A Knight Who Eternally Regresses - Chapter 308

Chapter 308: CHAPTER 306
It was hard to tell if it was good luck or bad, but the sky was too clear. The wind wasn’t blowing much, either.

For winter, the days were unusually warm.

The snow that had fallen earlier had melted away completely.

Not that Green Pearl was a place where snow piled up often, unlike the Pen-Hanil Mountains, which were always covered in white.

In short, it was disgustingly good weather to fight in. It felt like even the sky was pushing them toward battle.

“The enemy is right in front of us.”

That was the message from the messenger.

At that moment, Encrid was still walking casually among the regular soldiers.

“Meet them at the palisade! Everyone, move out!”

At the Commander’s call, Encrid moved as well.

“Aren’t you supposed to go back to your position?”

Helma turned her head. She was speaking to Encrid, who had fallen in beside her. She was in the middle of grabbing her buckler and spear.

Encrid casually matched her pace and responded.

“It’s fine.”

Helma blinked.

What did he mean by ‘fine’?

But he could fight, at least a little.

Usually, people who looked that soft couldn’t fight worth a damn.

Helma, having only known Encrid for two days, found herself worrying about him.

“If your superior finds out, you’ll get your nose broken.”

Encrid gave another offhand response to her words.

“I’ve got permission.”

It was as if he had just asked and answered himself. So, to him, it was the same as having permission. Besides, it was a pre-arranged action.

What kind of variables would he create on the battlefield?

There was only one thing Encrid could do.

“Hey, if you’re going to do that, why not just take the front?”

One of the soldiers grumbled indifferently.

That guy had been complaining since earlier.

Although he seemed to harbor some strange resentment, Encrid didn’t care.

Considering that they’d soon be fighting together, this kind of whining was, honestly, rather cute.

Compared to Rem, it was nothing more than a child’s tantrum.

“Sure.”

He replied and kept walking. He was already heading forward anyway.

Helma, who seemed to be part of the vanguard as well, moved her steps in that direction.

“Hey, mind your own business.”

Helma shot back at the soldier behind her.

The soldier had no response.

He hadn’t expected him to actually go.

In the meantime, Encrid had roughly gauged the level of the soldiers.

Though Rem had been utterly useless, based on Naurillia’s soldier rankings, there were still a few soldiers here at the upper level.

Helma was at least mid-tier. The overall force wasn’t as bad as he’d thought.

Most were close to the lower tier, with infantry and archers being the only units. However, their discipline was excellent.

They had raised horses, but there were no cavalry. Instead, wagons had been prepared for the supply routes, the rear in particular.

Naturally, they had packed supplies there.

‘They’ve prepared to run if things go south.’

Whether they became war criminals or fugitives, they wouldn’t die here in vain.

Neither I nor my subordinates will allow that.

It was a formation and preparation that echoed Garrett’s voice.

Encrid liked that.

As he walked, he casually swung his arms.

The pain was minimal. His right arm had recovered decently, and his left shin was fine now.

The wounds he’d suffered here and there were now just scars. When Jaxon had seen him, he said there wouldn’t be any scars on his face.

However, he would still be left with scars on his shin, arms, and body.

After hearing that, Krais had made another ridiculous remark.

“Even if a facial scar wouldn’t be bad, it’s still better not to have one.”

He was determined to drag Encrid to the salon.

What a ridiculous guy.

Encrid moved around, feeling the texture of the soft armor wrapped around his shoulders, chest, and thighs.

Even though it was just thin leather armor, it felt stiff. Since he had a thin gambeson underneath, it felt stuffy, too.

Taking it off would make him cold and reduce his defense.

A little discomfort would only help with defense.

“You’re going in with three swords? Seriously, if you fight from the front, you’re dead meat.”

Helma spoke with concern. She was a good-natured friend.

Just as she was about to say something, Jaxon approached. No, he appeared—suddenly.

Encrid had sensed him with his sharp instincts, but Helma hadn’t.

“I brought them.”

Helma jumped, startled. It was as if the man had suddenly sprung up from the ground.

He was wearing a thin hat instead of a helmet, and a blonde man beside him, constantly adjusting his leather helmet, joined them.

“You’re here?”

“Yes.”

“What about Dunbachel?”

“Big Eyes has hidden her with Sinar. He said we need to keep the card concealed.”

“Oh, really?”

It was a trivial conversation. Helma didn’t fully understand.

However, she realized that the man before her was not just an ordinary person.

Actually, she had known that for some time, but it was only now becoming clear. He had drawn attention from the start.

This was the same man who had moved around the camp as if the tension in the air didn’t bother him at all.

Encrid didn’t seem to notice Helma’s gaze.

He was focused on the task at hand.

What was needed was a variable.

Something the enemy wouldn’t expect.

Encrid decided to begin with the first strike of the battle.

Krais had agreed to it as well.

It was a method that had worked well so far.

An unexpected strike would reveal how the enemy responded. From there, they could uncover some of the cards the enemy had hidden.

It didn’t matter if they couldn’t see everything. Even glimpsing part of it would allow them to predict what came next.

That would be a complete change from the current situation, where they knew nothing.

‘Oh, please.’

Krais was battling his own ominous thoughts.

Encrid remained calm.

‘There are quite a few.’

Even as the enemy approached, he didn’t feel overly tense.

In fact, he didn’t think it was all that dangerous.

Whatever the enemy had prepared, it seemed manageable.

His instincts, which usually warned him of danger, were quiet, and his physical condition was better than expected.

His right arm had recovered more than halfway.

‘This is good.’

It really wasn’t bad at all.

“Whaaaaaa!”

The war cries broke through the air as the enemy forces advanced. Aspen’s army continued their slow, steady march.

As soon as the enemy came within range of the arrows, the allied forces released their bows first.

Whizz!

The arrows sliced through the air, marking the start of the battle.

Aspen’s army fired back. A black rain of arrows began to fall overhead.

It was the most routine beginning of a battle.

“Hold!”

“Raise your shields! Don’t lower them!”

“Argh!”

“You idiot!”

Arrows fired in a high arc hung in the sky like black dots before raining down. One unlucky soldier got struck in the shoulder by an arrow.

A comrade dragged the injured soldier down while another soldier raised a shield over them.

They worked well together, not bad at all. They were well-trained.

Still, it wasn’t enough.

Compared to the Border Guard Reserve Unit, which had been brought in as reinforcements, they were weaker. It was like comparing solid stone to hardened clay.

‘Their training needs to be more rigorous.’

Encrid made a mental note to plan a training schedule for those who survived today.

It was a random thought, but not a bad one. Thinking about the future, planning for what’s next—these things always helped.

This kind of thinking was also part of being prepared.

It was about focusing the mind.

Preparation wasn’t just about adjusting your sword belt or gripping your weapon properly.

Encrid easily dodged the incoming arrows.

If he could dodge daggers thrown at him at point-blank range, this was nothing.

He hadn’t brought a shield either. Being fully armed was important, but—

‘Right now, just the three swords.’

That seemed to be the better option.

Glancing to the side, Ragna was dodging arrows without even looking, effortlessly widening the distance between him and the enemy. Jaxon had already disappeared.

‘He’ll manage just fine.’

There was no reason to worry about Jaxon. He would be fine.

Encrid focused solely on his own task.

“Hoo.”

He steadied his breathing. It didn’t matter what battlefield he was on, who the enemy was, or how good his current condition was.

Danger was always present, and ignoring threats could lead to disaster.

As always, Encrid brought out his best effort.

He started with one sword held in both hands.

Shhhk.

The steel sword, gleaming with a faint blue hue, slid out of its scabbard. He raised the sword to catch the brilliant winter sunlight.

Though it had lost a few teeth, it was still sturdy.

Even with all the maintenance he had done, it still looked worn. He had used it far too harshly.

It was a good sword, and that was why it had held up so well. If it had been an ordinary steel sword, it would’ve broken long ago.

A good sword is always the right choice.

‘Just one more time.’

Encrid spoke to his sword. He would send it off properly when it was time to retire it, but not now.

The advancing forces of both armies were slowly closing the distance.

Encrid moved with them, steadily walking forward. He had no hesitation. A half-step ahead of his allies, then breaking from their formation and moving even further ahead. One step, two steps—the gap between him and the rest of the army widened quickly.

It was only natural that he appeared to be charging ahead alone.

“Hey! Where are you going?”

Someone shouted from behind. It sounded like the grumbling soldier from earlier.

“You crazy bastard! Hey!”

He ignored them. Now was the time to draw everyone’s attention.

“Shake them with the first strike.”

Even though Krais had requested it, Encrid’s heart had already started boiling with anticipation.

What had they prepared?

Was it Knights? Magic swords? Magic? Sorcery? Had they brought a Knight or two?

If not, how would they stop him?

These scattered thoughts briefly crossed his mind as Encrid stepped onto the frozen, arrow-pierced ground and advanced toward the enemy.

Since he was the fastest, he was the first.

“You crazy bastard!”

A nervous enemy soldier thrust a spear at him.

Encrid changed his pace.

He lowered his thighs and sped up. The enemy soldier couldn’t keep up with the sudden shift in speed, and before he could react, Encrid’s foot connected with the man’s shin.

With the momentum of his run, the kick landed directly.

Crack, snap!

The bone shattered with a single blow, and the enemy soldier’s body was lifted into the air before crashing to the ground.

“Aargh!”

Leaving the scream behind, Encrid drove his elbow into the head of the soldier next to him. It happened almost simultaneously—kick and elbow.

“Urk!”

A death rattle echoed.

Crack!

The struck soldier’s neck bone snapped with a sickening crunch, and blood flowed from between the helmet as his skull was crushed in one blow.

Only then did Encrid swing his sword. Pivoting on his left foot, he swung it from his right side to his upper left.

The heavy blade cut through the air in a diagonal arc. It was the Middle Sword Technique’s rotating slash.

Encrid added his own variation to it.

Using the force of the swing, he shifted his pivot from his left foot to his right. As he shifted, he brought the sword down from the upper left, then swung it from the lower left to the upper right.

His left and right feet crossed, and during that movement, the blade traced the shape of an infinity symbol.

Anything caught in the sword’s path was broken and destroyed. Things were cut, slashed, and sent flying.

“Gaaah!”

“Ugh!”

The ones screaming were those unfortunate enough to survive the initial blow.

For those whose necks or heads were caught by the blade’s trajectory, it was the end.

With two powerful slashes, nine enemy soldiers fell dead.

Because he had alternated his footing and moved from side to side, the range of his sword was wide.

“Kill him!”

An enemy Commander nearby, his eyes bloodshot, shouted.

Even seeing this, he didn’t retreat but gritted his teeth instead.

‘They’re more disciplined than our forces.’

The enemy’s training, the quality of their soldiers, and even their Commanders’ capabilities were superior. Encrid, focused on fighting, couldn’t assess everything at once.

But his instincts told him: He needed to kill that Commander.

He realized instinctively that doing so would increase their chances of victory.

As he advanced again, spearheads closed in from all directions.

Long spears thrust at him over and over.

Encrid deflected what needed deflecting and dodged what needed dodging.

It was like cutting his way through a forest of spearheads. Eventually, he reached the Commander’s close range and delivered a downward slash to the top of his head.

Using the technique of a clean, cutting strike, the Commander’s head didn’t just split—it burst apart with a sickening ‘thud’.

It was a result of Encrid’s overwhelming strength.

As the blade struck the helmet and passed through, the shattered skull pierced through the scalp. Blood and brain matter naturally flowed out.

“Hah…”

As Encrid swung his sword in a wide arc to intimidate, the enemy soldiers hesitated.

He took a breath and unleashed the Heart of Great Strength. It wasn’t a limitless power, but now was the time to pierce, strike, slash, and crush.

“What the hell is this?!”

An enemy soldier let out a cry, but Encrid’s blade didn’t stop. He was like the Grim Reaper, a harvester of lives as he weaved through the enemy ranks.

“He’s insane!”

Another enemy soldier shouted, but it was a meaningless cry. There was no hesitation in Encrid’s blade.

As he cut down dozens alone, the enemy’s formation naturally began to crumble.

“Are you just going to stand there and watch?!”

The enemy Commander shouted loudly, prompting someone to step forward.

If they left him unchecked, their entire formation and ranks would be shattered.

A warrior from the Aspen side, who had been steadying his breath, stepped forward.

He advanced toward Encrid but then stopped.

The man assessed Encrid’s skill.

‘Middle Sword Technique.’

A fighting style that focuses on heavy, powerful strikes while disregarding minor attacks.

Assessment complete. Time to fight.

The man moved forward as well.