

Enkrid said. Beyond this was an unknown world, and the Demon-lands.

Rem or Dunbakel might die. Then should he leave the two of them behind? Yeah, that might be right. The choice wasn’t his to make. That was why he said “I’m going in,” not “Let’s go in.”

Enkrid just focused on killing the unknown something that was blocking his way.

“Owl said this. Don’t think about dying—think about saving everyone. If I leave you alone, Captain, I’m worried you’ll just up and die somewhere, so I can’t send you in alone.”

Rem said.

“So is it that thing where if you listen to your wife, tteok (steamed grain cake) will appear even while you’re sleeping?”

Juol muttered.

In the west, they make something called tteok instead of bread and eat it. Both use wheat as the ingredient. Simply put, bread is baked, and tteok is made by letting it hold moisture, then steaming it.

Enkrid had eaten what they served as western-style cooking a few times too. A dish called wheat-seolgi—wheat flour sifted through a strainer and mixed with Paradise Water—had a superb, mouth-clinging taste.

“Owl’s the type to throw a fist if you don’t listen, instead of giving you tteok if you do.”

Rem corrected Juol’s words. For someone who had just killed several hundred monsters, jokes came easily.

Enkrid listened, then answered Rem.

“Up and die somewhere? Me? If we’re going by the sparring results, is it really my turn to worry about you?”

The previous spar had been Enkrid’s overwhelming victory. The win and loss were clear, and that gap still hadn’t been narrowed.

Rem’s eyebrows drew inward. The guy who had been wheezing when he first saw him was now standing over his head.

It felt good, but it also scratched at him in a strange way. In other words, his competitive spirit surged.

“You think I’ve been doing nothing but fooling around?”

“Ah, did you reeeaaally tryiii?”

Whose original words were the taunting mockery Pell had worn his mouth out repeating?

Enkrid asked without a hint of laughter. It was the face of someone genuinely curious. And yet he dragged out the pronunciation of the word “try,” poking at him.

His talent for provoking people had been outstanding from the start.

Rem let out a snort of a laugh. Enkrid laughed back at him.

Even if this was the end, he wouldn’t back down. Hadn’t he swung his sword every day so that what he was doing now wouldn’t become idiocy?

He had spent that harsh time to take responsibility for his choice. He fought with his life on the line, and walked and walked again.

“Quit the stupid things.”

He had heard that kind of talk countless times, and he had failed. In the process of those choices, Enkrid realized how lacking his own ability was.

So he moved even more fiercely. He drove his body harshly.

“I’m someone who protects the west. So you can’t go without me, is what I’m saying.”

Rem continued.

To Juol, it looked like insane behavior. Silence had never allowed people to enter until now. Even when there was no response at all, no one had dared to go in.

‘And right now it’s spewing out monsters.’

On top of that, Silence was in the middle of baring its fangs at them.

By common sense, you should stop them. That was right. That was the correct action.

But the words that came out of his mouth were the opposite.

“Other than you, no one can stop it, right?”

Juol asked. It was a question toward Rem. Sunlight pushed back part of the fog. Light seeped all the way to where they were standing.

Dunbakel sniffed. The rotting stench that had been coming from the Demon-lands grew a little fainter. They were standing while watching the Demon-lands boundary called Silence, and it felt like that boundary pulled back another step, testing them.

“I’ll stop it. I’ll live too, and I’ll save every last one.”

While Dunbakel was reading the smell, Rem answered. At those words, Juol thrust out his fist. Rem lightly touched his own fist to it. Tap, along with a light sound.

“Let’s go.”

Enkrid said.

Dunbakel’s true feelings were that she sincerely didn’t want to go along, not even if she made up some excuse.

She also knew they wouldn’t force her. Whether it was Enkrid or Rem, they’d just tell her to go. Sure enough, Rem spoke first.

“Go back and guard the city. If there’s a giant or a monster that slipped out, take care of it while you’re at it. It’s the price for all the food you’ve been eating. Beastman.”

Not “stink-breath,” but “beastman.” What was it that could be felt from that softened form of address?

“Damn it.”

Dunbakel kicked the ground. Near the Demon-lands boundary, which had turned dark brown, it caved in, and dirt flew up to head height.

“Does it matter whether it’s reckless bravado or courage? In the end, what matters is whether you can move when your heart wants to, or not.”

The eastern king Anu was a wise and intelligent person. Normally he acted like a frivolous person, but when it was needed, he shared the wisdom he had realized. Right now, Anu’s words came back to her.

‘Living and dying matters, but.’

What matters more than that is what you live for.

Dunbakel had fallen for the mad order of knights. She wanted to make this place her home. Then she had to go where they were going.

Also, this fight was about protecting the western cities where children who ran around with sheep and cows lived.

Dunbakel found value in existing in the act of protecting someone.

“Yap.”

The beastman said as she slapped her own cheek—smack.

“I’m coming with you.”

“Then do.”

Rem said indifferently, and added.

“Don’t let your guard down, Dunbakel. Up ahead is the Demon-lands. A Demon-lands no one has ever been able to enter.”

He even called her by name. It was proof of how dangerous it was. Dunbakel nodded even as she knew.

Enkrid had explored the Demon-lands a few times. In his mind, something like Thorn Castle rose up.

‘It’s more dangerous than there.’

For sure. Just from what he’d faced at the boundary, he could tell. A tingling sensation rode over the surface of his skin.

‘Ah.’

Aside from choice and responsibility, Enkrid felt a strange sense of expectation.

‘What’s going to come out?’

Whatever it was, it would be an opponent worth using his sword on.

After properly using Endure, Enkrid hadn’t properly added his swordsmanship on top of it and used it. Even just now, he had only swung his sword straight, heavy, and fast.

‘It didn’t even reach deception and softness.’

Is swordsmanship finished at that? No. The guy he’d met in the spring of twenty-seven, and the one who put a hole in his belly this time, looked down from a higher place than that.

Even after learning and mastering something new, there was still a long way to go. That alone filled him with joy.

As he stepped into the Demon-lands, he put on a smile. It was only natural someone would call him a madman.

“I don’t know. I’ll wait here until you come out.”

The man who dreamed of becoming a cook said. He steadied the bellopter, grasped the situation, and if they failed, he would immediately go to a western city to deliver an evacuation order.

Enkrid stepped into the Demon-lands together with Rem and Dunbakel. The moment they took the first step, the pitch-black fog changed into a dull dark-brown, surrounding them on all sides. It was similar to earlier.

“It smells like a real corpse that’s been aged for about five hundred years.”

Dunbakel grumbled and blew out through her nose.

“Does a five-hundred-year-old corpse still smell?”

Rem shot back.

“I’m saying that’s what it’s like. It’s vicious.”

Enkrid quietly checked his five senses. Visibility was short. It was hard to sense beyond ten steps.

‘Not just my eyes—smell and sound are blocked too.’

What is making it like this?

“The fog blocks the smell.”

Without even needing to think, Dunbakel spat out the answer. Her sense of smell grasped everything. She said it because she recognized the situation with her nose alone.

“Look at this? There’s sorcery mixed in.”

Rem spoke, rolled his tongue a few times, then opened his mouth again.

“It’s something called a living-spirit spell, where you trade life to live long, that kind of thing. And the Demon-lands’ energy got mixed in thick, so it got strange.”

Corrupted sorcery.

So is what’s hidden in there a sorcerer?

As the three of them walked like that, something like a heavy rock fell from above their heads. The three of them immediately jumped back.

Boom!

The rock struck the ground.

No—it wasn’t a rock. It was a foot packed with pitch-black claws and thick dark-brown vinyl-like skin.

-Dare.

Along with a sound like lightning striking above them, intent was transmitted.

“Didn’t you know there was something like this inside Silence?”

Enkrid asked as he looked up. It was pressure similar to a dragonkin’s word of command, crushing his whole body, but he had already shaken it off lightly.

“If I’d known, I would’ve caught it ages ago and bragged about it.”

Rem answered.

“A dragon.”

Dunbakel said as she grasped the enemy’s position with golden eyes. Above their heads, a monster the size of a decent fortress could be seen.

-Dare.

It spoke again, increasing the pressure mixed with killing intent. Enkrid flicked it away with a Will of refusal without a word. Rem snorted, and Dunbakel shook out her shoulders.

With that, they brushed off the pressure of the word of command. The dragon spat out the word of command again.

-Dare.

The killing intent contained in that language could burst a person’s heart just from hearing it. But the ones here were knights.

Those who fight by forging intent into weapons.

“Rem front. Me left. Dunbakel right.”

Rem blocks. Attack from the left and right.

Enkrid ignored the dragon’s word of command and discussed tactics.

“You’ve really grown, Captain.”

Rem marveled at those words. Usually, he led small-scale tactics, but this time Enkrid spoke first.

And it was truly a sound direction.

“As for height and equipment, I’ve always been bigger.”

At the casual joke, Rem answered with a deflated laugh.

“Let’s go.”

-Dare.

The dragon swung its foot along with the same word, as if it only knew a few words. They were up on tall gray trees. It wasn’t much different from a meteor falling. The rock-like foot came down and stamped the spot where they had been.

Boom!