A Knight Who Eternally Regresses Novel - Chapter 729

Chapter 729

Certain individuals, even after stumbling upon the immense fortune of a gold coin in the dirt, might still yearn for something greater. Even when graced with peculiar luck, they often feel the windfall fell short of their expectations.
But Enkrid was not like them.
‘It is certain.’
The atmosphere had shifted. The radiance of the sun felt different.
The transformation wrought by the twilight sorcery left Enkrid feeling a deep sense of contentment.
It was that time of year when the warmth of the air began to take hold.
Even Zaun, which had been battered and torn by the gales, was finally at a stage where it could find its footing once more.
“I intend to uphold the legacy of Milezcia. That doesn’t mean I plan to abandon my training with the blade.”
Magrun had inherited everything Milezcia had left behind. Because of his own chronic, severe malady, he was already quite knowledgeable regarding various medicinal treatments.
While his passion for the sword remained, someone had to step up to fulfill the duty.
If a person views such a responsibility as a crushing weight, it becomes a mere stone. However, if one embraces it with joy rather than duty, it can be pursued with genuine delight.
Magrun was undoubtedly the latter.
“It provides me with pleasure. The herbalism of Zaun is destined to reach even greater heights.”
“It is the art of healing. It involves far more than simply knowing how to apply plants.”
Anne had presented him with a journal she had personally composed. It reportedly contained various cures and protocols for different types of wounds and ailments.
Reflecting on the depth and caliber of the text, if it were ever to circulate throughout the lands, it might inadvertently cause many deaths due to its power. To put it simply, it was an object that deserved to be labeled a true treasure.
In a realm where people struggle, bicker, and even spill blood over a solitary artifact, it was logical that nations would send entire knight orders to explore ancient ruins.
Furthermore, professional treasure hunters were well aware that relics weren’t the only things that qualified as treasures.
“…If you handed this to me because you felt some affection…”
Magrun had briefly succumbed to a misunderstanding.
“Do you not own a mirror? Is there a lack of clear water in Zaun? You would understand your situation if you simply checked your reflection in a creek.”
His assumption was shut down instantly.
With her delicate and balanced features, Anne appeared to be a soft-spoken lady, but she was a woman of fierce resolve who had navigated the continent armed with nothing but a few vials of medicine.
Not to mention, she had already committed her future to Ragna.
In any case, when the moment comes to move forward, one must take the step.
Just as Zaun was doing at this very moment.
By the time Enkrid had nearly finished his arrangements to depart, carrying a feeling of profound clarity—
Schmidt, who had tirelessly insisted that the Empire possessed many wonders, arrived with one of them in tow.
Enkrid had never expressed disbelief, nor had he demanded proof. Yet, the proof had arrived.
“Schmidt, is this the companion you spoke of? The one you wished to introduce?”
The newcomer had the hair on his sides and back shorn clean as if by a straight razor, while the top and front were left at a moderate length. He possessed a massive frame and carried a heavy, blocky club at his side.
It was a crushing tool with a flat, rectangular head—a very distinct weapon.
He was clad in custom-fitted armor: a chest piece, shoulder guards, arm guards, and thin metal sleeves protecting the thighs.
The joints were disconnected, giving the impression that he had taken a suit of plate mail apart and put it on in segments. Nevertheless, the metal followed such elegant curves that it was striking.
When that fellow, Panito or whatever his name was, had appeared in the middle of a conflict, he had worn unique gear as well—but this was on another level.
This protective gear looked so perfectly adjusted that it seemed to be an extension of his own flesh.
‘Why does it possess that appearance?’
Was it due to the stillness and lucidity in his soul?
Rather than questioning what the man was saying or his identity, Enkrid found himself increasingly fascinated by that detail.
“Are you Enkrid of the Border Guard?”
The stranger inquired.
Enkrid had not yet concluded his scrutiny, but that didn’t prevent him from speaking.
Even though the man displayed no overt malice or murderous intent, Enkrid could perceive that he was eternally prepared for combat.
Even without shifting a limb or projecting an agenda, it was transparent.
This individual could engage in battle at any second. His martial resolve wrapped around him like a second skin. That, too, was intriguing.
Still, his manner of speaking was far from formal.
“Who are you?”
He didn’t move his head, but it was the sort of retort a mercenary gives when met with a challenge.
Had this been a dark corner of a tavern in some side street, with a few mugs of ale, the smell of sickness, liquor, and smoke hanging in the air—it would have been the perfect setting.
But for Enkrid, this was the natural way to respond.
If you desire a person’s identity, you provide your own first. That is basic etiquette.
“…It’s been a long time. Getting a reaction like that. It doesn’t happen often when one dwells within the Empire.”
The man spoke as he lifted his left hand, fingers held straight and palm pressed flat against his chest. It was a motion intended to display his emblem.
A large ring encircling a smaller one.
The mark of the Empire.
It was also the badge of the Imperial Knights.
Inside the Empire’s borders, that mark served as both a passport and a badge of office, earning deference from everyone.
However, this was not the Empire.
“And? Who are you?”
Enkrid asked once more.
The stranger’s mouth twitched into a grin. The crooked smile that followed was predatory, like a tiger’s.
He smiled—but a wave of lethal intent surged. Recognizing that bloodlust taking physical shape, Enkrid appraised him as a warrior on the same level as a family head.
The aura he radiated took the ghostly form of a heavy, spiked mace.
Primal and unrefined. That was his essence. Like a cudgel stained with dried gore and scraps of flesh, never wiped clean.
An equal to a family head?
Perhaps that was why—
A spark of excitement flared in Enkrid’s gaze.
Should they test one another?
He had so many questions. That armor that fitted like skin. That constant, sharpened will.
Most of all—he could not foresee the style of violence the man would unleash.
“Valphir Valmung.”
The warrior stated his name.
Enkrid opened his mouth just enough to give his reply.
“Enkrid of the Border Guard.”
Above the valley where the tempest had passed, only a soft breeze drifted. And within that quiet wind, two predators locked eyes.
It appeared as though they might draw steel at any breath. Samcheol began to hum.
Zeeeeing.
As the blade pulsed with vibration, the man’s hand, at some point, had moved to his hip. He took hold of the club. A sharp tooth gleamed. A notably pointed fang.
“Sir Valphir.”
Schmidt uttered something from the side, but it was not the time for him to interfere.
Nor did a brawl erupt right then and there.
There were plenty of souls present to prevent it. And they were extremely one-sided.
“That is enough, Valmung. If you take one more step, you won’t come out of this unscathed.”
“A practice match is one thing. But if you radiate the desire to kill, the situation changes.”
“You should cease. If you do not, I will strike with my blade without a word of caution.”
The first three to speak up were the family head, Lynox, and Alexandra.
Yet Valmung did not retract his pressure. He intensified it. Was he more of a threat than the Medusa they had recently slain? It was a different kind of power, but certainly hazardous.
Why had the atmosphere become so strained? No one truly knew. It simply occurred.
“A knight of the Empire is forbidden from drawing his weapon against our savior while within the bounds of Zaun.”
Odinkar moved forward, his expression sharp and unwavering.
“If you wish to swing a piece of iron, go find some beasts to play with.”
Magrun also took a step toward the front, his features set. Even through a neutral face, feelings could leak through—and this expression was one of pure disdain.
“Hey, who do you think you are?”
Even the stunningly beautiful giantess, who had once identified as a servant, Riley and Kato, and the youths who had been under Enkrid’s tutelage, all stepped into the fray.
Before long, the entirety of Zaun had gathered, placing the Imperial knight under immense pressure.
“Who is this arrogant person?”
“Why is he acting this way toward our Enki?”
“Is that a threat? He is practically dripping with the intent to murder.”
“Just because he’s a knight doesn’t mean our steel won’t bite into him.”
They were truly bold.
But it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation.
They were reacting simply because someone was acting aggressively toward their champion.
It is only human to react when something cherished is threatened.
To these people, Enkrid had become someone very precious.
Naturally, Enkrid was more than capable of defending himself. But beyond that, they simply could not tolerate watching someone launch an unprovoked challenge at him.
So yes, there was something about the sight that warmed his heart.
Valphir Valmung, the man who had stated his identity, looked at Enkrid and was the first to let his killing aura fade.
“Sir Valphir.”
Schmidt, visibly perspiring, gripped the knight’s arm.
“Imperial knight Valphir Valmung.”
He repeated his name, grinning as he offered a hand.
When Enkrid instinctively moved to take it, the family head, Alexandra, and Lynox all stepped into his path.
“I arrived to assist Zaun and have no malicious intent toward this individual. Yes?”
Valmung spoke to the three, who clearly recognized him.
“And none of you look to be in peak condition. Don’t overexert yourselves.”
As Valmung finished his sentence, Odinkar cut in.
“I am in perfect health.”
He had already positioned himself right next to Enkrid. Seeing the people of Zaun forming a wall behind the boy, Valmung gave a short, dry chuckle.
“Schmidt claimed this fellow rescued Zaun. I suspected he was blowing things out of proportion, but… it seems it was the truth.”
Schmidt shook his head.
“I already told you that.”
“Regardless, I have no ill will.”
Finally, he held out his hand again.
When Enkrid clasped it, Valmung used his Will to squeeze—but Enkrid’s physical form had been forged by none other than Audin.
In terms of pure grip strength, he was surpassed only by Audin in the entirety of the Mad Platoon.
Crack-crack-crack.
the joined hands of the two warriors produced a strange, grinding noise, though neither man’s bones gave way.
“You possess great strength.”
Valphir Valmung remarked, his face twitching slightly from the strain.
“It’s my first time meeting a knight of the Empire.”
Enkrid responded with indifference and released his hold.
Later, as they conversed, it was revealed that Valphir Valmung had come partly to provide support to Zaun.
“Isn’t your arrival a bit premature?”
In response to Odinkar’s query, Valmung explained that when he received Schmidt’s plea, he was already in pursuit of the leader of a group of outlaws—but the target had doubled back, so his path had shifted and brought him to this location.
But why would a knight be hunting a common bandit?
As it happened, the man being hunted was also at the level of a knight.
The scale of villainy within the Empire must be on a different level.
“I used to serve in the legions, so I was acquainted with him. He realized some potential but began causing chaos. He has a penchant for taking lives.”
The world is full of all sorts—and some are simply deserving of damnation. That was how Enkrid interpreted it.
Valmung had intended to execute the runaway first, but since the target had changed course nearby, he stopped here first and planned to pick up the trail afterward.
He could have simply departed again—
“Would you like to accompany me?”
He suddenly invited Enkrid to come along.
“I am waiting for someone, so I cannot depart immediately. But isn’t your hunt a matter of urgency?”
Enkrid asked, but Valmung merely shook his head with a smirk.
“Bah, a day or two won’t change the outcome.”
If he could say that, then it wasn’t truly a pressing matter. So then, why was his assistance to Zaun so delayed? It wasn’t something worth interrogating him over.
‘Viewing it from a distance…’
Had he been waiting to make a grand entrance once Zaun was at its weakest?
But because of Enkrid, that opportunity never arrived. And now he had deduced something else.
‘Zaun shares a silent pact with the Empire.’
Otherwise, this level of familiarity wouldn’t exist. That was why the family head and the others were acquainted with Valmung.
So who had orchestrated this arrangement?
‘Heskal.’
A third safety net for the survival of Zaun.
If all other options failed, the plan was to bring them under the protection of the Empire.
So they could not afford to turn into rivals.
Yet every citizen of Zaun had stood up against the Imperial knight for the sake of Enkrid.
The family head looked toward him, and Enkrid spoke first.
“If Ragna doesn’t show up, I am not leaving. If I depart without him, we might never cross paths again.”
Expecting Ragna to track him down would be like waiting for a miracle in the next life.
But then Valmung, claiming he would wait, offered a very seductive piece of bait.
“Don’t you wish to witness Imperial sword techniques? I wasn’t born in the Empire, but the man I am hunting is a practitioner of their highest arts.”
And Enkrid, like a hungry fish, found that lure difficult to ignore.
‘Should I leave Anne behind?’
She would be sufficient to act as his guide.
Ragna had mentioned it would take at least another week. Something about requiring that much time to organize the sunrise?
Valmung, perhaps due to a habit of speaking boldly, tended to grate on people’s nerves every time he opened his mouth. However, Enkrid found that quality quite amusing.
What a rare specimen of a man—an Imperial knight, no less.
To claim he wasn’t curious would be a falsehood.
And he didn’t believe this man harbored any real desire to hurt him.
“Well? What is your decision? And for the rest of you, set your minds at ease. I pledge on the reputation of the Imperial Knights—I will not bring any harm to this man.”
Valmung provided those words to quiet the remaining protests.
He might not have been a master of rhetoric, but he was a person who understood how to skillfully navigate a tense situation.