A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

Among the people watching this spar, there were many from the minor tribes around Elder Bear, too.

One of them couldn’t bring himself to keep speaking.

His name was Badukbeom.

He was a hero who had been expanding his territory while Elder Bear traded and blocked the Demon-lands Silence.

’If I have time, I can take Black Wing too.’

With that mindset, he repeated training over and over. He built his skill through drills that were practically the real thing, then took those who had been tied together in a sloppy fence and remade them into a true single tribe.

His father had unified twelve minor tribes through blood ties and alliances until it reached the scale of a city, and now Badukbeom—who had truly made them one—planned to gather even more tribes and grow it into the scale of a nation.

How?

Take Elder Bear by force. After that, crush Black Wing, start with trade with the continent, and take everything.

With the resources and grain piled up that way, raise warriors again. With them, unify the entire West again, then set his sights on the continent. The plan sounded plausible. But like everyone else’s, wasn’t every plan plausible until you got punched in the face?

Badukbeom’s plan was just like that.

Even added together, they weren’t even half of Elder Bear, but he was the chieftain of twelve tribes. It meant he’d seen plenty of things in life. But right now, he’d taken the biggest shock of his entire life.

It felt like he’d been cracked across the skull with an iron club. The instant he got hit, his plan collapsed at once. It fell faster than a castle built from sand. He was honestly curious.

’Are those two really human?’

Was this the god of the kidneys playing a prank and coming down for a moment?

When you look at the sky from inside a well, it’s round. But when you step out, the sky isn’t round.

It just stretches far beyond the range of what you can grasp and shows you something called the horizon.

That line existed somewhere you could never reach in a lifetime, no matter how much you ran.

In Badukbeom’s eyes, he couldn’t properly see their movements. And he’d grown up being told he was a genius you’d never see again inside his tribe.

He couldn’t even follow their struggle with his eyes.

They were monsters. Monsters in the true sense of the word.

Before them, beasts weren’t even as good as an old bellopter that had lost every tooth to age.

A bleak feeling filled his head and covered his heart. The sky was clear, and a warm breeze was mixed into the cold wind, but in his heart, dark clouds piled up.

It was the moment frustration and despair linked arms.

”Do you still feel greedy?”

Black Wing asked from the side. Badukbeom flinched. Still, he didn’t show it.

”What are you talking about?”

”What, the obvious thing. I’m asking if you still want to unify the West with force.”

Black Wing asked again.

Did the Great Narae chieftain, Black Wing, and Owl not know he was there?

Including Hira, all of Elder Bear’s leaders had a firm grasp on the outstanding warriors of the nearby tribes. They were the pillars who would lead the West in the future.

And Badukbeom, in particular, had been one of the men most suited to become the next Great Narae chieftain in the West.

It was just that his vessel was too small, which was worrying—and separate from that vessel, he was full of greed, which made him a regrettable talent as well.

Still, his talent and skill were real, so he was someone they kept an eye on.

What he needed was to be told that there was another sky above the sky.

’Someone like me isn’t enough.’

Black Wing knew his own limit, so he waited for Rem. But if you crushed someone by force, would their heart be crushed too?

If that was the kind of person he was, it would be hard to entrust a West tribe to him later. So he had to break on his own and stand up on his own.

There was a way not to worry about things like this.

’If Rem came back and took charge of the West, that would be best, but.’

Black Wing knew Rem as well as Owl did. Rem wouldn’t come back. And even if Rem did, he wasn’t someone who would let himself be bound as some excellent chieftain.

Either way, Black Wing wanted Badukbeom to acknowledge everything, accept it, and overcome it on his own. More accurately, he wanted him to be the kind of person who could.

Someone who could have faith that even if dark clouds called frustration and despair ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) came, the sun could rise again someday.

That was the kind of talent Black Wing wanted.

’Even if you fall, get back up.’

It was what Black Wing had felt and learned most while watching Enkrid.

’They say he was originally nothing but a soldier?’

And he’d heard his skill had been so miserable he’d constantly close his eyes and roll on the ground.

It was truly hard to believe. Beyond subduing Silence and erasing it, even just looking at what he’d accomplished in the West before, it didn’t make sense.

But it was something Rem had proven, and Enkrid had acknowledged.

Black Wing had been like this even before, but after hearing that story, his respect for Enkrid grew beyond measure. That was why his prayer wasn’t aimed at a god, but at a person.

’Give this man some small piece of that, savior.’

Black Wing wished it in his heart toward the hero who had saved his life and this land, and looked at Badukbeom.

Badukbeom went pale, then quickly recovered his complexion and answered.

”If I say I don’t know what you’re talking about, does that make me the idiot here?”

After saying it, Badukbeom closed his mouth for a moment and sank into thought. His face was still full of bleakness.

He still needs time. Thinking that, Black Wing patted his shoulder.

”Stay even after the festival ends.”

”For what?”

Just because he needed time, did that mean you had to give him all the time he wanted? Not a chance.

There was always a shortcut. Black Wing was a man who lived with a West-style way of thinking.

This side has Maji—moments where you can’t miss the timing. If your skill is lacking, you fill it with Will. If your ability is lacking, you get the job done even if it means losing an arm or a leg.

That was a West warrior.

If you rest from hunting because you’re “not ready,” your wife and kids starve. In a situation like that, what time is there to “prepare”?

There’s no such bullshit in the West.

”You’ve got a chance to train with the man who just won. Around him, several West warriors are already training together. You should experience it too. You’ll learn a lot.”

He meant it. He’d relearned just how much it could hurt just to get beaten.

”Age is just an excuse. An excuse and a justification.”

If you emphasized that you were an old warrior, that kind of line came right back.

”Is the best warrior of your lot collapsing from just this? Is the West’s spirit only this much? Hm. Is that so.”

Mental attacks like that came nonstop, too. If it scraped your insides enough to make you stand up, they’d smile and pick up a sword.

”So you’ve definitely got strength left.”

Then they’d beat you again.

Had a Sparring Mine come out of that Silence instead of a Violet Mine? Black Wing had even had nightmares like that.

Meanwhile, Owl hadn’t dreamed anything at all, and Hira—who had become the eldest sorcerer—said lately it was nothing but good dreams and had a bloom of smiles on her face.

’It’ll help.’

Black Wing judged it that way. It definitely wasn’t because it felt unfair that only he had suffered. It definitely wasn’t because the savior, that bastard Enkrid’s training was at a level even a demon would click its tongue at.

”Stay. It’s a good chance.”

There was a spell in Black Wing’s words. Sincerity sometimes became a spell better than any spell.

Badukbeom couldn’t refuse.

’He’s really going to watch my training?’

His mind was hazy. Was that even possible? Someone who could become an enemy?

He was truly confused. Dizzy enough that the world might spin. He needed one clear fact. Then he could experience it directly. If it was a trap?

’Why would they dig a trap?’

If one of those two went to his tribe and killed twenty warriors including him, it would be over. There wouldn’t even be a need to fight properly.

It was because he couldn’t beat Elder Bear itself that he’d been gathering strength in the first place.

A knight was a disaster—West-style, a hero was a disaster.

When an ordinary person met a disaster, their mind was bound to shake. Badukbeom fell for Black Wing’s words completely.

BANG, CRACK!

After a few thunderous booms, the man called the greatest genius the West had produced spoke.

”What the hell did you really do?”

It was a line stuffed with shock. On the outside he looked calm, but inside he wasn’t. Rem lost again.

Of course, it was something Badukbeom couldn’t tell even if he watched. The man on the other side—the man who was supposed to “watch training”—retrieved his sword and answered.

”I did what I always do.”

What does “what I always do” even mean? Badukbeom was a man filled with greed. Even when it came to training and tempering, it was no different.

Now that things had flowed this way anyway, the desire to learn even one more thing from that man boiled up.

”Savior!”

With the shouts of those who had bet krona, the spar ended.

”Sparring Mine!”

Someone blurted out some nonsense, but it vanished as it mixed into the other shouting.

”Demon-lands killer!”

”Hero of the armistice!”

”Knight Enkrid!”

The cheers were so high it felt like they would tear the sky.

”Honey!”

In the middle of it all, one child’s voice was sharply clear, but of course that voice was buried under the other cheers.

”Owl, you—!”

Rem’s shout toward his wife—who had bet krona on Enkrid instead of him—didn’t mix with anyone else’s. He’d mixed in spell power when he shouted.

Of course, Owl pretended not to know and turned away. She gathered up her pouch and slipped out.

”Pour it! Drink!”

Someone’s excited shout followed.

And then morning dawned the next day. Badukbeom was a man who took pride in training early in the morning.

Planning to go ahead and wait, he headed to the place Black Wing had told him to come. It was just after dawn broke. Any other warrior would still be sunk in sleep.

Even a fairly diligent warrior might have rested, since yesterday had been a day of eating and drinking.

But hadn’t Black Wing come and told him over and over?

Come to the training grounds in the morning. Absolutely come. You must come.

The tone had been so persistent it sounded like a man possessed by some evil spirit.

And that was how he arrived.

’Already?’

There, he saw a man who had already finished morning muscle training, and a crowd of Elder Bear’s warriors.

A crowd of warriors that, if you met them in a battle zone, not a single one would be easy.

And they all had their mouths clamped shut. Even so, their eyes shone sharper than ever.

It was that their survival instinct had been pushed to the extreme, but Badukbeom couldn’t know that much.

”A new one? Ah, Black Wing said one was coming today. He said to treat him special, not like an ordinary warrior. For now, should we run?”

Enkrid said that, took them outside the city, and led them to the hills.

It was the start of training: run just enough not to die, and beat them down.

If you get hit, your skill improves. It was something Enkrid had learned with his own body. And it wasn’t like he was hitting anywhere at random—each blow targeted a gap the other person normally had.

If they blocked even just three of the places they got hit, their skill would increase by leaps and bounds. Enkrid calculated it all and simply walked the most efficient path.

Of course, to those experiencing the Sparring Mine, it would be a different story.

”Aaagh!”

Badukbeom’s scream spread wide, mixed into the warm breeze.

”It’s a trap!”

That kind of shout finally burst out, but it was a normal reaction. Didn’t everyone spout two lines of nonsense like that at least once?

Other West warriors were spending days on end meeting their dead grandfathers and coming back.

***

The boundary between desert and plain was a dry wasteland. A faint vitality stirred over it. It was a change that had come when the Demon-lands Silence collapsed.

”Just looking at it makes me happy.”

Rem said from atop a bellopter. Enkrid nodded.

It didn’t look bad to him either. How happy would it be to Rem.

”It’s coming.”

Dunbakel blurted from the side. The three of them had come out together to hunt beasts causing trouble nearby.

If they were going to stay for a while to train warriors and keep an eye on the situation, the intent was to use that time efficiently.

”A black bird?”

Enkrid muttered. Rem took it.

”More exactly, it’s a One-Eyed Crow beast that got bigger. It took influence from the Demon-lands Silence and turned into a real headache.”

The One-Eyed Crow beast didn’t have any special tricks. Instead, it was extremely smart—something that avoided stronger opponents and only targeted weak ones.

Normally, it was a beast with a body barely smaller than a human head, rushing down from above and gouging out eyeballs.

Now its body was more than three times Rem’s. It had become a unique specimen with a name.

That was why it had been given the name Black Bird. The moment it spotted the three from far away, it banked. It beat its wings and changed direction.

”It’s running. Smells like fear.”

After fighting in Silence, Dunbakel had pulled off something strange. She read emotions from the smell that came off beasts.

Of course, it was limited to simple behavior-pattern, instinct-driven beasts and monsters, but even that was something impressive.

”Hoo.”

Rem let out one breath and called down the deities into both hands. Descent dwells in the body, and possession dwells in the weapon.

’Angry Bird, Angry Bird.’

What was a deity? Was it truly a living being?

No. A mass of power formed through spells.

Rem knew that. That was why it was possible to call two deities at the same time. Rem did it.

He called Angry Bird into his body and into his axe. The hanging weapon was originally a weapon meant for descent.

’Sky-Dropper.’

He called a third deity. The deity dwelling in the hanging weapon overlapped. The two didn’t fight.

The one handling them split their roles clearly. Just like that, Rem threw his hanging weapon—his axe.

Screee—

A sound like an eagle’s cry spread across the sky as the axe, now a disk, tore through the air.

Pop—

As the air burst along the disk’s flight path, a circular shockwave became visible.

And as Enkrid watched it, Enkrid’s two eyes shone bluer than ever. It was as if he was seeing every change Rem made in real time.

From the outside, all you should have seen was spell power rippling.

But it wasn’t like that for Enkrid.

’I can see it.’