A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

Valen Mercenary Sword Technique, close-range attack.

Headbutt.

Encrid was surprised. No, he was shocked, but the path he had walked so far had been too rough for him to be taken down by such a blow.

As the Sense of Evasion activated, his body moved instinctively.

He dodged by tilting his head and immediately tripped his opponent.

With a thud, the White Lion rolled forward as Encrid’s sword swished through the spot where she had fallen.

If the White Lion had stayed there, she would have been left with a scar somewhere on his body, but she avoided it by rolling forward.

Her reaction speed and judgment were excellent.

Encrid naturally increased his speed.

He stepped forward and swung his sword.

He also adjusted his reaction speed.

The tempo itself changed.

This was the most significant change in Encrid recently.

The diagonal slash, twice as fast as any sword he had swung before, extended even from a twisted posture.

Dunbachel clenched her teeth.

It was an angle she couldn’t avoid.

She raised her elbow.

Clang! Crack! Swish!

She tried to block the blade with her elbow bone, but her opponent noticed and twisted the blade.

So, the blade that was aiming downwards suddenly turned sideways, and Dunbachel ended up hitting the blade with her elbow.

Even so, her unique beast-like reflexes weren’t dead, she managed to parry the blade, though part of her elbow was cut.

“You managed to do that?”

A low voice was heard.

Sharp and clear.

Above all, it was close.

Dunbachel had thought she could withstand more if she transformed into her beast form.

But that was far from the truth.

The sword that had approached was already descending towards her head.

To be honest, she didn’t even know how the opponent had closed the distance and swung the sword so quickly.

She was struggling to block and dodge.

Dunbachel, feeling the pain of her arm muscles tearing, raised her scimitar.

Even if she was ready to die, she couldn’t die as anything less than a warrior.

She wanted to reach the sanctuary where their God resided after death.

‘Krimhalt.’

Dunbachel muttered the name of her God.

The name of the God that all beastmen believed in, said to govern war and reproduction. The only God of the beastmen.

Do you want to be embraced by Krimhalt?

Die as a warrior.

If you die as a warrior, you will live as Krimhalt’s sword in the eternal vortex.

Clang! Clang clang clang clang!

The sword meeting her scimitar sparked, as if red sparks illuminated the surroundings through the moonlight.

In a very brief moment, Dunbachel aimed at where her opponent’s foot might be, using the Valen Mercenary Sword Technique to kick at his ankle.

It was a technique where she pretended to aim with her weapon while casually targeting the opponent’s ankle.

It was a calculated move, but her opponent blocked it by lifting his foot.

Then the sword came down toward the back of her neck.

Thud. Feeling the cold touch, Dunbachel thought of the end.

‘Will I be able to go to Krimhalt’s side?’

As death approached, random thoughts suddenly intruded. Why wouldn’t they?

People who have lived their lives trembling with resentment are naturally filled with regrets.

She had been abandoned by her village, rejected by the city, and even among the beastmen, no one easily accepted her.

She had lived as someone discarded by her own kind.

She tried to prove herself as a mercenary, by the sword, but that too was not an easy task.

She thought it was the only path, but even that was blocked.

It was frustrating not being able to have children.

It was unfair to be born this way.

‘Why only me?’

Why did she have to live such a life?

Resentment quickly turned into a desire for life.

Regret pulled her back, and anger pounded in her heart.

Encrid, who had just pressed his sword to her nape, stopped, feeling something strange.

It was just a hunch, a sixth sense.

A sense that it might be better not to kill her.

Adding a rational thought to it:

‘I could use a mouth to speak about affiliations and who sent them.’

Initially, she seemed eager to die, but when the sword paused against her neck, her body began to tremble.

Encrid noticed the White Lion’s fur trembling.

It showed signs of fear and frustration.

The beastman planted her hands on the ground and pulled her hind legs in, curling up her body.

‘It looks like Esther’s posture when she’s tired.’

Oddly similar, he thought.

“Do you want to live?”

He asked abruptly.

Dunbachel, with the sword still on her neck, lifted her head.

Were her eyes always this blue?

Tears flowed freely from her eyes, which had a faint golden hue.

‘…Crying here?’

It was, of course, an unexpected moment.

“Sniff, sniff.”

The beastman cried. While it was hard to pinpoint the change inside her, one thing seemed clear.

‘It sounds like she’s asking to be spared.’

Encrid withdrew his sword, and immediately a familiar voice reached his ears.

“What? Not killing her? Yawn.”

It was Rem, speaking while yawning so wide that it seemed his mouth might tear open.

“When did you get here?”

“I arrived just when you started fighting with that beast. But is this a lycanthrope or a beastman?”

Its appearance was close to that of a lycanthrope, but there were no monsters that would cry like that after losing a fight.

“Hey, are you a crybaby?”

Rem slapped the back of the White Lion’s head. It was just like usual, with a teasing posture.

He squatted down and poked her head, then slapped the back of her head again with his palm.

“Stop crying, he said he wouldn’t kill you.”

It wasn’t just Rem who had come.

Audin, Jaxon, Ragna, and Krais had also arrived below.

“What’s going on here in the middle of the night?”

Krais asked.

“Was it too noisy?”

Encrid asked back, and Jaxon pointed to the side as he answered.

“Esther called us.”

He spoke in his usual dry tone. However, Encrid sensed something subtly different in it.

Admiration? Something similar.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Did you see the fight?”

Jaxon nodded and then closed his mouth. In fact, he had arrived even before Rem and saw everything.

With an even more detailed and thorough gaze than Audin.

A first-rate eye recognizes first-rate skills.

So, he was inwardly impressed.

Even knowing Encrid’s capabilities, seeing him showcase his improved skills felt almost like witnessing something magical.

Were the others not surprised as well?

“How did you execute that move at the end?”

Ragna asked.

“I mixed the new sword techniques I’ve learned with the Valen Mercenary Sword Technique.”

At those words, Ragna’s expression became subtle.

“Did Frog teach you?”

“Huh?”

No, Luagarne had told him to learn various sword techniques. Mixing them like that was just something he naturally tried.

At that moment, it just felt right.

Reflecting on that moment, Encrid wondered why he had done it.

‘Why did I do that?’

He did it because he thought it was the necessary move at that moment.

So, was that wrong?

No. It didn’t feel wrong.

She was an opponent below his level. He approached it as if testing the new sword he had received.

It remained to be seen where they came from, but…

‘At least elite level of the Border Guard Unit.’

The Border Guard Unit was composed entirely of top-tier soldiers.

Among them, the elites were particularly skilled.

There were rumors that one of the guards, who had been absent on some mission, was previously considered the strongest swordsman in the Border Guard.

So, the massacre Encrid had caused was roughly equivalent to facing ten elites of the Border Guard.

And the last beastman was even better than them.

When did he become able to see them in this light?

He didn’t know. Really.

‘I still have a long way to go.’

Despite this, a thirst still burned within him. He couldn’t be satisfied here. No, he couldn’t allow himself to be satisfied.

What if that Junior-Knight had been here?

Asia, the woman whose name he could never forget.

‘It would’ve been easier than this.’

There was no end to learning, no matter the battle or the moment. Encrid had known this since childhood.

Even though his body sometimes couldn’t keep up with his learning, Encrid’s attitude was always right.

He constantly sought knowledge and never stopped.

“Where are you affiliated?”

Just as he was organizing his thoughts, Krais spoke up from behind Rem.

He didn’t stand close to the beastman, just opened his mouth.

In front of him, Rem was grinning and talking, and using his hands as well.

He tapped her on the head and touched her shoulder, specifically where she was cut by the sword.

“Does it hurt? It doesn’t hurt me.”

“Hey, are you a crybaby? A beastman crybaby?”

“Why do you look like that? Did you eat curses instead of meat as a child?”

“This is the first time I’ve seen a lion cry. Keep crying. Want me to dig into the wound? It’ll make it easier to cry if it hurts more, right?”

“Come on, cry more.”

Encrid suddenly realized that Rem was truly the nastiest person in the world.

If provocation were needed on the battlefield, he would put that guy in front.

While Encrid used his words to gauge the opponent’s intentions, Rem seemed possessed by an evil spirit, just spewing insults.

“Why is this bastard marking his territory in the middle of the night, huh? Did I have to come out in the middle of my sleep because of that?”

Rem said, and there were two errors in his statement.

One, crying wasn’t marking territory.

Two, no one had called for Rem.

‘Why did he come out?’

As Encrid was about to move, the White Lion, unable to hold back any longer, raised her head.

Her tearful eyes now showed something akin to anger.

To be precise, it seemed more like frustration.

“Goddamn it, what kind of bastard…”

The frustrated outburst of the White Lion was abruptly cut off.

Whack! Crack!

Rem was relentless. Sitting, he moved his left foot to the side and swung his right elbow horizontally.

It was a strike delivered with a twist of his waist.

In any other situation, one might have admired the perfect striking posture he achieved from a sitting position.

“Impressive.”

Even Audin expressed admiration.

In any case, the elbow struck the back of the White Lion’s head.

She rolled forward from the blow.

“Ugh!”

A groan-like sound escaped the rolling White Lion’s mouth.

“Wait, let’s talk for a moment.”

Krais intervened to stop Rem.

Encrid had to side with Krais.

If they left him alone, he seemed ready to beat her to death.

“This damn cat, hissing at me.”

Seeing Rem’s grumpy face, it was clear he was capable of doing just that.

“Don’t kill her.”

As he was gently restrained, Rem raised both his hands.

“No, I was just nudging her a bit. Just a little nudge, like waving hello, right?”

If he greeted someone twice, he’d probably kill a few people.

“So, where are you from?”

The White Lion, who had been crying after being hit, mocked, and then expressing her frustration, resigned herself.

She wanted to live and felt wronged, but honestly, she had no loyalty worth protecting.

She hadn’t sought the notoriety she’d gained in the mercenary world.

That was something she could afford to lose.

She hadn’t hidden any treasure from the thieves’ group or anything like that.

She had spent everything she earned.

Thus, Dunbachel’s mouth opened easily.

“Black Blade.”

“The bandits? You’re talking about them, right?”

“Yes.”

As Dunbachel nodded, Krais’s expression hardened.

“Well, this is a problem.”

Encrid had been listening quietly.

They had stopped it by coincidence, but he couldn’t know what was behind this incident.

Battalion Commander Marcus had asked if he loved the city.

In a moment like this, he had managed to protect it, so it seemed like a pretty good outcome, which was satisfying.

However, something still troubled him.

‘Weak.’

Wasn’t the defensive force too inadequate?

It might be partly because his standards had risen, but if another attack like this happened, wouldn’t it be a problem?

If similar raids occurred, the patrolling forces would be killed without being able to resist.

Most concerning was that someone in soldier’s attire had tried to open the side gate.

It was inevitable that there would be spies in the city, but openly opening a gate was a serious issue.

Since it happened right before his eyes, Encrid felt compelled to do something about it, but there wasn’t much he could do at the moment.

“Captain, we need to make a report.”

Krais approached and spoke.

Rem, seeing this, asked, “Are you really going to keep her alive?”

“We have to keep her alive.”

Krais said urgently. It seemed he believed Rem might actually cut her throat if left alone.

Encrid nodded. He reinforced Krais’s words with a nod and added, “Escort her.”

For now, just capturing her would suffice. The rest would be up to the Battalion Commander.

As he moved with that thought, he noticed a group of soldiers who had been watching the scene.

Turning around, he made eye contact with an officer.

The officer had an insignia on his uniform. As soon as their eyes met, the officer saluted.

He was a Platoon leader, a familiar face from passing by.

Though Encrid held the rank of Company Commander, he had not yet been officially recognized as such.

Therefore, this was the first time he received a formal salute like this.

Encrid sheathed his sword and acknowledged the salute with a tap on the pommel with his palm.

“Thanks to you!”

“That’s enough.”

He replied, turning away. The Platoon leader, who had been shocked earlier, was now moved with gratitude.

If not for Encrid…

If not for that Madmen Platoon, or rather, company…

He would have died like the attackers.

He would have been a cold corpse, leaving behind his wife.

It wasn’t just himself, several of his subordinates, whom he thought of as brothers, would have died too.

While he was lost in thought, Krais approached and spoke quietly.

“The matter of the Black Blade is confidential.”

“…Understood.”

At this point, Encrid was willing to listen to anything.

“We will handle the report.”

Krais continued, as he busied himself with cleaning up around the corpses.

Encrid wondered why, but then Krais added, “It would be appropriate for our company to claim the spoils, don’t you think?”

His eyes shone, and his demeanor was confident.

He was right, of course.

The Platoon leader ordered his subordinates to transport the manticore’s carcass and search the bodies of the dead.

There were no bags of Krona, but all the weapons were of high-quality steel.

This meant they stood to gain a significant amount.

And Krais was not one to miss such an opportunity.

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