A Knight Who Eternally Regresses - Chapter 425

Chapter 425: CHAPTER 423
“Why?”

The voice came from the hood, the eyes inside wildly trembling with madness. The person was so shocked that their breathing had become rough.

The hand that was grasping trembled incessantly.

Clearly, hw was in a lot of pain.

“The clinic is that way.”

Encrid spoke politely, seeing that the person was obviously elderly.

They seemed to be someone whose illness had affected their mind as well. At least, that’s how he appeared to him.

A nearby shoemaker glared fiercely at him, but the Apostle of Curses didn’t even notice the look.

The situation was so unexpected that he almost forgot to breathe.

“Why?”

The question came out again, almost involuntarily. To Encrid, it was a question that made no sense.

There seemed to be some kind of strange energy emanating from the person’s body, but it didn’t feel particularly threatening.

The Apostle of Curses felt like he was throwing a handful of salt into the sea.

The curse dispersed into the air and vanished.

What is this? Is this a dream? This doesn’t make any sense.

“Are you alright?”

Encrid asked kindly once more, as the person seemed to be mentally unstable.

At Encrid’s calm demeanor, Reddit felt his breath catch.

The fact that the curse didn’t work caused the celestial curse afflicting him to trigger. His concentration broke due to the shock, leading to a panic attack.

“Ugh, ugh!”

Reddit collapsed, foaming at the mouth.

“Healer!”

Encrid shouted. As soon as the shout left his mouth, a large figure quickly approached from behind.

It was Audin. His body seemed to grow larger with each step, matching his quick approach. If he were an enemy, just watching him come closer would be enough to make anyone’s legs tremble.

“General Brother.”

Audin, who had arrived, frowned upon seeing the collapsed Reddit. It was an expression rarely seen on his face.

“Ah, he’s dead.”

Encrid stopped calling for a healer and instead confirmed that the man had stopped breathing.

Reddit was dead. He had been a feared assassin of the Sacred Cult of Demon Realm, one who had spent over twenty years killing those who stood in his way with curses.

But at this moment, only two people could even begin to speculate about what had just happened.

One was, of course, Audin.

‘Lord?’

Even Audin was surprised and asked himself. The person before them was clearly a terrifying curse user, yet the one who should have been affected was perfectly fine.

It was obvious that the General Brother had not been harmed at all.

Also watching from a few steps away was a black panther.

Esther had sensed the extreme malice and had followed it to its source, observing the situation.

‘A natural-born curse master.’

Esther recognized the person but knew that their curse wouldn’t affect Encrid.

She was a fire witch and an exceptionally talented wizard.

Whatever was entwined with Encrid’s body, it had even shaken the curse on her own.

So it was only natural that the curse didn’t work on him.

A curse always crumbles before a greater curse.

“Grrrrr.”

Esther snorted and turned towards the barracks.

Recently, she had been working harder than ever to restore the world of spells, so she was very tired.

* * *

The ferryman clicked his tongue at the inevitable outcome.

“Tch!”

In this world, there are things that cannot be dealt with unless prepared, and there are things that can be overcome even if unprepared.

The latter is only possible through constant study and training.

For example, dodging an arrow suddenly shot at you requires being perpetually prepared.

“Isn’t it natural to avoid dying from a blind arrow?”

That was how Rem would put it. Encrid had also trained to dodge Jaxon’s dagger within ten paces for that very reason.

Sometimes he did it, sometimes he didn’t, depending on the situation, but he had always prepared.

So, was today’s curse one of those situations?

No, it was neither the former nor the latter.

One thing the ferryman knew, which Encrid did not, was that a curse meant nothing before a greater force.

The curse that repeats this day was more malevolent than any other, including the ferryman’s own existence.

Moreover, a curse fundamentally targets the weak-willed.

A curse like the straw doll curse, which causes pain from a distance, works on some but not others because of the difference in their fortitude.

To put it another way,

‘It’s a difference in willpower.’

The ferryman had seen that Encrid’s resolve was beyond tough, it was at a level that bordered on madness.

It wasn’t just strong willpower—it was the will of madness.

For someone like him, an ordinary curse would hardly work.

This was the reason why curses often didn’t work on Knights in the first place.

They used mysticism based on willpower, known as Will.

Of course, the ferryman, who was shocked by the incredible level of the curse from the now-dead man, knew this well.

‘He was up against the wrong person.’

It was a matter of affinity.

To someone like Encrid, curses were less than a mosquito bite, perhaps even less bothersome than a fly. Therefore, he didn’t feel any sense of danger, and his sixth sense or intuition didn’t even activate.

Instinctively, he knew the other person wasn’t a threat.

“Did he just kill a man with a look?”

A passing city dweller made a comment, full of misunderstanding.

“Does it make any sense to kill someone with just a look?”

Another person nearby scolded him for speaking nonsense.

No one knew that the Apostle of the Sacred Cult, who had lived by killing with curses—killing with nothing but a glance—had died so miserably.

It was a truly futile death.

If he had instead cursed the entire city or targeted someone other than Encrid, it might have been more effective.

But now, it was too late.

A healer came to check if he had died from an infectious disease, and some citizens avoided the body after seeing its blistered skin.

Without even realizing it, Encrid had become the greatest enemy of the Cult.

* * *

“Come at me.”

Rem spoke, and Encrid, having returned to the Border Guard, was about to demonstrate something he had been working on tirelessly.

Encrid raised Aker. The tip of the sword pointed diagonally towards the sky.

Rem steadied his breathing.

‘If I go easy on him, I’ll be the one who dies.’

He licked his dry lips, wondering how Encrid had caught up to him so quickly.

The weather was crazy—if only it would rain heavily, things might be better, but instead, it was just a muggy, oppressive heat.

Even just standing still, sweat poured down in streams.

It was a stifling, sticky kind of weather.

For a moment, Rem forgot about the discomfort.

The pressure emanating from Encrid made his entire body break out in goosebumps.

It was a windless day. Even the dust lay still, clinging to the ground of the training yard.

All the nearby soldiers naturally became spectators.

No one dared to take a deep breath as they watched.

Encrid moved first.

From his ready stance, his shoulder lifted slightly, and then the sword moved.

‘He’s fast.’

Ragna, who was watching, noticed that a portion of his own quick and heavy swordsmanship was reflected in that single strike.

Sinar, who had come to watch, saw the precision of finely controlled swordplay.

Audin observed traces of the close-quarter strike technique he had taught.

Encrid was simply swinging his sword with intense focus.

What is Will? It is willpower.

What is willpower? It is the desire to accomplish something.

‘A burst of power in an instant.’

He condensed his muscles, then unleashed them, adding a burst of acceleration to amplify his strength. He also incorporated the pressure learned from the Middle Sword Technique he had studied from the Crushing Sword.

In Rem’s eyes, it seemed like Encrid’s entire body was brimming with explosive energy.

The force behind that strike was impossible to ignore.

Rem also activated the Heart of Great Strength. With the muscle power that could match a real Giant, Rem swung his axes.

While Encrid took a step forward and swung his sword downward, Rem crossed his axes and swung them upwards from below.

Light weapons are generally difficult to imbue with destructive power, but not for Rem.

The weapons he originally used were already this light.

In the moment when the two weapons clashed,

Clang!

With a thunderous sound, a shockwave rippled out in concentric circles.

It was a clash so intense that one would wonder who would be foolish enough to go all out in a mere sparring session.

The dust that had been lying flat on the ground was startled by the shockwave and scattered in all directions.

The two combatants stopped with their weapons still locked after exchanging a single strike.

In that moment, Rem asked,

“What was that?”

“A Giant’s Strike.”

“That’s a pretty generic name. Wouldn’t it be better to call it the Giant’s Last Ounce of Strength?”

Encrid wasn’t the kind to bark back at a barking dog, so he simply said what he had to say.

Rem had every right to feel aggrieved. Usually, even a Giant would have to exert their full strength to deliver such a strike.

“What about yours?”

“It’s called the Feather Axe.”

It was a name Encrid had never heard before. That was only natural since it was a Western technique translated into the local language of this continent.

Rem was amazed at how much Encrid had grown, while Encrid was equally impressed by Rem’s skill with the axes.

Rem had managed to block the Giant’s Strike by deftly maneuvering his axe blades, deflecting the force with his wrist strength.

It seemed like a full-force collision, but Rem had actually diverted and absorbed Encrid’s power with skillful technique.

It was an incredibly difficult technique to replicate, something that would be almost impossible to even imagine copying.

Most importantly, it was a technique Rem had never shown before.

“Did you create this?”

“I refined an existing one. There hadn’t been a weapon like this before, after all.”

Rem twirled his axe in his hand as he spoke.

He was referring to his weapon, which was both lightweight and durable, perfectly suited to his grip.

Encrid looked at the axe that had withstood Aker’s strike.

It was impressive that the blade wasn’t damaged in the least.

The craftsman sent by Krang had indeed made a proper weapon.

In fact, the craftsman had taken pride in creating two weapons and had even given them names, but the men who received them never bothered to use those names.

“Do you expect it to answer when you call its name?”

Rem had lightly dismissed the craftsman’s request.

The real reason was that the weapon wasn’t an heirloom passed down through generations, so he didn’t feel the need to treat it as such. But there was no need to go into that much detail.

Ragna, on the other hand, called his sword ‘Blackie’.

Had the craftsman heard that, he probably would have felt an overwhelming urge to bash Ragna’s head in with a hammer.

It was very much in Ragna’s nature to not care about anything other than swordsmanship.

Right after Rem stepped back, Ragna stepped forward.

“Now it’s Blackie’s turn.”

Ragna announced as he moved in.

This was a different kind of slugfest. The main difference now was that Encrid was no longer being overpowered one-sidedly.

Ragna watched as Encrid withstood even his Severing Will and shouted,

“Excellent!”

He was so excited that he unleashed his full talent.

“Let me borrow that move!”

Ragna replicated the sword technique Encrid had shown earlier, though he interpreted and executed it in his own way.

His talent was insane.

Encrid countered with the Giant Cleave technique he had learned from Rem.

It was a method of overcoming a massive strike by leveraging the Heart of Great Strength.

He repeated this three times.

“One more time.”

Actually, Encrid had requested it two more times.

He felt a stiffness in the motion of parrying and deflecting, and he knew that working on it would help him improve.

“You’ve improved a lot.”

Ragna said after they finished their sparring session.

Rem nodded in agreement.

Encrid calmly replied to them both,

“I’m still far from done.”

His goals were set too high.

Knowing that he wasn’t someone who would ever be satisfied, both of them took it in stride.

* * *

That evening, Rem remained alone in the training yard.

‘He’s catching up quickly.’

The Captain who once struggled and faltered, unable to even reach the Heart of the Beast, was gone.

Should he, too, retrieve what he had left behind in the West?

No, he wouldn’t do that.

He had resolved and vowed when he left.

“I will never seek this out again.”

Those were his own words when he departed.

‘Well, I’ll just do what I can.’

If he were to seriously employ sorcery, he would need to retrieve what he had left behind. However, that didn’t mean there was no way to improve without it.

To be honest, it was a roundabout method, and slow at that. But it wasn’t without results.

The axe made from Lewis Mountain steel would be helpful in that regard.

Lost in thought, Rem suddenly noticed a subtle presence passing by, drawing his gaze upward.

It was that sly alley cat on his way back.

Since the path connected to the training yard, it was only natural to see people coming and going.

“If you’re going to act like that, why not just settle down and start a family, you horny cat?”

Rem’s tongue moved reflexively, like a man who had wandered the desert for three days finally finding water.

Isn’t that someone you just have to insult when you see them?

Jaxon was on his way back after repeatedly trying to persuade a stubborn guild member.

One particularly obstinate individual had been getting on his nerves.

After surviving near-death experiences three times, shouldn’t one be convinced by now?

On edge, Jaxon immediately responded to Rem’s provocation.

“Is that something to come out of the mouth of a barbarian who’s probably never even held a woman’s wrist?”

“I’m already married.”

“I’d bet your middle thing there that’s a lie.”

Encrid’s knack for sharp words seemed to have rubbed off on the two.

“Alright, I’ll kill you. Come at me.”

Rem stood up. This was half an excuse to vent. The bitterness of past memories lingered in his mouth, and in times like these, you just have to beat up a sly alley cat.

Jaxon didn’t back down.

The two fought fiercely, and Jaxon, unlike before, brought out everything he had.

He used Will—though it was a completely different form from how a Knight would use it.

Rem realized he was losing.

There was no way Jaxon didn’t notice.

After gaining a decisive upper hand, Jaxon stopped and said,

“Go hang yourself and die.”

“What the hell did you just say?”

Rem responded angrily and made a decision.

He would have to visit the West.

Resolve? What did that matter?

It was already maddening enough that that bastard Ragna was strutting around, but now this sly alley cat too?

This was unbearable.

He resolved that he would definitely head to the West in the near future.