A Knight Who Eternally Regresses - Chapter 302

Chapter 302: CHAPTER 300 Chapter 302: CHAPTER 300 ‘Well, he sure put up a fight at the end.’ A body honed through divine strength and skills perfected by years of experience.

The Madman of Immortality was indeed no pushover.

He only grabbed his spear and charged after part of his skull was smashed.

Bleeding profusely, he stubbornly closed the distance, getting close enough to reach out.

“You bastard, did you think I, I would go down that easily?” Rem inwardly admired him.

Yeah, it should’ve been like this from the start.

What followed was a bloody battle, literally a fight where blood splattered.

The spear pierced through his heated leather and stabbed his thigh.

He twisted his foot to dodge, barely avoiding becoming a limping Rem.

In return, he took two of the opponent’s fingers with his axe.

He managed to dodge, so it was just two fingers.

Originally, he aimed to cut off the wrist.

Regret was regret, but the fight was still the fight.

Rem was excited.

He felt a surge of exhilaration.

It had been a long time since he’d faced such a worthy opponent.

Despite bursting the Heart of Great Strength, this opponent displayed power comparable to a Giant.

And he sustained this great strength through divine means.

“How is this possible without sorcery?” The Madman of Immortality was shocked several times.

The first shock was the Heart of Great Strength.

“Grab me!” He repeatedly cursed.

That must’ve meant he was truly surprised.

Rem played along, roughly matching him.

“Hey, is that really something you should be saying, you bastard?” Grab me?  He was just using fragments of reinforcement sorcery, but the opponent was mixing sorcery to use bizarre techniques, and yet he was saying ‘grab me’?

Graaab meeee?

If that was a provocation, it was well done.

“You motherless bastard.” Rem got angry.

“My mother died a hundred years ago!” “Oh, so you don’t have a mother.” The madman also got angry.

Both of them shouted and fought.

Rem felt threatened several times.

His opponent was formidable, but it wasn’t just him that was the problem.

Krung!

A foul-smelling beast lunged at him without pause.

Circling around him, it kept trying to exploit openings, baring its fangs.

In the end, it bit one of his arms, and the Madman of Immortality took the opportunity to thrust his spear with both hands.

Rem, with the wolf still clinging to him, swung his axe.

He struck the spear that drew a large arc above his head, altering its trajectory.

Even though he struck hard, one of the spears grazed his side deeply.

Tears welled up, and his whole body shivered from the pain.

It struck near his broken rib.

The Madman of Immortality had intentionally put more force into one of the two spears, and though Rem was hit, he didn’t stop.

With the axe in one hand, he smashed the wolf’s skull with his remaining fist, then continued to deflect and evade the incoming spear thrusts.

Without a moment to catch his breath, he moved frantically.

In the midst of it all, something sticky grabbed at his feet.

‘Oh, come on?’ It was a sticky sorcery.

Seriously, he’s even doing this?

Indeed, they say an old fox is the hardest to catch.

The Madman of Immortality was proving that right.

Among prey, the cunning ones were always the most troublesome.

Rem focused his strength in his thigh.

Sticky sorcery or whatever, it must be spread out over a certain area.

Bang!

He kicked off the ground, flying to the side as he swung his axe.

With that, he killed three of the beasts that were targeting him.

To be precise, he split the neck and chest of two of them, and the third had its forehead struck.

Rem envisioned a rough fight to continue after this.

But here, he felt both disappointment and the chance to seize victory.

Because the Madman of Immortality retreated.

He pulled back.

He leaped backward.

The subsequent attacks felt half-hearted.

Considering he’d already been blocking the spear thrusts wielded directly by the madman.

And then, he used that trick again at the last moment-a spear connected with a thread.

‘Oh, you bastard.’ The excitement that had been boiling over suddenly cooled.

Bang!

When Rem struck the spear away with the flat of his axe, he saw the retreating figure of his senior.

The spear twirled through the air as it flew back.

The man shouted.  “Next time we meet, you will definitely die.” ‘Yeah, right.

Who’s really going to die next time, me or you?’ With a grim face, Rem brought his axe down vertically on the head of the approaching beast.

Bang!

The axe split the beast’s head and its body was severed vertically.

“Damn, I get it.

You’ve survived this long by running away when things got tough.” Should he chase after him and kill him?

He could, but it felt like a hassle.

The thrill was gone.

He wasn’t in the mood anymore.

For Rem, it was just a matter of losing his excitement.

But for the Wolf Bishop, it was a completely different story.

“Hey!

Where are you going!” He was so shocked that he couldn’t even hide his disbelief.

The normally fierce expression of the wolf turned to one of panic.

Even Teresa could see how rattled he was.

He was so surprised that when he opened his mouth to speak, the wound on his head, which he had just managed to close with his hand, burst open again, and blood started to flow.

The dark red blood trickled down his cheek and dripped onto the ground from his chin.

There was no response.

The Madman of Immortality simply ran away.

Not even a word of apology.

Though, even if he had apologized, the Bishop’s blood pressure would have soared, making the blood from his head fountain like a geyser.

“Bishop Brother, it’s time to go.” The Bishop frowned at the title as he turned around.

There stood a limping half-blood Giant.

Her shield was half broken, and her sword had a crack in the middle.

“You heretical bitch.

I’ll curse you even in death.” The Wolf Bishop cursed.

He felt wronged.

This was supposed to be a winning fight.

No matter how impressive the opponent was, with the Madman of Immortality renowned across the continent and himself, a Bishop of the Cult, they should have been victorious.

And they had even brought along the Dire Wolf, his soul’s companion.

Yet, what was this outcome?

He should have easily defeated someone like Teresa.

But no, it had gone wrong.

The Bishop did not sigh or look to the heavens.

Instead, he muttered his final curse with deep resentment.

“Damn bastards.” He could feel the death of the Dire Wolf, the creature bound to his soul.

There was no hope left.

“I curse you all for life.

Your flesh will rot, and you will not find an easy death.

The Gods of the Demon Realm will not forgive you!

And you, Madman of Immortality, you will not be forgiven either!” His final curse was directed at his former comrade.

The thought of the one who was supposed to fight alongside him fleeing, turned his stomach.

“Yes.

Go soak yourself in the river of hell.

I’ll see you there later.” “Fine!” Teresa finally crushed the Bishop’s skull.

The finishing blow came from the pommel of her broken sword.

When Teresa, her bloodstained mask readjusted, rose to her feet, she saw Rem limping towards her.

“You’re here?” “Of course, I’m here.

Where else would I be?

Where’s the Captain?” There was no beautiful scene of them supporting each other.

The two just trudged along.

Neither of them was in great shape, but they weren’t on the verge of death either.

Helping each other?

Not a chance.

A wild horse approached them from the side.

“Did you fight too?” Neigh!

At the reply from the odd-eyed horse, Rem pursed his lips.

“Even a damn horse fought, but a human bastard ran away.” He was still full of complaints.

The excitement he had been feeling had vanished.

Such experiences were rare, especially since his opponent had been from the same race and had the upper hand.

‘We’ll definitely meet again, old man.’ Rem made a vow.

And there were others who had witnessed their fight.

The Heavy Infantry and cavalry units.

The mercenary leading the cavalry suddenly realized his own position.

‘Let’s not mess with them.’ Never complain about the difficulty of training again.

If you challenge them, you’ll die.

That’s certain.

He could tell from watching them fight the enemy.

He should also be careful of that large woman who seemed so calm.

He had never underestimated her before, but now he saw her in a new light.

In the past, people might have recoiled in fear after witnessing a fight like Rem and Teresa’s.

That happened often.

Their overwhelming power made it seem like they weren’t even human.

While there was relief that they were on the same side, there was still a sense of distance.

They even inspired a sort of fear among their allies.

But this time was different.

Both of them were limping.

The horse walking with them looked the most unscathed.

If it weren’t for those two, they might have been massacred.

A rush of emotions-relief, joy, exhilaration, and the euphoria of victory-washed over everyone.

“The Madmen Platoon.” “Rem, the axe-wielder Rem.” “Crazy Axe Rem.” “He’s not dead.” “He’s not dead.” “Immortal Rem?” Someone’s mutterings quickly turned into a nickname.

During this process, Rem scratched his ears.

What are they saying?

The soldiers soon began to shout in unison.

“Immortal Rem!” They thought he was dead, but he had returned and driven off the enemy.

It was a significant improvement from his previous nickname, “Rem the ill-tempered”.

“Immortal Rem!

The undying Rem!” “The undying madman!” “Uraaaah!” Most of the beasts had already been slain.

This had been the most advantageous battlefield.

The remaining beasts scattered after the Dire Wolf and the Bishop’s deaths.

Without a focal point, the beasts had no reason to stay together.

The soldiers cheered and shouted as they moved towards the center of the battlefield.

“Man, they’re annoyingly loud.” Rem kept scratching his ears.

“Wandering Teresa!” The soldiers began chanting the identity that Teresa often mentioned herself.

With one hand holding her mask in place, she raised the other hand.

She wanted to do it.

It was a spontaneous act driven by emotion.

Back when she was with the Cult, she had been so stoic that she sometimes went an entire week without speaking, but that wasn’t the case anymore.

“I am Teresa The Wanderer.” Things were different here.

She had changed.

After discovering joy and happiness, everything looked different.

“Wandering Teresa!” Her murmuring was echoed by everyone in a unified chorus.

It sounded rather nice.

“What are you doing?

Immortal Rem!” Rem, perhaps out of spite, chimed in.

And of course, the soldiers joined in and echoed him.

“Immortal Rem!” It was a childish act.

In any case, they walked towards where Encrid, Ragna, and Audin were waiting.

Ragna seemed relatively fine, but Audin was not.

His body was covered in small wounds, and his left arm was hanging limp.

Was it broken?

“I slipped up.

I couldn’t go all out just to take down a single dog, so Brother here took quite a few hits.” “Yeah, I just brushed it off.

I was being respectful to the elderly.” Teresa remained silent.

Ragna stared at them blankly before speaking.

“They’re all so weak.

If you keep bringing along such people, they’ll just be a burden, Captain.” “…Damn it, why did I save him?” Rem grumbled, while Audin smiled and clenched his fist.

“It seems Brother is eager to meet the embrace of God.” Watching this, Encrid ran a hand through his hair.

It was all nonsense.

Then he looked at Rem and spoke.

“Stop messing around.” “Why?

Did you get beaten up because I wasn’t here?” “Wasn’t it you who got beaten up?” “I went easy on him because he’s old.” “Is that so.” “What?

But why did it all end right after I got back?

I was just about to start having some fun.” With that body?

Encrid’s expression seemed to say.

He was expressionless, but it was clear.

Rem shouted out loud.

“Don’t you know me?

This is just the beginning!

Do you not know who I am?” As he spoke, he spread his hand behind him.

A few quick-witted officers immediately shouted out.

“Immortal Rem!” Hearing this, others followed suit, shouting again.

“Immortal Rem!” Oh, they’re really getting into it.

Encrid chuckled and shook his head.

“The enemy lines are acting strangely.” Graham’s adjutant spoke up amidst the commotion.

Encrid responded without even looking at him.

“That’s the work of one of our men.” “Who?” What was the point of asking?

It was Jaxon.

He could have killed Viscount Tarnin long ago, but he waited for the right moment.

When would be the most effective time to kill him?

Jaxon was clever.

Would the battle end immediately just because the enemy Commander was dead?

No, there were still others left.

Among them were several skilled mercenaries.

Compared to Encrid and the Madmen Platoon, they might not seem like much, but by normal standards, they were far more powerful than regular soldiers.

They thought: ‘The advantage is ours.’ If they could keep Viscount Tarnin alive and retreat, they could maintain their position of strength.

Some of them were even aware of Aspen’s presence.

They planned to retreat and let the Border Guard Direct Unit deal with Aspen.

They could start a territorial war later on.

The smart ones had made up their minds.

They intended to find the Viscount first, but…

Viscount Tarnin’s head was already hanging from a pole.

“…When the hell did that pig die?” The clever mercenary was baffled.

And he was out of luck too.

Jaxon didn’t even need to use a magical artifact to conceal his presence.

He simply disguised himself in enemy attire and scouted the area.

He identified those who could potentially regroup the troops and gifted them with a red necklace.

The same gift was given to that clever mercenary whose name Jaxon didn’t even know.

A peculiar dagger, dull on the outside edge but sharp on the inside, was placed against his neck and pulled.

It was over in an instant.

The mercenary, shocked, tried to grab his wrist, but Jaxon’s right hand made an arc, slicing through his neck.

The drawn blade left a red necklace behind, and the mercenary bled profusely as he died.

That made seven kills so far.

That was enough.

Jaxon then quietly slipped away.

Thinking that the Captain couldn’t have possibly died just because he left for a moment, he returned to the group.

He saw Encrid, and beside him, there was what appeared to be a ghost.

“A ghost, huh?

We should perform an exorcism.

A few daggers should do the trick.” “…Why does it feel like that stray cat bastard is talking about me?”  Said the ghostly barbarian.

Jaxon once again strongly suggested exorcising the ghost, but it didn’t work.

Instead, he only received a blessing from the mad barbarian wielding an axe.

“Why don’t you just drop dead, go off and die yourself.” He ignored the comment.

He had done his job, and the Captain was unharmed.

“I really thought I was going to die this time.”  Krais said.

Encrid looked at the big-eyed soldier with indifference.

Krais, who hadn’t slept properly in days, smiled.

“Lucky, really lucky.

It’s as if the Goddess of luck herself kissed me.” The kiss of the Goddess brings good fortune, after all.

As Krais spoke, white snow began to fall heavily over his head.

It started near the end of the battle, as the sleet turned into a steady snowfall.

“Do you like this?”  Rem said grumpily.

The devil’s dandruff was falling in a relentless torrent.

Jaxon and Audin shared a similar look, but Encrid didn’t.

He understood immediately.

“The Captain is definitely sharp.”  Krais said, to which Rem angrily muttered,  “Right, let’s gouge out those eyes today.”  But it was just a minor outburst.

The snow was pouring down.

Even those who had been in the thick of the battle had to reorganize their ranks.

In other words, “We’ve bought ourselves some time.” Krais voiced what everyone was thinking.

The heavy snowfall was a stroke of luck that would slow down Aspen’s movements.

It bought them time to recover and regroup.