A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

Enkrid, Rem, Dunbakel, and Juol returned to Elder Bear, and—

“Welcome back.”

Hira, who had now become the eldest sorcerer, greeted them at the city entrance. She had sensed the change before anyone here could say a word and come out to meet them.

“What did you [N O V E L I G H T] do? Did you knock down some troublesome black bird that’s been a headache lately?”

Hira asked. Her tone showed anticipation.

In the West, there are several monsters that are troublesome in all sorts of ways. The sorcerer Hira had a good dream at night, and she guessed that since Enkrid and Rem had gone out, they’d killed a few of those things.

Hadn’t they been saying the monsters in the West had increased noticeably lately?

The guess was that because they’d driven monsters out by trading with the continent, the ones that had been cornered had gathered together and created this change. That was Gennarae’s thought, but it sounded mostly right.

Hira respected and trusted their martial strength. Just like how they had taken care of a troublesome giant bandit group on the way here, she expected they’d killed several monsters and come back.

“No.”

Rem shook his head. Hira blinked.

Did they really just go check the Demon-lands and come back? They didn’t even see the black bird on the way? Then why was this auspicious energy overflowing like this?

She was about to voice her questions when Juol couldn’t hold back and said,

“We killed Silence.”

Hira was an outstanding sorcerer, and she was an open-minded person with great tolerance.

No matter what you said, she could accept it and answer calmly. Her attitude became an example for many Westeners. She looked blunt, but she was warm and devoted.

“Was there a monster called Silence?”

She asked back.

“You could say it was a monster.”

Enkrid nodded at her words. She’d pierced the core. As expected of the West’s eldest sorcerer.

“Well, it’s not wrong to see it that way, but right now Hira doesn’t understand at all.”

Rem added an explanation.

“Aren’t you hungry?”

Dunbakel, who had burned through enough stamina in this fight to make it count, sniffed and asked.

“I’ll feed you well-cooked lamb.”

While Juol answered at the suggestion that they should eat something, Hira’s pupils trembled finely.

Silence? A monster? A Demon-lands?

With several questions, her mouth opened again.

“What did you do?”

“Silence is gone now. Only their remnants remain. Go tell them, Hira. You came out because you felt something and came in advance, right? Wasn’t it to hear these words? I’ll say it again. Go tell them. The Demon-lands Silence is over. Nothing like the Violet Mine or the Tail-Needle will come out of there. Silence is dead.”

It was a speech from Rem, who rarely spoke at length. It was flat, but heat was mixed into the words. Even for him, this was something too violent to pass through without being shaken.

Hira’s hands trembled. She didn’t ask if it was real. She turned around, and discovered Owl standing there.

“Owl.”

Hira called Owl. Owl walked forward past Hira. With a gaze fixed on Rem like blazing fire, she opened her mouth.

“What did you do?”

Instead of speaking long again, Rem nodded once.

“Silence is gone now.”

In the West, the Demon-lands called Silence was like a word that meant a wound. So many people had died to that Demon-lands. There were not a few who had lost family, lovers, and acquaintances to that Demon-lands.

Someone saw Silence as an enemy, and someone saw Silence as an untouchable monster.

Sometimes a few sorcerers who had lost their minds even spat out that they should accept Silence as a new god.

The Demon-lands Silence was the beginning of every tragedy the West had.

‘The sunlight is unusually good today.’

Enkrid looked up at the sky, looked at Owl, and watched Rem’s back. Owl was calm. No—she only looked like that on the outside.

To the eyes of a knight who handled Will, he could see her momentum jutting and changing this way and that. It was because her feelings were shifting.

“If you need testimony, I’ll do it.”

Enkrid, who had cut it down himself, raised a hand and said. Of course, testimony wasn’t necessary.

From the moment they returned, the next day had been time where everyone asked this and that and sought answers.

“Silence is a Demon-lands, so what do you mean you ended it? It’s not just some colony monster, it’s a Demon-lands—does that make sense?”

Centered around Gennarae, a few Westeners who had grown used to life on the continent threw out their doubts. Besides that, there were quite a few people who still didn’t understand what they were saying.

Even so, there wasn’t a single person who treated Enkrid and Rem like mimic cats. A Westener who couldn’t believe their words was like a mirage that couldn’t exist in this situation.

They believed, and that was why they were confused.

“If it’s my husband, then of course he can do it.”

Among them, Jiba showed rock-solid belief.

“A man who carries a storm wherever he goes.”

Leona marveled. Did a Demon-lands die if you killed it?

Questions rose, but since they’d done it, there was nothing to say. Their faith was solid.

Were the other Westeners any different? To them, Enkrid was a savior. Rem was a genius who had grown up among them and was family.

Even so, this wasn’t something they could just nod and say, “Right,” and be done with it.

“We’ll need confirmation.”

The Great Narae chieftain stepped forward. He was still friendly, but he knew well that you couldn’t simply let something like this pass with a mere “I understand.”

If it was real, it would be good to make it clear to everyone.

If it was fake, they would have to ask what in the world this was supposed to be.

In the meantime, Enkrid rested well, ate the food Juol cooked for him, and drank the beverage Jiba brought him.

“That woman isn’t our obstacle, right?”

Jiba had become a brazen child while he hadn’t been looking. It was what she blurted out the moment Leona approached.

“There are two obstacles even more savage than me. You bold little thing.”

Leona laughed and took the words in stride, then pulled out a drink made with Paradise Water. A pale, milky liquid sloshed in a cup baked from mud. Enkrid took it and drank, and Leona, seeing that, asked again.

“How is it?”

Enkrid marveled at the taste and scent filling his mouth.

Wasn’t there more than enough value for her to get greedy for trade?

The sweetness and the sharp tingle in his mouth, along with a faint fruit scent, were stimulating.

“If Kraiss finds out, I think he’ll start talking investment immediately.”

High praise. Leona answered with a full smile.

“I think it could be even better if we improve it a little.”

Even if it’s good raw material, it doesn’t end with just supplying it to stores. It has meaning only if people know why this is good and excellent. That way, people will look for this drink here and there.

For that, Leona planned to run a cafeteria or restaurant herself.

It went without saying, but work like this needed many hands. One of them caught her eye.

“If it’s cooking, I’ll.”

It was Juol. As it happened, he was full of plans to open a shop specializing in West-style cooking.

Leona’s eyes glittered. The merchant route map, the treasure of the Lockfried Caravan, recorded various specialties produced across the entire continent.

Using that, she would open specialty restaurants based on the famous dishes of each region. Her commercial sense quickly drew several pictures. The start would be traditional West cuisine connected by Stone Road.

“Juol, should I open you a shop?”

She was faithful to her role in no time. Enkrid kept his mouth shut and watched as a spectator.

Just now, Leona had found a new dream, and she had finished deciding to work to achieve it.

“I’ll hang the name Lockfried Restaurant across the entire continent.”

She murmured.

It was a dream similar to Kraiss’s salon. Naturally, Enkrid supported even that.

“Keep it up.”

“If you have nothing to do later, tell me. I’ll always keep the vice-leader seat open.”

“So you know that’s something the current vice-leader would be really upset to hear.”

“No, if it’s you, no one would refuse.”

A worthless joke was a remedy that made him forget the moment he suffered hallucinations inside Silence. This time that might look meaningless to someone else was enjoyable to Enkrid, and something he didn’t want to miss.

Keeping daily life—not just protecting the people behind his back, but protecting their daily lives too.

Enkrid adjusted his dream that way.

The news that Silence had ended spread to all the surroundings in less than half a month.

If you saw the barley field that had grown overnight in front of Silence’s boundary line, anyone would rub their eyes.

They checked, accepted, were surprised, and rejoiced. After that came a festival.

“Eat and drink!”

Before the Great Narae chieftain, Owl’s father, could even shout it, everyone pulled out the provisions they’d stored.

Hadn’t they said the West enjoyed having fun by nature?

Because they lived in a barren environment, a culture had taken root where they lived sparingly normally, but about one day a year they would let it all go like this and enjoy themselves. That day was today.

“Demon-lands killer!”

A new title was born for Enkrid. The snowflakes that had been falling when he arrived had left no trace. It was spring. It was warm. A spring where warmth seeped into the wind had come.

***

For several days, Enkrid heard words like savior and hero, received thanks from Owl, and the chieftain approached and put his head to the ground.

Jiba pointed at her mother and insisted she was a confirmed beauty type, and Hira, as the eldest sorcerer, cast a blessing sorcery representing the entire West.

That night after receiving that sorcery. In his dream, the ferryman endlessly threw mockery at him.

“Bring me God’s blessing. Even if you become the goddess’s companion, my curse is eternal. Immortal. It won’t leave your side.”

Each ferryman’s desires are different, but all of them resent the gods. Enkrid realized that anew, nodded, and answered.

“What you want.”

The road he had to go was still long. His mindset of cheering on everyone’s dreams still hadn’t changed.

And if what a ferryman wanted was something even he could acknowledge as worthwhile—

Then instead of saying he didn’t want to or he wasn’t doing it, he would be able to cheer on that dream.

“How unlucky.”

The ferryman read Enkrid’s inner thoughts and said. As it did, one corner of its mouth tore up to its ear in a smile, but it didn’t look like mockery.

“I’ll admit it. There’s never been a guy like you.”

That was what it said.

The ferryman held so many mortals. Wrapped them in its curse, watched and felt with them, and enjoyed fragments of life.

Because that was its only amusement and joy.

To the ones who couldn’t endure even one day, it threw scathing criticism and blame, and to the ones who endured day after day, it lived by mocking them that they would never cross the wall.

What does that ferryman really want?

Enkrid didn’t bother asking. He didn’t even think it through. Right now wasn’t the moment that needed an answer.

It was a thought that rose naturally. He hadn’t glimpsed the future, but that certainty lifted its head in his heart.

That now was not the time to touch that ferryman holding this curse, this mad collective.

“Are you comparing whose madness is stronger?”

If Kraiss knew, he would have said it like this.

After meeting the ferryman like that, along with Gennarae, he met the growing sprouts of the West and gave them instruction.

“You bastards, and you still think you can be called the West’s pillar?”

In the process, Rem burst out in anger.

It wasn’t a big deal. Enkrid ran together with the ones in the West who were considered something, and after running, he taught them endurance through sparring.

They couldn’t openly say demon this or that, but everyone’s pupils trembled and they asked how long they had to keep doing this.

When the number of those who gave up early, not even fainting, exceeded five, Rem got angry.

“Uweh.”

Beside him, Gennarae threw up what was inside.

This wasn’t a big deal either. If you’re a teacher, isn’t it the law that you must do what they wouldn’t even dare imagine?

Gennarae had to set an example, and he did. He endured an ordeal five times harder than an ordinary warrior.

For two days, Enkrid sparred with Gennarae more than forty times and pounded his whole body.

Several sorcerers who also served as healers latched onto Gennarae’s side, whose whole body except his face was bruised yellow and blue.

“Have I finally come to a world where my kidney’s roaming?”

Gennarae, sprawled out, said while looking at the air.

“No. If you go there, you’ll die.”

The eldest sorcerer stopped him.

“I can see a river, though?”

Another warrior said.

“My dead grandfather is waving.”

The warrior beside him said too.

Well, there were many Westeners who spat out things like that.

“These weaklings?”

Rem burst out in anger again.

After Enkrid pounded them once, the next day Rem pounded them again. There wasn’t even a speck of intent to torment them.

Why were they doing this? There were many reasons.

“Great Narae chieftain, even if Silence is dead, the Demon-lands remains.”

Rem said.

It would be nice if it could be swept away at once and erased, but a Demon-lands that had taken root here for a long time wouldn’t vanish overnight.

After that too, the probability was high that colonies and the like would settle in there. No—if they did nothing, it wouldn’t be wrong to see that as a fixed future.

To prevent that, what did they have to do?

It was Rem’s conclusion.

“Countless warriors have to go in there.”

The Great Narae chieftain accepted those words and opened his mouth.

“That is something you can stay and do.”

Then he added.

“You are my daughter’s companion and the father of my granddaughter. Don’t you think that’s a natural demand?”

It was true. Enkrid, who was sitting with them, raised a teacup and said.

“You can stay, Rem.”

Enkrid wouldn’t resent him for staying here. Rem knew, and Enkrid knew, and Owl knew.

Everything was only their own choice.