A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

“That’s a good sword.”

Encrid found a sword from the blacksmith.

“Take this too.”

He also received an iron plate breastplate, fastened only with rivets at the sides. It was comfortable as it didn’t hang over the shoulders, but he thought he might need separate shoulder guards.

Encrid noticed a pile of scrap metal in the corner of the forge. There were two more forges within the Border Guard.

Among them, this one had the best craftsmanship.

The Border Guard didn’t have a blacksmith exclusive to the lord, so all three forges had to supply weapons to the barracks.

Now that the war was over and it was time to stockpile supplies, they would make spears, swords, and blunt weapons from scrap metal.

In short, despite being pressed for time, there was an overworked blacksmith in front of him who had taken the time to fix Encrid’s sword.

“Here.”

Ping.

He flipped a gold coin, stacking a few more on top of it.

“Isn’t this a lot?”

“Use the extra to buy flowers for your wife.”

The blacksmith looked at Encrid with hollow eyes. If someone gives you something, just use it—what’s the point of looking?

Recently, Krona had been quite prosperous, and Encrid wasn’t the type to skimp on it.

Krais had pointed out that this was Encrid’s biggest flaw. However, within the platoon, or rather, the entire company, Krais was the only one sensitive about Krona.

Even Finn, who wasn’t particularly frugal, didn’t have a strong sense of money.

Esther, being a panther, wasn’t worth mentioning in this regard.

‘Is it right to consider Esther a member of the unit?’

Well, with the contributions made, what else could be done? Even if Esther couldn’t be formally included in the organization, the panther was still recognized as a comrade.

Anyway, Rem, Ragna, Audin, and Jaxon—didn’t they all spend Krona freely?

That seemed to be the case.

Of course, Encrid was the most extravagant. Whether receiving rewards or plundering treasure vaults, he spent Krona freely once his pockets were full.

It was the same even after leaving the forge.

Ping.

“Take it.”

A gold coin flew through the air, caught by a rough hand. It was John, the tanner.

John was skilled, and some of the merchants passing through the city came specifically to see him. His leatherwork was deserving of the title ‘artisan’, far exceeding the level of a mere craftsman.

This time, he had received a leather bracer from John, which protected from wrist to elbow. Despite wrapping around the arm, it was soft and sturdy.

It was a deep black, secured by pulling a leather strap made of the same material around the bottom. It was clear that much thought had been put into it.

The artisan’s skill was evident everywhere, making it worth a gold coin.

“It’s made from beast-hide treated with oil three times.”

One gold coin wouldn’t be enough.

Ping, one more coin.

“That’s fair.”

John, the artisan, always received fair prices for his work. He was an honest leather craftsman, which is why merchants flocked to him.

Usually, when someone was reputed as an artisan, prices would skyrocket, but not with John.

Anyway, beast-hide was a difficult material to work with. Tanning it required special treatments, which often failed. In the capital, it might be easier to obtain, but out here on the frontier, not so much.

‘Is there anyone else here with something like this?’

It seemed unlikely.

The sword also pleased him. The spirit that had taught him swordsmanship was gone, and the sword, which had been a cursed sword, had now become mere metal.

With a faint blue sheen, the hilt specially polished by the blacksmith, wrapped in deer leather, and a round, sturdy pommel, it was quite satisfactory.

“Take it, I have time left.”

Was it because he hadn’t been to the market in a while?

A shoemaker he had met when he opened the Gate of Sixth Sense approached him and handed over boots. The soles were thicker than before, and the uppers were reinforced with a hard shell.

They didn’t seem like ordinary, hastily made items.

“I made them roughly and couldn’t sell them.”

What was this ridiculous statement?

“Father, just say you want to give them to him.”

The daughter beside him smiled bashfully. It was a refreshing smile.

Encrid flicked a coin again.

Ping!

A gold coin.

The daughter caught it.

“That’s a lot.”

“If there’s extra, use it as you see fit.”

Encrid tossed the coins and, on his way, received plenty of spiced jerky. He also got a couple of bottles of wine. It had a decent taste.

But why did they give him charcoal?

“It’s good charcoal.”

What was he supposed to do with this? Make a charcoal grill?

These were amusing people.

Was this the power of the Gilpin Guild? The city’s darker, stained parts seemed to have been largely erased.

Of course, some stains remained.

For example,

“Peasant, get lost.”

Like this noble bastard.

He was a nobleman with guards, whom Encrid encountered on the street.

Upon seeing Encrid, he intentionally smirked. It was a sneer.

“To think you’re a Company Commander is absurd. I don’t know what trick you played on Marcus, but it was a mistake.”

Hmm, if it were Rem, he might have split this guy’s head with an axe the moment he said that. Or he might have thrown a punch at the word ‘Get lost’.

He could only hope that the noble never spoke such words to Rem.

The guy looked like he could be friends with a ghoul. Slanted eyes and thin lips—it was the face of someone who had lived a life of cunning.

While appearances don’t tell everything, this guy seemed to live a life as unsavory as his looks suggested. There were widespread rumors about him, too.

‘If he met Luagarne, she’d probably be terrified.’

Frogmen are peculiar about appearances, particularly human ones.

Isn’t it an odd trait?

And to think one of them had confessed to being infatuated with him.

“Hmph.”

The nobleman passed by with a guard, heading toward the city gate, likely for some business in the market.

He had always shown a dislike for Encrid, so it was nothing new. Encrid remained indifferent.

Meanwhile, a fruit vendor nearby muttered.

“That bastard, he’ll die from his own poison.”

What a creative insult.

But what was that guy’s name again?

He had heard it before, but it didn’t matter.

He just needed to make sure the noble didn’t run into Rem.

“What’s the superior-abusing thug up to now?”

Encrid hummed as he mumbled to himself, heading back to the unit.

Rem made an abrupt remark.

“Is there anyone like Andrew you could find?”

“Huh?”

“I’ve lost some of my cooking skills lately.”

This was dangerous—it was a sign of Rem’s pent-up frustration.

“Training?”

It was time to quickly extinguish the fire. The training was quite intense, using the Heart of Great Strength recklessly.

“You’re using good bracers.”

Rem noticed the changed equipment. He has good eyes.

“The sword doesn’t seem like an ordinary item either?”

“I picked it up on the way.”

With that casual exchange, they finished their sparring session, and by evening, Encrid’s whole body was aching.

Had he ever pushed himself this hard in training recently?

In any case, thanks to that, Rem’s pent-up frustration was adequately relieved.

“I think I’ll sleep well tonight.”

He had been fretting over whether to become a Knight or not, which was unlike him, but now he seemed fine.

“Yeah, sleep well.”

That evening, as usual, Audin finished his prayers and called for Encrid.

“Company Commander, brother.”

“What?”

“How about going on a night patrol today?”

Audin smiled warmly as he spoke. Despite his large size, he had a gentle smile. Seeing him like this, Encrid thought Audin might be quite the charmer if he set his mind to it.

It became clearer why Krais wanted him in his salon.

“What about becoming a priest who roams the night?”

Krais often prodded him with such suggestions.

Still, Audin just smiled, perhaps finding it not worth responding to.

In any case, Audin seemed to have something to say. If not, it could have just been an invitation for a night stroll.

“Sure.”

Being in an independent company meant they were often exempt from all duties, which made Encrid feel awkward around the barracks.

So this patrol was coincidental and more like a walk.

Audin had something to say, and the night patrol was a good excuse, while Encrid also thought of doing something duty-related at least once.

“There is a saying in the holy scriptures that a day built upon well-paced efforts is more important than a day of overexertion. What this means is…”

A sermon. His usual sermon.

Sometimes, Audin could be very talkative. Especially when it came to sermons and the scriptures.

Did Finn really put up with this?

“How about with Finn?”

He was supposedly pursuing her.

“I’m working on converting the sister.”

Converting someone you’re trying to seduce? It suited Audin, but for a woman, that would be quite humiliating.

Though Finn did always seem cheerful.

“The point is this. It’s better to exercise your body moderately than to overdo it, Company Commander.”

He remembered the change in Encrid’s rank and addressed him accordingly.

Encrid nodded at Audin’s words. He understood. Lately, he had been pushing himself too hard.

How could he describe it?

‘It feels like something is just within reach but not quite.’

Swinging his sword, using the Heart of Great Strength.

As he thought about taking it to the next level, he might have developed a sense of impatience.

Not knowing despair or frustration doesn’t prevent one from feeling rushed. Though he hadn’t been deliberately overexerting himself, how one’s mindset influences their actions and attitude. This, in turn, changes one’s perspective on the world.

It was a good teaching.

“Was that it?”

“It was.”

Encrid’s greatest strength was that he accepted and acknowledged what he thought was right after just a few words.

However…

‘It seems you’ve lost your conscience. For you to be the one talking about this.’

Who was it that claimed breaking through limits daily under the guise of the Isolation Technique?

“When I watch you, it’s not overexertion, it’s just the right amount.”

Encrid spoke with his eyes, but Audin responded with his mouth.

“Lately, it seems like you can read my expressions too well.”

“You make it so obvious.”

Encrid chuckled, and Audin smiled too.

As they moved along the gallery on patrol, a few soldiers they knew saluted them.

“It’s just an irregular patrol. Don’t mind us.”

The city was peaceful. It was safe. No matter what happened around them, these walls would protect them.

‘Did someone say to love the city?’

With the moonlight behind him, he looked out at the city enveloped in darkness. From atop the gallery, the city spread beneath them.

The sounds of summer night insects tickled his ears.

‘I don’t know about love.’

At the very least, he wouldn’t just stand by and watch these people die.

“Protect the weak.”

It’s the first thing mentioned when discussing chivalry.

Some say it’s just an excuse for Knights to wield their power.

‘If you have power and don’t use it properly, you’re just a brute.’

Encrid’s dream was not to be a brute. The moonlight stirred something in him. He didn’t believe he could become a Knight overnight.

There was still a long road ahead.

There was still Will. He still had things to learn.

Before that, he needed time to fully digest what he had already gained.

He hadn’t neglected the things he learned before, even though he had learned new swordsmanship.

‘There’s still room for improvement.’

Encrid judged this himself.

Lost in thought, enchanted by the moonlight, Encrid’s ears perked up.

“There’s something.”

Audin responded too. It happened then. A pungent smell wafted up as something scrambled onto the wall.

“Grrrrrr!”

A beast—no, a magical beast’s roar. It held a power that could shake a person’s core.

“Uh, uh.”

The soldier standing right in front of it froze at the sound.

Even before Encrid could move.

There was a bear crossing the moonlight. A very talented and incredibly fast bear.

It was Audin.

“Grrrr!”

The opponent was a Manticore, a high-level magical beast, also called a demon beast, resembling a lion with a scorpion’s tail and the body of a lion.

Its roar alone could paralyze opponents.

If its scorpion tail brushed against you, you’d be poisoned and sent to the next world.

Even a well-armed company was advised not to fight this beast.

Not all magical beasts were the same.

A Manticore was a monster incomparable to something like a hyena beast.

Such a monster, truly a terrifying monster, was nothing short of a nightmare for ordinary soldiers.

“If you make such a racket at night, you’ll wake people up, kitty.”

Seeing Audin gently soothe such a monster made the Manticore seem to deflate to the level of a mere stray cat.

The Manticore lowered its stance as soon as it saw Audin.

Audin, in a relaxed stance, raised both hands forward. His palms were half-visible, with his thumbs pointing towards himself.

Meanwhile, Encrid grabbed the nape of the frozen soldier and pulled him back.

“Take a deep breath in, and exhale while moving. Start by gradually applying force from the tips of your fingers.”

“Y-Yes!”

A Manticore’s roar alone carried a force that could paralyze its opponents. Encrid murmured instructions on how to counteract this.

One of the soldiers standing guard on the gallery gripped a whistle, ready to blow it at any moment.

“Wait.”

Encrid signaled with his eyes, not wanting to make unnecessary noise and become the Manticore’s target.

Even with a body stiff with fear, the soldier obeyed Encrid’s command.

“Move back.”

Encrid moved the soldier back on the gallery.

The Manticore moved. It dashed forward, cutting through the moonlight and swinging its front paws. It was fast—truly a high-level magical beast.

With a light push off the ground, it left a blurred afterimage. Encrid’s gaze tracked all its movements.

Audin, who was its target, narrowly dodged the front paws and extended his left fist.

‘Ah.’

Encrid was inwardly impressed. It was a perfect dodge followed by a counterattack.

It aligned with some of the swordsmanship techniques he had recently learned.

“When you step back and draw the opponent into your reach, twist your body to create space and strike. This is possible if you anticipate the opponent’s attack.”

Remembering Luagarne’s teachings, Audin’s punch and movements overlapped in Encrid’s mind.

Audin’s punch landed squarely on Manticore’s jaw.

Bang!

The sound echoed clearly, like striking a leather drum.

The creature hit the ground with a flurry, sliding to the side.

Grrrr!

The wounded beast let out a cry filled with pain.

“You, just take your punishment.”

Audin then became like a teacher scolding a child.

The only difference was that his opponent was a high-level magical beast capable of devouring a whole company.

The rest was a mixture of reprimand and a sermon, much like a routine.

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