A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

Whenever he looked at Encrid, he found himself clenching his fists without realizing it.

Most of the soldiers felt something similar when they saw Encrid.

They knew he had clawed his way up from the bottom.

They had seen firsthand how hard work was rewarded.

Seeing Encrid, Vengeance and the group of soldiers clenched their fists. In their hands, they held spears, swords, and maces.

The soldiers gathered and wielded their weapons.

An unusual fervor reignited the barracks.

“These days, the soldiers seem more diligent than before. Why are they suddenly like this?”

The atmosphere was different from usual.

Encrid, sensing the change, commented.

Krais, hearing this, scoffed.

“Are you asking because you don’t know?”

Would he ask if he knew?

“The market’s atmosphere isn’t great, so I’ll go check it out.”

Without answering, Krais left. Well, enthusiasm and passion were words Encrid liked. The reason didn’t matter.

Training hard would help them all survive.

As a result…

“Let’s have a sparring match!”

There were more people coming to him like this. It wasn’t the first time this had happened, and Encrid welcomed those who sought him out.

The only difference was…

Thud, clack.

All the fights ended in one or two moves.

There was no point in fighting if it wasn’t a challenge.

Gaps were too obvious, and his body responded instinctively.

When a blade came down, there was no need to counter with a training sword, just pushing it away was enough.

The new sword technique he learned was based on the Correct Sword Technique.

He would sidestep to the left and swing his sword to the right, creating a blind spot in the opponent’s vision.

Humans feel uneasy when they can’t see something, so they quickly turn to eliminate blind spots.

In that moment, he would strike back.

It was a simple two-move action, but it worked well even against the Border Guard’s level.

“You’re different.”

Even with a blunt sword, getting hit properly made Torres’ stomach ache. Holding his abdomen, Torres mumbled.

No, it wasn’t just different.

A Quasi-Knight? He seemed to be at that level.

How did his skills improve so much?

The ‘Border Guards’ was made up of those who challenged the limits of humanity.

It was a group with a variety of techniques and swordsmanship.

Torres was part of this Guard and had been watching Encrid closely.

‘This guy might really become a Knight.’

There was a time when saying you’d become a Knight was mocked as a faded dream.

Now, even in the eyes of others, Encrid’s dream didn’t seem so unrealistic.

“Shouldn’t I add ‘sir’ when addressing you as Company Commander? Soldier? Torres?”

“Huh?”

“Me, I’m temporarily a Company Commander.”

Encrid said, pointing at himself with his thumb.

“…Company Commander, sir.”

“I’m joking.”

“You bastard.”

Torres laughed as he spoke.

Rank was rank, but relationships were relationships.

There was no need to maintain a hierarchical relationship with Torres or Vengeance. They weren’t his direct superiors.

The Border Guard Reserve Unit had a rather loose hierarchy.

In the capital’s garrison, misreading a rank could get you beaten to death, but there was there, and this was here.

“You seem to be becoming like the 4th Company Commander.”

Torres’s words made Encrid think deeply.

That Fairy-like joke?

“Hah, anyway, I’m off.”

Even after Torres left, several members of the Border Guard Unit requested sparring sessions. Encrid had no reason to refuse.

In the morning, after waking up, he practiced the Isolation Technique and swordsmanship.

After finishing lunch…

“Shall we have a bout?”

Rem challenged him. He was still formidable. If he fully activated the Heart of Great Strength, perhaps he could almost reach the mark.

‘If I overdo it, I won’t be able to complete the afternoon training schedule.’

He had already paid the price a few times for getting carried away.

Encrid regulated himself. This was training, not a real fight.

Rem also regulated himself.

Unlike before, he didn’t aim to split heads, that wasn’t his intention either.

After finishing the lunchtime sparring, familiar faces appeared one by one.

“Can you check my skills too?”

Vengeance often came by as well, asking for thorough instruction. Encrid, believing in the adage that teaching is learning, didn’t refuse.

“But what’s with the title?”

He couldn’t forget the joke.

“Are you becoming like the Fairy Company Commander?”

It was the same thing Torres had said.

This, well, it was subtly annoying.

The weather had been good for days. Except for a brief rain on the third day after returning, it had been sunny.

“It’s a good day, perfect for training.”

“You said the same thing on a rainy day. Is there ever a bad day for training, Commander?”

As he muttered about the sunny day, Rem asked from behind.

Encrid thought for a moment and answered.

“There isn’t.”

“…Maybe if you get hit on the head one more time, you’ll go back to normal. The Fairy Company Commander hasn’t given up on you, you can still become a normal person!”

Rem shouted passionately. Encrid, who scolded him to wipe the sleep out of his eyes, continued his usual routine.

The next day it rained, but the schedule was the same.

It was a day copied and pasted from the previous day.

There were many eyes in the barracks watching him.

How should I put it? It didn’t even seem boring anymore.

Rain or shine, he was originally that kind of person.

Even though his skills had improved, and he had become a Company Commander, nothing had changed.

In other words, Encrid was still Encrid.

Two weeks after his return.

On another fine day, after the lunchtime sparring, Rem wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve and sat on the ground.

“The apple cider was delicious.”

Rem casually said this, but it caught Encrid’s attention. It was intuition or a sixth sense.

It seemed like Rem had something to say but was beating around the bush.

Rem, beating around the bush?

It was so unusual that Encrid remained silent, waiting for Rem to speak.

“If you have any left, sneak me some.”

There wasn’t any. All that was left was a little for emergencies, just enough for himself.

He had told them to sip it, but Rem had gulped it down.

Even Ragna had rarely left praise for the drink.

Everyone had said they enjoyed it.

Jaxon had a couple of sips, and Audin drank about five sips.

But the fact that Rem dodged the question twice made Encrid think something was up.

“Did you kill someone?”

Asking about the most suspicious thing first.

“Huh?”

“I’m asking if you killed a superior officer from another unit while I wasn’t around.”

Could this be something that could be covered up? If they hadn’t been caught so far, they must have hidden it well.

The problem would be dealing with it afterward.

“What are you talking about?”

So he didn’t kill anyone?

“Did you beat someone up? Cripple them?”

This was also a big problem, but better than killing someone. Although he hoped it hadn’t come to that.

“It wasn’t the 1st Company, right?”

He asked again.

“…Suddenly I want to ask, what do you think of me?”

A mad dog that snaps at the slightest provocation.

A lunatic who beats up superiors if he doesn’t like them.

A pervert who torments soldiers for fun, and doubles the torment if he likes them.

“The look in your eyes, damn, I think I just got seriously hurt. I’ve never seen that look before.”

Never before, huh? That was surprising too.

He had suspected, just a little, but it was just a joke.

They usually cooled down with a few jokes like this and then went off to lunch. During that cooling-down time, Rem had started to speak.

“Well, as long as you didn’t kill or beat anyone, that’s good.”

Encrid said, and Rem sighed, looked up at the sky, and started to speak.

His gaze was cast sideways, and he was sitting under a tree about five steps away from Encrid.

Hadn’t Battalion Commander Marcus transplanted that tree next to the training ground?

“Because a training ground without shade is too barren.”

A surprisingly meticulous person.

Sitting apart with the tree between them, Rem’s voice began to be heard.

“When I was a child, my father first taught me how to use a spear. It was, well, fun.”

What is he trying to say?

It suddenly reminded him of the words the evil spirit in the cursed sword had once spoken.

Family, swordsmanship, bloodline, unfulfilled desires.

These things had bound him to the ground.

Did Rem have such things too?

Humans are inherently tied to something.

Whether it be dreams, status, power, or Krona.

“I learned hunting, which was fun too.”

But this guy…

“I also learned swordsmanship, which was fun as well.”

Should he teach him how to speak anew? He spoke awkwardly now, stumbling over words, unlike when he mocked and tormented others.

Seeing him like this made him seem even more vulnerable than Ragna.

Well, all the current company members were similar when they talked about themselves. Awkward, stumbling, the clearest they spoke was when teaching swordsmanship.

He didn’t know everything, but there were things he had learned by hearing bits and pieces.

Rem was from the West, and Ragna from the North, among other things.

This story from Rem was unusual.

The way he spoke was clumsy, but the content was worth listening to.

“Around that time, the Western War broke out. It wasn’t a pretty sight, but what could we do? We couldn’t just sit quietly when they came to kill us.”

Wars were still frequent across the continent. Naurillia had recently expanded its war with Aspen to seize the Green Pearl Plains.

In time, this would be known as the Green Pearl Plains War or something similar.

The Western War Rem mentioned was particularly brutal.

Dozens of pioneer villages each claimed their own King.

Some referred to it not as the Western War but as the War of the Thrones.

Eventually, one tribe emerged victorious, but it was a Pyrrhic victory.

Afterward, they had to submit to the Empire, having devastated and desolated the West.

“Back then, I used a sword too, and that was fun. Why are you looking at me like that?”

Damn genius.

It seemed like every weapon he picked up was fun for him.

From what he said, it seemed Rem had also been active during the Western War.

Considering his age now…

“You must have been around fifteen back then?”

“Yeah, around that age.”

Only fifteen years old.

‘What was I doing then?’

Was I desperately trying to leave the village?

Did I still believe I had some talent?

It was a time when he believed that hard work would lead to success because time was fair to everyone.

But time wasn’t fair.

As you can tell just from Rem’s story, time can flow more generously for those with talent than for those without.

“So, there’s something I want to ask.”

It didn’t make sense, lacked context, and unintentionally sounded like he was bragging about his genius.

He also mentioned killing some bear-like person from a neighboring tribe during the war.

He didn’t even know who that was, so how could he care?

At the end of it all, he posed a question.

“Are you really going to become a Knight?”

This was such a sudden question, but Encrid wasn’t fazed at all.

Maybe because it was a question he always thought about.

Hadn’t Encrid asked himself the same thing?

‘Can I become one? Is it possible? What does it mean to be a Knight?’

There were no answers in the repeated questions. Therefore, he took one step forward each day, because there was no other path.

Literally, whether it rained or snowed.

Whether the sun shone brightly.

Even on the path taken for a mission.

Even knowing today could end in death.

It wasn’t even enough to call it stubbornness.

“Yes.”

There wasn’t a moment’s hesitation in the response. Encrid was calm. It was like any other day, like any other answer.

For Rem, it felt fresh once again.

“Do you think it’s possible?”

“I don’t know.”

It was an honest answer. No one knows the future. Even the words of prophets aren’t to be trusted.

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

“Indeed.”

“Yes.”

They exchanged a few trivial words.

Afterward, it was back to the usual routine: eating, resting, sparring.

Rem didn’t ask the same question again. He was calm, but who could know what he was thinking?

Rem was deep in thought.

If that man really does become a Knight, if that happens…

‘Should I go back and find what I left behind?’

It was quite a serious dilemma. If he were to retrieve what he left behind when he departed from his land, even if he couldn’t become what people call a Knight, he could at least reach the level of a Knight.

The shrewd people of the continent tend to narrow the path to Knighthood to a single way, but Rem thought differently.

In fact, in the West, instead of ‘Knight’, they used the word ‘hero’. A hero to pioneer the continent, a term originating from ancient legends.

And Rem was once the top candidate among the next generation of heroes. He had been the best.

After a brief moment of consideration, several thoughts flashed through his mind.

Watching Encrid wield his sword day and night, Rem made a decision.

“Then I guess I’ll become a Knight too.”

Rem casually said. Normally, Encrid might have teased or mocked him.

For instance:

“Really?”

“You can’t become a Knight just by beating up a superior.”

“Are you feeling alright?”

Rem expected to hear something like that.

But instead, Encrid responded calmly.

“Really?”

And then followed with an almost obvious suggestion.

“Sparring?”

Rem found himself strangely pleased by this.

How remarkable it was, how consistently Encrid remained the same person.

Within that consistency, Rem appreciated the glimpse of something akin to respect in Encrid’s words and tone.

* * *

At the time Rem was sharing his resolution with Encrid, a figure with a black hood covering his face was watching the walls of the Border Guard from outside the city.

‘They’re tall.’

It would be difficult for most monsters to leap over.

But what if it were a higher-level beast?

Moreover…

“A temporary alliance.”

A dozen bandits from the Black Blade emerged.

This should be enough to cause a significant disturbance.

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