A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

“Just do that about fifteen more times.”

Rem said nonchalantly.

Encrid looked at him with a blank expression.

“If you do that, your hand will touch the wall, and you’ll be able to go over it.”

There was something unresolved between them. Encrid sensed it, but he was too busy reflecting on what had happened.

One exchange.

He had gained so much from it. He knew it instinctively.

“Good job.”

Encrid said, turning away. He wanted to reflect and ponder. What was contained in that single sparring match, that one exchange of attacks and defenses?

“Brother, you took a hit.” came Audin’s teasing voice from behind, directed at Rem.

“Shall we have lunch with the Lord today, you crazy big guy?”

Rem and Audin’s playful bickering echoed behind him.

Encrid ignored it. These days, even if they fought, they stopped at a reasonable point. They hadn’t exactly become closer, but they maintained a strange balance.

‘How did I cut him?’ he wondered, marveling at the fact that he had left a scratch on Rem’s cheek.

He was more engrossed in analyzing the process than the fact itself.

This wasn’t his first experience like this, so he knew how to reflect and ponder.

It was like a frog trapped in a well that jumps high enough to see outside.

What could he gain from this?

A frog that jumps high once can do it again.

Outside the well, Encrid wanted to face a new world.

Despite leaving on a mission in two days, his focus remained unshaken.

Apart from basic training, he kept pondering and pondering.

He followed the saying, “You see as much as you know.” and felt a sense of inadequacy.

‘Deep gratitude and quick recovery.’

The foundation of the five swords was the Correct Sword Technique.

Was that enough?

He had previously thought about using different weapons.

Knights are said to be adept at handling ten different weapons.

But he couldn’t do that.

Being adept means understanding ten from mastering one.

That requires talent, which he didn’t possess.

So, what should he do?

‘If you can’t learn ten from mastering one…’

What if he learned each one individually?

People often say that repeating daily routines leads to progress, but what if there was a way to walk instead of crawl?

“I must do it.” he murmured to himself.

It was a matter of course.

He had become so engrossed that he didn’t even realize it was already evening. Even during meals or whatever he was doing, one part of his mind was always reflecting and pondering.

The moment he scratched Rem’s cheek.

Encrid felt not satisfaction but a burning desire.

He looked ahead to the path he wanted to take.

That was the result.

Muttering to himself, Encrid got up from his bed and moved.

The lodging was not spacious.

Everyone’s eyes were on him.

Encrid stopped in front of the bed of Frog, who was preparing to sleep. Frog looked up at him from his lying position.

“Do you know the Correct Sword Technique?”

The day of departure was tomorrow.

The lamplight cast long shadows behind them.

Everyone had already washed up in the bathroom.

Finn was the last to return, water dripping from her wet hair.

Esther was grooming her nails in Encrid’s spot, but she paused and looked up.

The deep blue eyes of the panther stared directly at Encrid’s back.

“It’s a specialty.”

Luagarne responded from his lying position.

“Teach me.”

Encrid was eager to learn. He didn’t wait for someone to offer to teach him.

From his perspective, Frog was an excellent instructor.

Aside from using the whip, she was skilled with other weapons as well.

Special techniques or the Correct Sword Technique.

He knew this from the occasional teachings and sparring they had.

He needed guidance that was different from simply observing and mimicking from the sidelines.

Ragna’s northern-style Correct Sword Technique was excellent. The other swordsmanship techniques he shared weren’t bad either.

But Ragna had also learned them by observing from the sidelines.

“I only mimic what I’ve seen once or twice.”

He would often say such things.

The way a genius learns wasn’t enough.

What he felt, as always, was a thirst.

There was something he could learn from Frog that he couldn’t learn from the other platoon members.

Rem? He didn’t have a structured combat style. His fighting was in the realm of intuition and sixth sense.

He had left a scratch on Rem’s cheek during their sparring match.

Underneath the thrill, Encrid saw it.

The appearance that seemed like a demon at that moment.

Was that Rem’s true nature, or was it an illusion created by his own mind and eyes?

He didn’t know.

But if he had a wish.

‘To see it again.’

He wanted to push Rem into such a situation again.

That was his wish.

He didn’t immediately want to break through his limits and realize ‘Will’.

Encrid wasn’t like that.

Years and days spent holding on to fragments of dreams.

If he had learned anything, it was this: to take steps, one at a time, even if crawling.

Even if the steps were slow, moving forward, he could see, feel, and reach them.

Having taken one step forward, he decided to set a small goal.

To see the ‘truth’, whether a ghost or something else, in Rem’s face.

Ideally, in the faces of Audin, Ragna, and Jaxon as well.

“Of course”, Luagarne nodded without hesitation.

Bowing his head, Encrid went to bed.

Tomorrow was the day they were to head to the pioneer village as promised and carry out their mission.

They had to set out on the journey.

It wouldn’t be good to carry fatigue, so they needed to sleep early.

“By the way, I’m suddenly realizing, do you know that if a person is overly indifferent, it can make them seem crazy?”

Rem muttered from his bed. Encrid didn’t respond. Engaging would lead to a long conversation.

Fortunately, Rem fell silent as well. It was just an idle observation.

“Haha, brother, may the Lord’s grace be with you, and please, keep that sanity intact.”

It felt like he was being called a crazy bastard, but a prayer was a prayer, and a blessing was a blessing.

The others remained silent.

The night passed.

The next day arrived.

Encrid set out on the road with a calm demeanor.

They left the city.

Behind him were Luagarne and Krais, and in front of him was Finn.

In his arms was Esther, clinging tightly with her claws digging into his chest, refusing to be let down.

What could he do? He had to bring her along.

“Let’s go.”

Led by Finn, the group followed the road and soon encountered ghouls.

“Already?”

It was an early encounter. For a monster sighting, it was quite close to the city.

Of course, that wasn’t the problem.

There were two ghouls, gray-skinned monsters that craved human flesh and blood.

Encrid drew his sword.

With the same calmness as when he set out that morning, he swung his blade.

Slice, crunch.

The Correct Sword Technique was based on strength.

With one strike, he beheaded one and split its skull.

Black blood and grayish brain matter splattered on the ground.

A few drops of ghoul blood splashed onto Encrid’s body.

“The foundation of the Correct Sword Technique is patience.”

Luagarne said from behind. The journey was also a path of training and discipline.

It was the beginning of a lesson.

* * *

A scab had formed on his cheek.

As he touched it, Rem recalled the first day he saw Encrid.

Or rather, the first day he teased him.

“Want to spar? With me?”

He thought Encrid was something else.

The guy, who had come in as a Squad leader, swung his sword desperately every day and then wanted to spar.

He looked like a third-rate fighter. Or maybe second-rate, in some aspects.

By the standards of the soldier ranking system, he was somewhere between a lower and middle rank.

He was a man with no talent.

“I thought there might be something to learn.”

When Encrid first faced him, what weapon was he using?

He usually used whatever he could get his hands on, but that time it was a sword.

He wielded two swords, one in each hand, just like when he used to wield axes.

It was an easy fight.

Thud.

Tripping over his own feet, Encrid rolled on the ground.

He fell awkwardly, getting a scratch on his face.

Some of it was intentional.

‘Where did they find this pretty boy and make him a Squad leader?’

He wondered what kind of reaction he would get if Encrid’s face got damaged.

He was curious about Encrid’s background. Was he a noble? Or perhaps someone’s relative? Did he have connections in the military?

There was nothing of the sort.

Even with a scratch on his face, Encrid didn’t tend to his wound but got up and said,

“Can we do it again?”

“Again?”

Encrid nodded.

Is he half crazy?

Honestly, Rem had never met anyone more reckless than himself.

He beat him, left knife marks on his neck to scare him, and even cut his forehead to make him bleed.

Blood flowing from the forehead covering the area around the eyes was a unique fear not known to those who haven’t experienced it, seeing the world through a red tint.

Even so, the new Squad leader didn’t back down.

Despite his face being covered in blood, looking almost like a blood ghoul.

“I have a question: what are you going to do if you die from this?”

This was during their sparring. Rem was relaxed, but Encrid was not.

The madman, who had been attacking relentlessly throughout the changing seasons, caught his breath and replied,

“Then that would be the end of it.”

Is this guy completely insane?

That’s the end?

It can’t just end like that.

“You’re in bad shape.”

Rem said, and that day, he taught him the Heart of the Beast. If he was ready to face death, then maybe, just maybe, he would gain something.

It was futile.

He didn’t have the temperament to learn the Heart of the Beast. If pushed, he would close his eyes, unable to find the courage.

Even when he opened his eyes, he couldn’t see clearly. His body froze at dangerous moments.

“Truly talentless.” Rem found himself saying.

Still, the position of Squad leader, which had frequently changed hands, did not change.

He survived. Steadfastly.

Was sparring with him enjoyable?

Well, it was just something to do.

He wasn’t some great person in Rem’s life.

Rem also liked women, so there weren’t any strange feelings.

It was just that watching him felt moderately pleasant.

Like bright sunshine, or watching animals running across a dry meadow, it was just nice to see.

‘He’ll die like that.’ he thought.

Seeing him struggling on the battlefield, Rem found himself lending a hand.

At least he didn’t want to see him die right in front of him.

The sparring continued.

Time passed.

“How did you do that?”

Encrid had adopted the Heart of the Beast technique.

He began to change after that day.

His skills improved. Sometimes noticeably, almost abruptly.

Other times, progress was so slow it seemed doubtful.

Within this flow, did Encrid change?

No, he remained the same.

Still, just as he was at the beginning.

“Sparring?”

His words had become shorter since they first met.

He had also become adept at turning people’s words against them.

Nevertheless, the sparring continued.

He had a scratch on his cheek. A scab had formed.

Haha, Encrid? That Squad leader?

Rem felt he had to show his true skills. He almost revealed techniques he had kept hidden.

No, this wasn’t right.

It was a personal desire, but it wasn’t time yet. Rem needed to continue playing above Encrid.

He wanted to keep having fun for a bit longer.

If it wasn’t like this, it wouldn’t be enough. If he were caught up to, if he had to fight seriously, it wouldn’t be fun.

To tease and spar, he couldn’t fall behind.

Not even for a moment should he be caught up to.

The scratch on his cheek, in that moment, even if it was just by a fraction.

He had been caught up to.

It didn’t sit well with him. It made him anxious.

Moreover, the question Krais had posed on the battlefield still lingered in his mind.

“Can you handle a Knight?”

“If they come at me, I can kill them.”

He answered seriously because the question was serious.

There was a strange intensity he sensed even from this big-eyed guy.

An intriguing guy. That unusually clever fellow nodded.

It meant he understood, even with a vague explanation.

He could kill, but if he worried about what came next, the odds were about fifty-fifty?

Honestly, the chance of winning might be about three to four out of ten?

After that question, Krais seemed to decide to avoid direct confrontation with the enemy’s forces.

The battlefield had flowed that way, hadn’t it? Most likely.

It slightly bruised his pride.

“Lazy bum with a short appetite.”

That was why he didn’t join the others.

There was something to be done here.

Maybe that idiot was similar to him.

Ragna lifted his head slightly at Rem’s words. He was half-leaning against the wall of the quarters.

“Want to put half your life on the line and spar?”

He spoke in his usual playful tone, but there was seriousness in it.

“…Let’s do it.”

Ragna stood up. The lazy one had changed too. Despite Encrid’s absence, there was something like a spark in his eyes.

Rem headed to the training ground without a hint of a smile.

“Big guy, you can come along too.”

On the way, he called Audin as well.

“Haha, the Lord calls.”

Audin stood up with a smile.

They left the sly alley cat alone. After all, he wasn’t particularly suited for frontal combat.

‘If needed, he’ll come.’

That guy wouldn’t come just because he was called.

More importantly, he was truly a cunning one.

Rem himself was a former hunter.

That guy was like a relentless night hunter or a human hunter.

On one side of the training ground, Rem picked up an axe.

With a ting, he clashed the two axe blades together, taking his stance.

“Don’t hold a grudge if you die.”

Ragna, who stood opposite him, said.

“Look who’s talking.”

Soon they began to move.

All the soldiers who had been training around them stopped to watch.

Bang! Thud! Crack!

The heavy sounds of the clashes echoed.

It was a sparring match where they took turns, and the intensity made everyone gasp in awe.

“I want to join in too.”

The Fairy Company Commander interjected.

“You’re ready to put half your life on the line?”

Rem questioned, to which the Commander smiled and drew her sword.

Blades, resembling leaves, reflected the light.

It was a declaration of intent.

She showed that her skills were on par with theirs.

They fit in. Without needing to say it, they knew they were all of the same mind.

When you share swords and exchange punches, things become clear.

‘Not yet.’

Not really, not yet. Even if it felt like the mischievous heart of an eight-year-old wanting to maintain a lead over Encrid.

They had decided to be present in the moment.

Fighting with half a life at stake was the start of change and acceleration.

All four were recognized as geniuses.

They were all refining their skills.

But it wasn’t just about refining.

Rem honed Ragna, Ragna honed Rem, and Audin joined in, with Jaxon occasionally jumping in.

The Fairy Company Commander joined them in rotation.

Whenever things got too serious, the rest would jump in to balance and lighten the mood.

They had been honing their talents, and there was more and more to show Encrid when he returned.

* * *

Meanwhile, Encrid was traveling a path rougher than he had expected.

“Kaaargh!”

A horde of beasts appeared one after another.

Well, it was somewhat enjoyable.

For Encrid, it was both an opportunity for training and a testing ground.

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