A Knight Who Eternally Regresses - Chapter 309

Chapter 309: CHAPTER 307
All eyes were on Encrid.

So then, what should he do?

He assessed the enemy soldiers.

To be precise, he read the entire mass of enemy troops with his senses.

There was no need to see everything with his eyes.

His trained senses allowed him to gauge his opponent’s skill just by listening.

The firm steps without hesitation, the confident shouts, the speed of their approach, and even the calm gaze in the midst of it all.

Jaxon, using his own method—different from Audin’s—sized up the enemy’s skill and slid his sword between the ranks.

A long blade emerged between the waists, thrusting forward.

“Kill them all!”

The first to fall was a brute wielding a heavy warhammer.

A hammer with a weighted end smashed against an ally’s shield.

The hammer was pulled back, recoiling from the force of the blow.

Thump.

The blade pierced through the hammer-wielder’s stomach.

A quick stab in, and out.

“Huh?”

What the hell is this?

What else could it be? A blade, of course.

From behind his shield, with icy eyes, Jaxon stared at the soldier.

Shhhkt.

The moment their eyes met, Jaxon’s snake-like curved blade slashed the hammer soldier’s throat.

This was a technique he had loosely interpreted after watching Encrid’s Fluid Sword Technique and adapting it to his own style.

If you looked at the trajectory of the sword, it was closer to a Technical Sword, so it was fair to say it differed from Encrid’s Fluid Sword Technique.

“Urgh…”

The soldier, who had been about to speak, grabbed his throat and fell backward.

Whether he foamed at the mouth or not, both the boots of his allies and enemies trampled over the fallen hammer soldier.

Jaxon kept repeating the same action.

He hid among his allies and stabbed whenever the opportunity arose.

He targeted only soldiers of superior rank.

Among them, he spared a few that caught his eye—those who seemed tricky to kill in a single strike.

Jaxon was meticulous in doing his job.

Though his allies didn’t realize what was happening, some Commanders noticed the strange flow of battle.

“Why does it feel like we’re winning?”

It was the Platoon leader of his allies who said this.

Hadn’t their forces been evenly matched?

Then why were they winning?

He couldn’t understand the reason.

But did it matter?

No.

“Fight! Push forward!”

The Commander did his job, shouting until his voice was hoarse.

“Stick together, don’t spread out!”

Infantry battles on the continent were fundamentally chaotic.

The more you stick together, the better. If you spread out, you were in danger.

The fight between the two armies followed this pattern.

The Border Guard Reserve Unit, which had come as reinforcements, was also fighting fiercely.

“They’re flanking! Don’t let those bastards through!”

“What doesn’t kill me…!”

“Makes me stronger!”

“Pain!”

“Strength!”

Those who had survived previous battles were all veterans now.

This was a unit of experienced soldiers.

Their quality was different from the battalion that had been stationed at Green Pearl.

They intercepted the enemy forces trying to flank to the right.

“It’s the Gray Hound!”

“Those persistent bastards!”

It was a unit well-known even to their allies.

They were attempting to flank, but the Border Guard Reserve Unit stood in their way.

“Crazy bastards.”

The Gray Hound was living up to its reputation.

Even though the Border Guard Reserve Unit had more numbers, it looked as though they were being pushed back.

But it didn’t matter.

There were others rampaging at the frontlines.

Encrid was tearing through enemies with his Middle Sword Technique, and Jaxon was hiding among the Green Pearl soldiers, killing only those who fought well or issued orders.

It was thanks to their efforts.

Originally, they should have been pushed back by the strong forces of Aspen, but strangely, the balance was maintained.

Ragna moved to Encrid’s left rear.

He intended to do his part by dealing with one enemy at a time.

Ragna was gradually stirring up his fighting spirit as he swung his sword.

It had been years since he had lived without such enthusiasm.

To truly get going, he still needed a reason.

Ragna was always slow to get started.

And then it happened.

He sensed a murderous intent from the left, and just as he felt it, a piece of metal flew past his face.

Ragna tilted his head back.

He barely managed to dodge it.

It was because his body was still warming up slowly.

The good thing was that, whether slow or fast, his body reacted instinctively to such attacks.

A drop of blood splattered from the blade that grazed his cheek.

The leather helmet covering his cheek was cut by the sharp blade, and the bottom part dangled loosely.

“You dodged that?”

The soldier who had thrust the sword retreated immediately.

Ragna recognized him at a glance.

‘A skilled one.’

He didn’t know why, but the feeling was pleasant.

Hadn’t he been waiting for an opponent who would ignite his desires?

There was a longing that Encrid alone couldn’t satisfy.

Bloodshed and a life-or-death battle—that’s what Ragna wanted right now.

There was no need to search for a path.

Therefore, there was no reason to lose his way.

All he had to do was chase after the back of the retreating enemy.

Ragna took off his uncomfortable helmet and threw it aside.

After taking a few steps forward, an enemy soldier holding a short sword blocked his way.

“You bastard!”

Where could the soldier who landed a blow on him retreat to?

Back to his allies, of course.

As Ragna pursued him, it meant he was naturally pushing deep into the enemy lines.

The enemy soldiers reacted.

But Ragna reacted faster.

As he moved forward, he stabbed and withdrew his sword.

Thump.

With a single thrust, he pierced the enemy’s throat, leaving a gaping hole.

The soldier’s body leaned forward as if the strength in his spear still lingered, then he collapsed.

While that one fell, Ragna cut down five more as he pushed through the enemy ranks.

It was a reckless charge, but it had the effect of disrupting the enemy’s formation into chaos.

Thus, the allied Commanders nearby once again felt the battle becoming oddly easier.

‘Is this going to be simple?’

The preparations they had made for a retreat in case things went wrong now seemed unnecessary.

“Fight! Fight and kill them all!”

The formation had long since fallen apart.

In this chaotic skirmish, the more they killed, the better.

The enemy Commander knew this well and shouted relentlessly.

“Pain is…!”

It was a chant that had spread among them before anyone realized it.

“Commander, our troops are being pushed back.”

Hearing his adjutant’s words, Avnair smiled.

Things were going according to plan, so how could he not smile?

“Just as planned.”

The adjutant bit his lip.

He couldn’t understand this operation.

Wouldn’t success be the same as failure in this case?

“I’m going to be remembered as the biggest fool who killed a thousand soldiers.”

Avnair said.

“Is this really the right move?”

“Without a doubt.”

There was not a hint of hesitation. The voice of a genius was clear and unwavering.

The adjutant lowered his head.

At this point, there was no stopping him.

‘Now, show me what you’ve been hiding.’

Krais kept his eyes on the enemy’s movements.

They were bound to do something.

Wasn’t Encrid rampaging like that?

Thanks to Jaxon, the momentum of the enemy soldiers had been drastically weakened.

Meanwhile, Ragna was headed somewhere unknown.

‘This isn’t over yet, is it?’

Sinar and Dunbachel had been kept in reserve as their trump cards.

The rule was that you never reveal all your cards until you’ve seen all of your opponent’s.

“Big Eyes, I want to fight.”

Dunbachel said, placing her hand on the hilt of her scimitar as she nudged Krais in the ribs.

“Wait.”

“Am I a dog? You tell me to wait, and I’ll just wait?”

Next to her, Sinar stood silently with her arms crossed, her eyes half-closed.

“Try to calm down, like the Fairy Company Commander over here.”

“I’m a human, not a Fairy, am I?”

Even while soothing Dunbachel, Krais’s eyes never left the battlefield.

The battlefield as a whole was balanced in a strange way, but in the individual skirmishes, the odds were tilting in their favor.

In the end, those small victories would pile up and lead to an overall win.

This was the picture Krais had drawn.

He had ensured that variables wouldn’t just remain variables but would affect the entire battlefield.

If the enemy did make a move, he had already prepared ways to retreat and buy time. But there has been no need to use them so far.

That’s how things stood.

So why was Aspen just sitting back and watching?

Why weren’t they playing their hidden hand?

There was definitely something there—something was clearly in play.

If not, why would they have advanced so slowly and started this fight at the tail end of winter?

‘Is there no hidden card? Are they just idiots?’

Of course not.

“Messenger! Messenger!”

A messenger came charging from the back.

Krais had deliberately pulled Nurat, who led a sharp-eyed and fast-moving unit, to the rear. Garrett had been left symbolically at the command post.

The true Battlefield Commander of the Green Pearl Battalion was Nurat.

She had sharp eyes and a keen mind.

And now, she had taken the appropriate action at just the right moment.

“Some of their forces are flanking us! It’s not a small number!”

As Krais received the report, a map of the battlefield floated through his mind.

The terrain he had memorized, the path of the enemy’s movements—what were they aiming for?

‘The Border Guard.’

They were aiming for the rear.

Some of their forces may have already broken through.

“To the rear!”

Dunbachel and Sinar began to move.

It was time to block the card the enemy had just played.

“The second flanking force has been discovered.”

“Good!”

At those words, Avnair clapped his hands together with a sharp ‘snap’.

Not everything can go according to plan.

The battlefield is a living thing.

But if you focus on just one goal…

‘That can still be achieved.’

The battlefield is ruled by a select few elites.

Avnair knew this saying well.

So, what happens if you kill those elites?

Talented individuals are limited.

They are not infinite.

How many geniuses arise in a single era?

Not many.

The fact that there aren’t many Knights is proof of that.

Therefore…

‘Give up one battlefield…’

And win the war.

Even if he ended up being called the greatest butcher or the most foolish Commander in history, Avnair would still laugh.

“Are the preparations complete?”

“They are finished.”

“Good, proceed.”

The adjutant bowed his head and withdrew.

* * *

As Krais had predicted, Avnair sent part of his cavalry toward the Border Guard.

“Enemy forces are approaching!”

Of course, the Border Guard had not been lax in their vigilance, so they were aware in advance.

Rem, who had been grumbling all day, suddenly shot up from his seat.

The news made him forget about the cold in an instant.

“Who’s here?”

Not even a long-lost lover after ten years of separation could bring him this much joy.

“Brother, if your heart is too impatient, you’ll step into a puddle and get your shoes wet.”

Audin said as he stepped forward from behind.

“You say that after leaving your own club behind?”

“Haha, brother. The Lord said that protecting oneself is the start of all things.”

It was a fitting attitude for a disciple of the God of war.

Wasn’t he basically saying he was ready to kill everything in sight?

Teresa, who had been about to stand up, stopped when she caught Audin’s gaze.

The injuries she had sustained from killing the Wolf Bishop were severe.

Fighting in her current state would only damage her body further.

Audin wasn’t going to let that happen.

“Sister, you will wait.”

“…Understood.”

Though deeply disappointed, Teresa held herself back.

Excited just like Rem, Audin went out to meet the enemy, but their expectations were not met.

“What is this?”

The situation was strange.

For a force supposedly attacking the walls, only a pitifully small cavalry unit could be seen.

And even then, they were hanging back, as if gauging the situation from a distance without committing to a full attack.

Rem waited for two days.

“These bastards.”

The enemy never attacked.

They only stalled for time.

It was a trick Avnair had pulled.

In the past, Marcus had pulled off a similar maneuver by pretending to head toward Cross Guard, a city in Aspen. Though the situation was different, the result was similar.

Avnair had tied down the Border Guard.

This small cavalry unit was too insignificant to attack the walls or cut off their supply lines.

In fact, Aspen’s cavalry was more desperate for supplies at this point.

And their numbers were not many either.

Upon closer inspection, Rem noticed that each cavalryman had two or three horses.

It was a unit full of bluff, using the extra horses to make themselves look bigger.

“Don’t you have anything better to do, you little punks?”

Rem was left frustrated, but Avnair had clearly achieved his goal.

He had temporarily blocked the route for reinforcements from the Border Guard.

He had bought himself a little time, and for Avnair, that was enough.

Meanwhile, Esther caught the scent of magic.

It was a rather powerful spell.

She followed the trail of that scent.

Crunch, crunch.

As she climbed a small hill, she spotted a group of people gathered there.

One of them locked eyes with her, glaring intensely.

“You.”

Galaf, a man who had claimed many titles in the world of sorcery, held the power to bend rivers. He was a sorcerer.

He was characterized by his short brown hair and delicate features.

No one knew his real age, but he had looked the same for the past ten years.

Some said he had drunk from the River of Life.

Of course, it was just a rumor.

Esther silently stared at him.

“They said you were ruined by a curse. Guess that was just a rumor.”

Galaf said, surprised to see Esther in human form.

Esther remained silent, only watching him.

She had sensed the traces of his magic and followed them here.

It had been by chance.

The flow of mana, and the traces of prepared spells, had caught her senses.

Was it the guidance of the stars or the call of fate?

She didn’t care.

She didn’t believe in Gods.

What she believed in was herself and her own mastery of magic.

She was a sorceress because she only trusted in what she had built.

“Master.”

One of Galaf’s disciples stepped forward.

He was known for training many disciples.

Even now, he had six with him.

“Leave.”

Galaf ordered, still observing Esther.

He could tell something just by looking.

‘The curse isn’t fully lifted.’

The witch couldn’t be at full strength.

“You’re the Witch of Struggle. Will you fight?”

Galaf asked.

He didn’t need to be here to complete the task he had prepared with his disciples.

There was no need to fight the witch unless necessary.

Esther didn’t know exactly what they were up to here, but it was clear that whatever it was would harm the nest she was in.

Otherwise, why would a sorcerer of this caliber be here?

The nest she was protecting… was Encrid.

Magic would be dangerous for him, too.

She had gained something by staying in this nest.

‘I should at least protect it.’

“D’muller’s Scythe.”

Esther said, reciting the incantation of a prepared spell instead of answering.

Following her fingertips, a vacuum-based slicing spell materialized and cut through the air.

It was one of her specialty spells, yet—

“Vartan’s Shield.”

A blue barrier rose to block the scythe’s wind.

The shield rippled like waves.

With the glowing blue dome between them, the two sorcerers opened their worlds of spells.