A Knight Who Eternally Regresses Novel - Chapter 745

Chapter 745

“Reaching the rank of knight isn’t the final destination.”

Pell looked up at Enkrid’s remark. His face was marked with dark bruises, and his arms dangled uselessly at his sides. He had endured a series of brutal strikes to his joints, leaving his muscles seizing with uncontrollable tremors. He was physically unable to lift his hands.

The outcome of the duel between the wooden practice blade and the Idol Killer had been absolute.

‘Evade and counter.’

That was the cornerstone of martial theory. Success relied on nimble movement. Pell understood the concept perfectly—but after experiencing it firsthand, he felt the foundations of his knowledge crumbling. Enkrid barely moved his feet. He simply anticipated the trajectory, striking with enough speed and force to shatter Pell’s momentum and deliver a punishing return blow.

How had it come to this?

A sense of profound bewilderment bloomed within his mind. As it did, Enkrid’s words began to echo with new meaning. To be a knight was not the conclusion, but the starting line. Beyond these walls, Pell might be viewed as a prodigy among the wilderness nomads—but within this circle, he was nothing special.

Enkrid still practiced his swings with the fervor of a madman every single day. Everyone touched by his influence pushed themselves to the breaking point. Pell witnessed this daily. After just one encounter, Pell’s arrogance had shriveled to a healthy size, allowing him to finally see the gap between his current reach and his true potential.

“What’s the word on that idiot Rophod?”

Among the goals he could actually achieve, beating Rophod into the dirt seemed like a realistic next step. Pell went looking for him, but it wasn’t until the following morning that Rophod appeared in the practice courtyard. Unsurprisingly, Rophod had also pierced through his own ceiling.

The primary distinction between the two was that while Pell had been busy feeding his ego, Rophod had never let his head get into the clouds.

‘This place is crawling with freaks.’

To Rophod, every member of the Mad Knights—Enkrid included—served as a benchmark and a target to chase. He had watched them. He had gauged their power. That was why he remained humble. It was a matter of temperament rather than talent. In truth, Rophod still hadn’t fully grasped the extent of his own capabilities either.

Nonetheless, both Pell and Rophod had instinctively unlocked the use of Will. Because of this, they continued to view one another as their primary competition.

“Barely keeping your head above water, I see,” Pell remarked with a predatory smirk.

“Who’s the one following whom?”

“You’re trailing me, obviously.”

“In what world am I the one chasing?”

“Does lying to yourself make you feel better?”

“I said, who is doing the chasing?”

Their verbal sparring was almost touching in its own way. Watching them trade blows with their swords immediately afterward was just as satisfying. A messenger who had arrived to drop off a dispatch looked stunned by the violence of their exchange—but anyone who spent time in the Knights’ hall knew better. They were used to seeing Rem trade strikes with Ragna, Audin, or Jaxon. Eventually, you just became desensitized to the chaos.

The dispatch originated from the Pioneer King in the eastern territories.

—Dunbakel went a full month without washing and finally broke through his limit.

What kind of report was this supposed to be?

The letter contained various updates regarding the East, but the focus remained on Dunbakel. Word was that they were calling him the “Golden-Eyed Lion” in those parts. He had apparently refused to depart, so the message warned that anyone looking for him should be ready for a hard time. That was the essence of the news.

‘I never intended to restrain him.’

If Dunbakel wished to remain in the East, his choice would be honored. Unless Anu was keeping him there by force, there was no reason to go after him. He’d simply ask him about it when the time was right.

“Are you occupied?”

Once he finished the letter, Shinar appeared.

“If you’re free, come and entertain me.”

She wasn’t being literal; it was just the usual fairy way of twisting words. The Fairy Village had requested Enkrid’s presence. They had a gift prepared for him. Before departing, he glanced back to see Pell and Rophod still locked in a stalemate, testing each other’s limits. Now that they had ascended to knighthood, their unique styles were becoming more pronounced. They likely wouldn’t actually kill each other now. Besides, this was the home of the Knights; even in his absence, a senior member would intervene before things turned fatal.

“Very well, let’s go.”

“You’ve grown into a fascinating mortal, my betrothed.”

As he stood up without a second thought, Shinar’s eyes crinkled. Regardless of her intent, a fairy’s grin acted like a thief, stealing away a man’s composure. Naturally, Enkrid remained stone-faced. Becoming a knight fortified the spirit. When the soul wavers, the physique follows. Once that lesson is learned, maintaining a steady mind becomes second nature.

As Shinar led him toward the fairy settlement, the Woodguard Bran was the first to receive them.

*Puff.*

A cloud of white vapor escaped his lips. A living tree was clutching a burning ember in its maw.

“You still haven’t quit?”

“It’s a demon plant. Once the fire is lit, the habit takes root.”

They walked past the smoking wood fairy at the gates. A member of the flame-wielding clans gave a curt, distant nod and began to follow them from a distance. And it wasn’t just one; every fairy eye in the vicinity was fixed on him. To them, Enkrid was a savior. The man who preserved the Fairy City. He was their legend. They had congregated simply to catch a glimpse of him.

“They have excellent taste,” Shinar remarked, glancing at the crowd. There was a subtle note of pride in her tone.

“Don’t they have chores to attend to?”

A small group of fairies trailed them from the shadows, peering through the foliage and making soft noises. To anyone else, it might have felt like being hunted, but Enkrid wasn’t bothered. It was far better than being trapped at a formal banquet and harassed by high-born ladies. At least the fairies kept a respectful distance.

Presently, the head of the fairy council stepped forward. Enkrid struggled to recall the name again. It was a recurring problem since he woke up after the battle with the One-Killer. He managed to remember just in time.

“Ermen?”

“You got it right this time.”

Ermen nodded, looking pleased.

“Do you find my name so easy to forget?”

Shinar made a passing comment, and Enkrid found himself reflecting on the past. This fairy had always been full of mischief. But he had matured. He could handle these jabs with grace now.

‘A significant amount of time has truly slipped by.’

He had more people to protect now—and he had succeeded in doing so. He couldn’t deny the sense of accomplishment.

“Was your name Shinar?”

“Ouch, that actually hurt.”

Shinar laughed at the retort. She seemed to smile more frequently these days.

“Accept this.”

Ermen had called for Enkrid to present him with a reward. The clan leader handed over a bundled fabric. When Enkrid unfurled it, a cloak of deep, rich green caught the breeze.

‘Is this… life force?’

From the weave of the cloth, Enkrid could feel a vitality akin to the breath of the forest.

“The moment we took up residence here, the dryads spent months spinning this thread, weaving their very spirits into the work.”

The garment glowed with a soft luster, seemingly drinking in the light. Enkrid settled it over his shoulders. It shifted and reshaped itself to fit his frame, extending from his upper legs down to his heels.

‘A masterwork of enchantment.’

The scent of a fresh meadow wafted from the fabric. Just wearing it felt as refreshing as a walk through the woods. Cloaks weren’t traditionally designed for the heat of combat, but knights frequently utilized them. The Red Cloak Order even treated theirs as shields against sorcery. It was clear even to an untrained eye that this had been crafted with immense devotion. It brought to mind the footwear he had received from the local cobbler. That man had given the best he had to offer. These fairies were doing the exact same thing.

“It suits you. The hue is particularly striking.”

Consequently, the official color of the Knights’ regalia shifted from navy to forest green. Regardless of their original plan, the crest of the Border Guard had already been embroidered into the new cloak.

“What’s this? A change in uniform?”

On the walk back, Kraiss noticed the new gear and questioned him. Enkrid gave a simple nod.

“It would seem so.”

Shinar followed a few paces behind, her eyes shining with satisfaction.

“Green represents love.”

She beamed, clearly happy that he was wearing a symbol of her people.

Later that day, Esther asked him to accompany her to the market. It was a rare request, so he agreed to the walk.

“Joy seems to be blooming on every face. It’s quite curious.”

Esther was studying the humans. She was seeing things here that she had never encountered in the deep woods. To her eyes, the city was a fountain of plenty.

“Hey, take a look at my wares!”

They passed a giant who had opened a trading stall.

“What are you doing out here?”

He even spotted Seiki selling bundles of flora. Here was a woman with the divine power of a saint, hawking herbs she’d gathered herself. But Seiki had been a ranger; find and harvesting plants was second nature to her.

“I’m not going to sit around like a parasite just because I’m healthy. People need a purpose.”

A life of pure contemplation and prayer might be serene, but without work, the mind grows dull. Her outlook was surprisingly grounded.

“Wait… Uncle?”

Enkrid then stumbled upon a face from the past.

“Eek!”

He couldn’t recall the name. The man’s look had shifted—his beard was groomed, his hair was short, and he’d slimmed down. But the reaction was unmistakable: the vacant stare and the hanging jaw. This was the man who used to boast about being related to the “Iron Wall Knight” because Enkrid knew Leona, the leader of the Lockfried caravan—and who had been beaten soundly after harassing Enri’s group. It was ironic that he remembered a man like Malton but forgot names like Ermen.

“The Iron Wall Knight,” the man whispered. Enkrid nodded.

“It’s good to see you. You look like a different person. Do you have any coin on you?”

Malton was leading a new life. He was no longer the toxic individual he had been.

“Yes, whatever you require,” he replied with a clear, steady gaze.

A real transformation had occurred. Enkrid recognized it and acknowledged the change. People really could turn their lives around. As it turned out, Malton was now employed by the Lockfried caravan, leading a team of merchants.

“I even went back to that village.”

Enkrid passed on news from the hidden community he had once visited.

“They said you’re always welcome. They haven’t forgotten what you did for them.”

It wasn’t a thrilling tale, but it was a heartwarming one. From Dunbakel to the secluded village, the day was filled with such stories.

“Freshly baked pies—grab some!”

He exchanged words with Allen, the innkeeper. Vanessa, looking a bit older, waved to him from her seat. Fruit sellers offered him greetings. The cobbler shared a laugh, noting it had been quite a while.

He had once only imagined a day like this. The vendor who trimmed the rot off an apple and gave it away anyway. The server who roasted potatoes in the coals. The hardened old woman who used to sell herself and curse at the world. The soldiers of fortune who had traded war for the hope of quiet. In this sanctuary they had built, Enkrid walked among them, greeting them all.

Even his sword practice felt lighter today. Even trading barbs with Shinar was enjoyable. Esther had much to say as she observed the world through her witch’s perspective. It was almost like normal conversation.

“I’ve got a moment, so behold—my plan for the salon!”

Kraiss looked ready to bring his vision to life. He argued that the nobles arriving at the Border Guard would require a proper place to mingle. Enkrid ran into Leona during his walk as well.

“That item we brought from the village… no, I’ll explain another time.”

Kin Baisar was by her side.

“You broke a few hearts today; many ladies assumed you were already taken,” Leona joked.

Walking with Esther, Enkrid noticed the attention they drew. The sun was warm, the sky was a clear blue, and the clouds were thin.

Back at the training grounds, Ragna was instructing a group of ten recruits. Enkrid had designed the training regimen, and Ragna was seeing to its execution.

“No holding back today. Let’s see some real steel.”

The late spar with Rem was equally engaging. He ended up soaked in sweat, as Rem’s unpredictable wit kept throwing off his strategy. But he had learned to embrace that chaos and fold it into his own tactics.

“Impressive,” Lua Gharne remarked. After the bout, he and Enkrid spent a long time talking.

In this city full of things he had fought to save—surrounded by his companions—this was the life he had once only dared to dream of.

And then, within the world of his dreams, the Ferryman appeared with a proposal.

“What lies before you is no longer a path of grief or bitterness, but a present filled with peace and delight. End your life before you go to sleep tonight. That is all I ask.”

Indeed. The Ferryman’s suggestion… even to Enkrid, it finally sounded like a fair trade.