A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

‘Why won’t you stop?’

Edin Molsen wasn’t intimidating. At first, it felt wrong to beat him like this, but repetition makes it easier, doesn’t it?

In other words, it wasn’t about him being the son of Count Molsen, but rather about respecting an opponent who doesn’t know how to give up.

So, he ended up focusing on beating him up.

“Go easy on him, please. Go easy.”

Krais said, unable to watch any longer.

“He keeps coming at me.”

It wasn’t just senseless beating. He was an opponent who endlessly challenged and attacked.

How could he treat someone like that half-heartedly?

Encrid just couldn’t do it. The path he had walked made him realize that half-hearted treatment would be more harmful. It would be more unpleasant.

For Encrid, respecting his opponent was the easier and more comfortable way. Of course, it was his own perspective and method.

“Here we go again.”

Edin Molsen came with a wooden sword once more. He wasn’t attacking just because he was stupid.

At least now, he no longer used a real sword. At first, he didn’t even draw his sword before being knocked down, but now it was different.

Of course, he swung, slashed, and stabbed.

Encrid never lost his manners.

To him, manners meant not ignoring the sincerity shown by his opponent.

His manners were…

Whack!

Hitting him on the head without holding back at all.

“Ugh!”

A single scream and then striking his solar plexus hard enough to make him pass out.

“Brother!”

Edin Molsen’s younger brother, who had been watching, was initially shocked. But only at the beginning.

As he said, repetition dulls the senses.

“Are you alright?”

Now, even when Edin fell, his brother remained unfazed.

If Encrid had intended to kill him, he would have done so already. If he had meant to cripple him, he would have done so too.

Hadn’t they already sparred more than twenty times?

“No way, he’s here again? That body sure is tough.”

In some ways, Rem should be Edin’s enemy. Isn’t he the one who killed his brother?

But Rem didn’t seem to care at all.

He sure has a thick skin. Are all barbarians like this?

It’s an unnecessary question. It’s not important. Whether his skin is thick or not, Rem is Rem.

A monster who handles two axes incredibly well.

Encrid is extremely satisfied and pleased with the monster’s skills.

“I’m warmed up.”

At Encrid’s words, a smile spread across Rem’s face.

“Once again, I have to say…”

“That I might die?”

Despite his words being cut off, Rem still smiled. With a broad grin, Encrid replied.

“You might too.”

“Damn, I usually don’t swear, but did you know? I’m the happiest when I smash the Commander’s face.”

Encrid agreed with those words, both mentally and physically.

He could deeply sympathize with it.

“You’re just like me.”

“…Do you have a habit of hitting your own face?”

Encrid’s gaze fixed on Rem.

His gray eyes met Encrid’s blue ones directly.

Rem hadn’t been idle all this time either.

If Encrid had learned the Heart of the Beast, Rem had also learned something.

Now, it seemed his skills had greatly improved. The technique of twisting someone’s mood and making them boil with anger, that is.

“Yes, I do have such a habit.”

When he admitted it abruptly, Rem frowned.

“Admitting it here?”

There is always someone better.

Ignoring mental blows and responding in unexpected ways—that’s the essence of verbal sparring.

“Are you just going to wag your tongue?”

At this question, which called for the end of the verbal sparring, Rem’s axes swished through the air. He was wielding two again.

The Madmen Platoon had accomplished a lot during this time. Requesting an axe from the armory was no big deal.

The difference was, in the past, Rem didn’t care much about his weapons, but this time he requested them considering weight distribution and balance.

“I can’t make it that precise.”

The blacksmith said.

“Well, can’t be helped then.”

The fact that Rem didn’t argue further suggested he wasn’t overly concerned.

Anyway, the important thing was what he could do with this changed axe.

Ping.

Encrid tapped the axe blade with his sword.

“Stop breaking my axes.”

Rem muttered as he charged. For a moment, it felt like his body grew larger. He was that fast and bold.

A sudden realization struck.

Whose was the Heart of the Beast originally?

In terms of boldness and daring, Rem was the best.

Encrid swung his sword vertically to the ground.

This too was a lightning-fast slash.

Swish.

The sword cut through empty air.

Rem’s body blurred. The accelerating axe turned into a flash of light and struck. One from above, one from below.

At first, he was caught off guard by the axes that curved like whips.

Enduring that, he then faced strikes as fast as light.

And now?

Thwap! Thwap!

Encrid swung his sword up and down. The blade rippled like a wave, deflecting the two strikes.

Fluid Sword Technique, Wave Passing.

He saw it in the Rapier Swordsman, refined it through Shepherd Pell, and perfected it against Rem.

Rem didn’t care that he was blocked. As soon as he was stopped, he threw one axe into the air. Then, holding just one axe, he charged again.

Unorthodox, bold.

Bizarre and daring.

That was Rem. To put it simply, Encrid lost.

“That was close.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Should he be satisfied with those words? Should he?

No, there was no need. Encrid learned something new again today.

More precisely, he realized what he lacked.

From the Sense of the Blade to the Gate of Sixth Sense, to the Sense of Evasion.

Jaxon called it ‘Sense Technique’.

He hadn’t neglected honing it, but that was what led to his defeat.

‘Too sensitive.’

He had been too focused on the axe Rem threw into the air. Should he have ignored it then?

In the end, Rem kicked the falling axe to accelerate it and struck his shoulder.

‘Selection and focus.’

It’s a review. Reflecting and understanding.

It was a familiar process.

It was Encrid’s daily routine. The difference now was the speed at which he was learning.

It was similar to when he first realized what talent was. The Heart of the Beast, Sense Technique, Focus Point, and the Isolation Technique were like that.

This time was no different.

‘Will.’

Though it was just ‘Will’, the experience gave him a new perspective.

What is a genius? It’s hard to explain. Everything comes naturally to them. It felt like he had gained a part of that natural ease.

It was the same now.

The process of reflecting after defeat, realizing his mistakes, and figuring out what was needed was different from before.

Encrid wasn’t aware of it.

He was just doing what he always did.

Of course, everyone, including Rem, noticed.

‘Will, huh.’

That Troublesome Commander and ‘Will,’ huh.

‘Wow, really.’

The fledgling who didn’t know when he would die on the battlefield had become a chicken with a steel beak.

No, he could no longer be called a chicken.

He could now be called a beast.

Hiding his admiration, Rem spoke.

“That damn Count’s son must have some scheme, seeing how he keeps coming.”

“I see.”

Encrid, already deep in thought, didn’t care.

No, even if he had heard it, he would have ignored it.

Not just Rem, everyone had something to say.

“That brother is hiding something.”

Audin said so too.

Jaxon gestured that he found him suspicious, and Krais even formulated a few theories.

“Why is he here? Broadly speaking, I see two reasons. One, the Count might covet you, Commander. The second, he’s trying to find your weakness.”

Krais said he felt something similar in Edin Molsen’s gaze. Whether it was surveillance or exploration.

Encrid partially agreed.

Edin Molsen’s escort showed a similar attitude, but what mattered to Encrid wasn’t his gaze.

‘Should I draw it out?’

The escort never fully showed his skills. Sometimes his eyes gleamed fiercely, and that made Encrid expect more, but…

He always held back. He never went all out. He didn’t raise his momentum to dangerous levels.

“That guy knows what he’s doing.”

Rem said that the escort had also stepped into ‘Will’.

So at the very least, he was on par with them.

Anyway, the escort had refused any further sparring requests since then.

“I am just Edin Molsen’s escort.”

Then, why did he challenge him before?

It was a test, an assessment, an evaluation.

‘For what?’

Encrid wondered for a moment if he should figure that out.

He decided it wasn’t necessary.

So, he ignored it. He ignored Edin Molsen’s strange looks.

He ignored his younger brother’s peculiar stares.

He ignored the escort’s occasional loitering.

Even when Jaxon subtly suggested that removing those who were bothersome was an option, he ignored it.

However, when Edin wanted to spar, he would face him properly.

Months passed since Edin Molsen stayed in the territory, and the time had come when the cold naturally brought out comments about the chill.

It looked like snow would fall soon.

During this time, there were a few changes.

“I am Teresa the Wanderer.”

The half-blood Giant would often open her mouth and mutter to herself.

During the day, it was fine.

It seemed like a form of resolve and reflection.

However, when she mumbled like that in her sleep, it was with a lot of cold sweat, a sign of nightmares.

Whenever Audin heard her muttering like that, he would quietly place his hand on her forehead.

“Sleep as calmly as the settled ashes.”

The God of war is the embodiment of burned-out ashes, and he represents him.

He prayed while placing his hand on the forehead of the follower of the Sacred Cult.

It was an unusual sight, but Teresa never complained when she woke up.

After waking, she would just blink and eventually glance at Encrid once before falling back asleep.

By now, it was a familiar routine.

There were many other changes in daily life.

Dunbachel, instead of getting beaten by Rem, had taken on a different task, and the reason was Rem’s insistence.

“It’s only right to receive a teaching fee.”

Rem claimed that since he had taught Dunbachel, it was time to pay for it.

Dunbachel did not argue that she had never wanted any of it.

In fact, she had asked Encrid herself.

“What is that barbarian?”

It was a difficult question to answer.

‘A lunatic? A guy with a broken head? A noble killer? An axe murderer? A crazy axe wielder?’

Too many things came to mind to choose from.

Fortunately, Dunbachel did not wait for an answer.

“I’ve improved.”

When Encrid personally sparred with Dunbachel, he found her words to be true. In other words, Dunbachel wasn’t cursing Rem but genuinely curious about it.

“You’ve improved.”

Whenever Dunbachel whimpered, rubbing her thigh where the flat of the blade had struck hard, she would tear up a little and nod.

“Yeah.”

She had indeed improved. To an unrecognizable degree. Are all beastmen like this?

Or is it because of some legend about golden eyes?

It’s hard to say. And he wasn’t interested either.

Encrid felt Dunbachel’s gaze and looked in her direction. He saw her golden eyes.

She was currently thinking of Encrid as a monster.

Having endured Rem’s violence, she now felt confident she could defeat her former self, even if there were two of her.

But Encrid had gone even further in the meantime.

‘A genius.’

She was mistaken, but it wasn’t her fault. Anyone would see it that way.

Most importantly, ‘Will’, even if just a part of it, it was ‘Will’.

She realized that.

The exclusive domain of Knights, the strength of those with Knightly power.

That change had come upon Encrid.

Seeing Encrid, Ragna recognized that it was time to address his own shortcomings.

He had recognized them before, but lacked the motivation to act.

Now, Ragna acted.

“Krais, I want a sword that’s double-layered like this.”

“Do I look like someone who will bring you what you want if you ask for it? If so, you’ve got it right.”

Krais, having weighed the bag of krona and counted the silver coins Ragna handed over, adopted a compliant attitude towards the money.

Ragna obtained a sword.

Though it was not sharpened, its size and shape were similar to a bastard sword, but it was several times heavier than a typical sword.

Ragna began to swing it slowly.

There was no speed. He performed each move slowly, methodically. He spent more than half of his waking hours in this manner.

It was a significant improvement, and anyone who knew Ragna would be surprised.

Encrid spent the majority of his waking hours training, but this was Ragna, the embodiment of laziness.

Though it hadn’t been half a day, seeing him dedicate himself to training like that was a marvel in itself.

Back to the present, Rem demanded krona from Dunbachel.

Dunbachel complied without complaint.

“Go earn some krona.”

Recently, the area had been teeming with beasts and monsters like never before.

It was winter. Naturally, this happened.

When food becomes scarce, they tend to become more aggressive.

“Looks like it’s going to snow, doesn’t it?”

Krais said while cutting Ragna’s hair.

Encrid silently looked up at the sky. The dull gray clouds were gradually covering the sky.

If it got just a bit colder, the devil’s excrement would fall.

Well, around this time last year, they had struggled to clear the falling snow.

Now…

“Training Company, assemble!”

That one command would be enough.

Life continued even after the Rapier Swordsman left.

The daily routine hadn’t changed, but the things within it were evolving.

Edin Molsen had become a long-term guest, and in the meantime, his escort had left, citing other business.

It was a departure without any formal goodbyes.

At the beginning of winter, with the first snow seemingly imminent.

Dunbachel went out on a beast extermination request.

Finn, who had started wandering outside some time ago, moved under the command of the Fairy Company Commander from the Independent Company.

“Can I go?”

She seemed more lively leaving than when she arrived, which was probably a good thing.

“Do as you wish.”

Encrid said indifferently.

There was no reason or need to stop her.

Teresa came in, and Finn went out.

It was a day when, despite these changes, the daily routine remained the same.

“Independent Company Commander, you are being summoned!”

Late in the afternoon, despite it being winter, Encrid was sweating profusely while swinging his sword when a messenger arrived.

“They said it’s urgent.”

With those words, Encrid immediately headed to the Battalion Commander’s office.

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