A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

The bird sings.

The wind blows.

The summer sky, accompanied by the splendid sun, soon brings forth the heat.

Encrid felt the heat both outside and within.

For the past three months, rumors had spread of peace on the surface and war brewing in the background.

In the end, Aspen took a step back.

There was no war. No battle.

So, what would those left in the barracks do?

Training and rest were all there was.

Many went on assignments through the mercenary system.

Encrid had no shortage of Krona.

His two swords were in good condition.

Krais consistently handed over the Krona earned through the guild.

Thus, most of his time was spent on training.

Despite that, progress was slow. At least, it seemed so in the eyes of others. The word ‘stagnation’ was often mentioned.

Stagnation means stopping.

Everyone thought Encrid was stagnant.

But he himself thought differently.

Why wouldn’t he?

‘Will.’

What had been Encrid’s dream until now?

It was a ghost he couldn’t grasp.

It was an unseen darkness.

Because he couldn’t catch or see it, it was a sky he couldn’t reach.

He saw, heard, and created the stairs leading to that sky.

These are called milestones.

For Encrid, Will was such a thing. It was a stairway and a milestone.

The same goes for the words to break his limits.

Stagnation? No.

Because his former self and his current self were utterly different, he was not stagnant.

Even if it appeared stagnant to others.

Encrid could see the results of his growth.

What was the reason he could become like this?

It was thanks to what he had ingrained and practiced all this time.

Starting with the Heart of the Beast, the Sense of the Blade, Focus Point, and the Isolation Technique.

‘If there’s a foundation in swordsmanship.’

Could there be a foundation in creating talent as well?

He didn’t know. But wasn’t that exactly what was happening in his body right now?

Through Focus Point, sometimes using the Heart of the Beast, or sometimes sharpening the edge of his senses.

He revisited and revisited his experiences.

For the past three months, that was what Encrid did.

There were soldiers seeking him.

He felt the reality of the saying that one improves by learning.

“Let’s have a match.”

1st Company, Border Patrol.

Both units were among the skilled groups within the Border Guard Reserve Unit.

At first, even ordinary soldiers often came.

Now, unless they were from this unit, no one came.

Sparring was always welcome.

“Sure.”

Encrid greeted them calmly.

Soon, two men were sweating as they exchanged their skills.

Encrid won every time.

What had changed from before was that now he fought without using grappling techniques, focusing instead on basic skills, excluding the Valen Mercenary Sword Technique. That was enough.

When fighting with Rem and the other platoon members, he used everything he had, but not with these soldiers. There was no need.

From what he had learned, sometimes he saw soldiers who struggled.

Those who, while trying to learn and master various things at once, lost focus on the basics.

“It’s efficient, isn’t it? This is.”

They would often respond this way when he pointed out the issues.

He had thought the same thing before.

An efficient and rational combat method.

He still used it a lot.

But that was a combat method, not a training method.

For today’s repetition, he had tried to learn and internalize as much as possible.

So, did anything come easily?

Even now, he couldn’t use the Sense of Evasion properly.

The Heart of the Beast required preparation time.

Even Focus Point was difficult to activate unless his life was on the line.

It was a realization he came to after countless thoughts and deliberations.

‘Start with what I can do now.’

He moved forward. And moved forward again.

With that mindset, he continued the endless repetition. Sometimes, a ferryman appeared in his dreams, asking, “What kind of person are you?”

For three months, it was just training. As in Encrid’s life, this time was no different. Repeating and repeating.

Living a week like today, a month like today.

Through this, he realized something new.

‘Rhythm.’

It’s something necessary when swinging a sword.

For geniuses, like Ragna, things that passed by quickly were, for Encrid, stepping stones to be carefully considered and climbed, step by step.

When he realized something in the morning, he felt like he was flying all day.

If he realized it in the evening, he felt joyful even until bedtime.

Ka-aa.

Esther followed Encrid as if cheering for him.

Esther, who used to cling to him even at night, now stuck close even during the day.

“You’re popular even with animals.”

Frog said this much.

Esther raised her claws towards Frog but never actually fought with him.

Every other day, the Fairy Company Commander visited.

“Would autumn be a good time? For the engagement?”

She would joke.

“Shall we spar?”

She would leave after exchanging swords.

The Fairy’s sword was sharp and light, teaching him new things.

Teaching and learning, learning through sparring.

“Come on, block this.”

Rem’s axe swing was still fierce and rough, but there was something different from before.

A slight smile appeared on their faces.

“Eek!”

Sometimes it was surprising.

The sword swung upward from below, while the left hand’s sword thrust in an off-beat manner.

The timing of the slash and thrust was subtly different, causing a dissonance in the rhythm.

Both hands moved to different rhythms simultaneously.

This was the Valen Mercenary Sword Technique, known as the Crossed Blades.

The illusion of swords, a technique often considered underhanded even among the Valen Mercenary Sword Techniques, was rarely genuine.

It created the appearance that the sword in the right hand and the sword in the left were moving independently.

“That was quite good just now.”

Rem said.

Recognition, and it was a joy.

“If you neglect martial arts, the Lord will be angry.”

No, learning Valaf-Style Martial Arts doesn’t involve any divine wrath.

Though it was nonsense, Encrid mingled with Audin without a word.

Valaf-Style Martial Arts combined striking and grappling techniques.

Didn’t Encrid mix grappling techniques into the Valen Mercenary Sword Technique brawl to kill Mitch Hurrier?

He learned and acquired knowledge.

It was the joy of learning.

Receiving recognition, learning, and in turn, teaching others.

That’s how one grows.

The joy of growth spurred him on.

Swinging his sword became an enjoyment.

‘Step by step, even if it’s just half a step, even if it’s crawling.’

It was the beginner’s mindset. Just as he had intended from the beginning.

What seemed so easy for Encrid.

It was something quite extraordinary to someone else.

Especially for Frog, who was watching.

Of course, Encrid was more focused on reflecting on himself today rather than the eyes around him.

In between, he diligently worked on honing his dynamic vision and sensory training, living busily more than anyone else.

Only a few of the soldiers who initially followed Encrid into repeated training remained committed to the training.

Whether it was due to the lack of discipline after the battle, or if it was just human nature.

As more soldiers idled around, fewer remained dedicated to training.

Yet, there were still those who stayed.

Some stood out.

Excluding these, the best sparring partners were the Border Patrol.

Sometimes, he would even visit them to spar with swords.

“Always welcome.”

The captain of the patrol always welcomed Encrid.

He sparred with him and mingled with others, but Torres, who was familiar to him, shook his head.

“I’m not fighting you anymore.”

“Why?”

“Hey, it’s no good fighting a losing battle.”

The Soldier Ranking System.

This is what people talk about when discussing elite soldiers.

Among them, some rekindled their competitive spirit, but Encrid had already gone a step further than them.

Three months—time always felt like an arrow shot forward.

But for Encrid, it was a day. It was today. It was a process of moving towards tomorrow.

“Rhythm isn’t just one thing. Didn’t you already know that?”

Perhaps they thought it couldn’t be understood just by watching.

Or maybe they were getting bored of staying here.

Frog and Luagarne also started teaching Encrid.

“I was just about to say that.”

Ragna, who was watching, muttered, but it was exactly the right thing to say at that moment.

Rhythm, timing.

That’s right. It doesn’t have to be just one.

Hadn’t he already learned that through the Valen Mercenary Sword Technique?

The Crossed Blades technique was a dual attack that used off-beat timing.

There were long, drawn-out rhythms in a single breath.

There were also short and firm rhythms.

And there were rhythms where one had to endure while keeping their core tight.

That’s how he learned.

“Change the timing from regular to irregular, and do that in one step. No, right now, take your left foot half a step forward. Then you can do the middle-cut spinning slash.”

Luagarne was quite enthusiastic.

Why did Frog stay by his side?

Why was he staying here, eating and sleeping in this place?

Why was he teaching him?

He set aside all these questions. Or rather, he decided to forget them.

If they teach, he learns. Always eager to learn, Encrid did just that.

“Then, what if I pull my right foot back from here?”

“That makes it difficult to recover your sword. In that case, do it like this instead.”

Ragna also stepped in.

It was unclear how things had come to be this way, but everyone seemed more enthusiastic than before.

“No, you can do it like this too.”

Rem joined in.

It was a step where he twisted his body and maintained balance on his toes.

The sword swung according to the situation, the feet moved, and the eyes reacted.

“Broaden your senses. Haven’t you already learned this?”

Jaxon’s advice interjected.

That’s right, he had already learned.

Hadn’t he expanded his sensory range while facing lycanthropes?

Instead of just looking forward, he saw everything. He spread his senses outward, centering on himself.

“Platoon Leader, every movement has a center. It’s the same in both martial arts and swordsmanship. It’s important to find the centerline and connect it to your opponent.”

Audin’s teaching added to this.

Everyone had become more passionate than before.

For Encrid, all of this brought joy.

“There is an advantage.”

This was Frog’s conclusion after observing everything.

“What advantage?”

Rem stood beside him and asked. They were still in the training ground, under the hot sun, sweating, and smelling the stench of sweat on this very day.

“Once he learns something, he doesn’t let it go.”

Rem nodded. It was true. Encrid was a slow learner. There were even rumors calling him a late-blooming genius.

‘I’m not sure about that.’

But one thing was certain.

He never forgot what he learned. He endlessly pondered. He always wanted to learn, somehow.

How to apply what he learned.

How to implement it.

In what way to use it.

He pondered endlessly. It was visible.

That was also an advantage.

Rem thought, and Frog, by this point, was reflecting on what exactly he was doing.

‘Is it his face that’s captivating?’

Or maybe it was his nature.

Teaching someone who doesn’t show talent and paving the way for them—how inefficient.

But he didn’t mind. Frog was driven by desires and ambitions.

Luagarne also knew he couldn’t be free from such things.

Of course, there were things beyond desire. Specifically, to avoid being overly controlled by desire, he made a covenant. A covenant was a promise, a vow that had to be kept, and for Frog, it was binding.

‘I need to return eventually.’

Frog thought this but continued teaching Encrid.

Despite learning and practicing diligently for three months, progress seemed slow. At least to Frog.

Between Frog’s observations and the platoon members’ teachings, Encrid was reviewing the rhythm and re-embedding various techniques into his body.

It felt like nearing perfection, or rather, approaching the limits. Of course, in reality, that was far from the truth, but since he didn’t even understand what reaching his limits meant, it felt like that.

During this time:

“You’re being called.”

The Fairy Company Commander came to fetch him.

“Yes.”

Encrid, drenched in sweat, followed her.

Sweat also beaded on the Fairy Company Commander’s forehead. It was that hot of a day. The humidity was high.

It seemed like it might rain soon.

Based on experience, it would probably rain within a day or two.

“You’re here?”

The place they were called to was the Battalion Commander’s office.

“There’s a request, what do you think?”

The mercenary system allowed soldiers to take on requests voluntarily, but sometimes orders came from above.

It was rare, but when a few regular soldiers couldn’t handle a situation, a platoon or company-level force would be dispatched.

According to Krais, there had been disturbances caused by monsters and beasts within the Kingdom recently.

There was always a tendency for such disturbances to increase as summer approached, but this year seemed particularly bad.

‘The summer heat promotes the proliferation of monsters and beasts.’

This was a well-known saying on the continent. This was one of those situations.

“We’d like to give you temporary command of a nearby pioneer village to handle the situation.”

The Battalion Commander said.

Because the spring battlefield had ended early, this summer, they were spending time in the city rather than on the battlefield, which was rare.

During this time, Encrid had stayed only in the training grounds and the barracks.

He hadn’t even gone to the market once.

It was because he was engrossed in the joy of progressing on his path with the sword.

“If you don’t want to go, you can decline, and if you need time, you can think it over and let me know.”

The Battalion Commander looked somewhat fatigued. Did he have a lot of work to handle? Perhaps he hadn’t slept well, but it seemed more likely that he was just overworked.

The abundance of documents around him suggested as much.

“Yes, sir.”

Encrid saluted and turned to leave.

As he stepped outside, the Fairy Company Commander looked at him with a peculiar expression.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Would she make another offhand comment?

“I just realized I might have chosen the right man.”

Of course, it was a typical Fairy-style joke.

“Is that so?”

After the casual joke, Encrid returned to the barracks, where Krais, who had been particularly busy lately, was inside.

When he briefly explained the situation and showed the orders,

“We’re going, we’re definitely going! We have to go! It’s an order!”

Krais said with bright eyes.

At times like this, it meant there was Krona involved.

Krais’s reaction suggested that.

The order contained the location of the village and a rough estimate of the colony’s size. It mentioned disturbances caused by a group of monsters.

Upon seeing the location and ignoring the monster group, Krais’s eyes lit up.

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