A Knight Who Eternally Regresses - Chapter 426

Chapter 426: CHAPTER 424
Just as Rem had resolved himself, others also experienced changes in their hearts.

There was no other choice.

“Ha!”

From morning till evening.

Whether it rained or snowed, whether the weather was sticky or not.

When you watch someone swinging their sword like a madman, it’s natural for various thoughts to come to mind.

If Rem’s determination was sparked by something.

Ragna, on the other hand, reflected on his own talents anew.

He looked inward with a contemplative mindset.

‘What do I possess?’

First and foremost, he had a talent for finding shortcuts. That talent was truly exceptional.

The ability to find a path wasn’t a skill that required others’ recognition.

‘Not that I’ll live as a guide, though.’

Ragna had actually worked as a guide before, but anyone who hired him even once was utterly horrified.

He fought extremely well, but couldn’t even tell north from south—a mad guide, indeed.

There were even misunderstandings that he deliberately sought out places where monsters or beasts would appear.

The Guide Guild would shudder just at the mention of the name Ragna.

Let’s set aside the talent for guiding.

‘What’s next?’

The sword. Swordsmanship. A natural talent, something that doesn’t disappear and something you can recognize without being told.

Like his talent for guiding, he also had some talent with the sword.

‘Then what’s lacking?’

Knowing what he was good at was enough.

Even if he was flawless as a guide, his swordsmanship was not.

If he had no flaws and nothing holding him back, he would already be at the level of a Knight.

But he wasn’t. There were blockages. It felt like the flow of his swordsmanship was interrupted.

Something was lacking.

Recently, others might have seen him as lazy, but in reality, Ragna had been deeply introspective.

After reflecting on himself, he came to one conclusion and acted on it.

‘The basics.’

This meant every action of swinging, cutting, and stabbing.

Ragna began with basic physical training, retracing the path he had walked in reverse.

Even if he was terrible at finding paths, Ragna could at least follow the footprints he had firmly pressed into the ground.

In the midst of this, someone within him asked.

“Why do you want to become a Knight?”

In the past, he might have stopped, unable to answer that question.

“Only by becoming a Knight can I see what’s next.”

Now, Ragna awaited the next step. He even had a specific goal in mind. The Knight who came from Aspen.

He would defeat him.

Just as Rem had resolved himself, Ragna had also changed.

Jaxon, on the other hand, had no need for a change of heart.

He had already made up his mind.

Instead, his body was busy. He had to keep moving. If he failed to persuade his guild members, they would be quick to poison Encrid’s meal.

Meanwhile, Encrid continued to swing his sword.

Frog, who witnessed the trajectory of his sword, spoke with admiration.

“Impressive.”

It was such a basic move, as if repeated thousands of times over many years.

From Luagarne’s perspective, no one could match Encrid in terms of mastering the basics.

‘Is that too obvious?’

Luagarne thought to herself. Upon reflection, it did seem like an obvious statement.

Geniuses are born with talent, so even if they repeat the same action a few times, they quickly grasp its principles, interpret them, and modify them.

‘But can that be called truly mastering it?’

A sudden talent might show you shortcuts, but that’s not always a good thing.

Without effort, even a genius can be consumed by their own talent.

Luagarne had seen many such unfortunate people.

So, what is needed?

Perseverance. Talent without perseverance is like the chirping of a bird that cannot sing.

Where does such relentless perseverance come from?

‘What is it that makes one repeat an action without considering boredom or weariness?’

“Hoo.”

Encrid exhaled deeply from his lungs and swung his sword down.

It was the exact same trajectory as before.

He wasn’t swinging the sword at an imaginary sparring partner in his mind.

It was simply a downward strike, repeated daily to the point of monotony. While it might appear that way to Luagarne, heat radiated from Encrid’s body.

It was a fervor that couldn’t be produced from boredom.

It was a passion that could only be shown by someone intoxicated with joy.

‘A strange and truly remarkable fellow.’

Things that couldn’t be seen before when not observed closely now became apparent.

He found such joy in swinging his sword that he didn’t feel boredom. He simply enjoyed the act of swinging the sword.

He was, indeed, a madman.

Krang, whose nickname as the ‘King of Remembrance was slowly spreading, said:

“He’s not even human.”

Luagarne silently agreed.

Her eyes followed Encrid throughout the entire day.

Observing and studying everything the man before her did—that was her task.

Luagarne also noticed how others were changing because of him.

‘Recognizing your own shortcomings isn’t a talent.’

It was something that required a trigger, something that needed stimulation.

In that sense, Encrid was an equal opportunity stimulant for everyone.

This was true for Pel as well.

Pel took pride in his talent.

He, like Luagarne, watched and observed everyone closely.

Especially Encrid.

‘What a madman.’

There was no such thing as a break for him. No, there were times when he appeared to rest, but even then, was he really resting?

It was impressive enough that he didn’t show any signs of boredom while repeating the same training every day, but this guy seemed to treat every single exercise as if his life depended on it.

“I give my all.”

Many people say that.

‘But I’ve never seen anyone as crazy as this guy.’

He didn’t just say it, he truly lived each day to the fullest.

Like a candle burning its soul to light up the surroundings, he lived each day like that. Pel himself wasn’t one to slack off in training, but to do that every day?

Swallowing hard, Pel made up his mind.

‘If that’s what’s necessary, then I’ll do it.’

He hadn’t come this far, taking all the scolding from the old shepherds, for nothing.

Pel, while observing, secretly devoted himself to training.

Lawford, who was in a similar situation, acted in the complete opposite way.

“Let’s have a match!”

Anyone who knew Lawford before would have found it unimaginable.

He used to be the type to always consider others’ opinions over his own, but now he boldly ignored others’ gazes and acted on his own will.

“Do you really want to die?”

Ragna asked Lawford seriously. He was genuinely concerned.

“Don’t kill him.”

Encrid, who was swinging his sword nearby, chimed in.

Lawford was like a small bird that had just broken out of its shell and was greeting a new world.

‘He can’t be serious.’

He took Ragna’s words that way. Until now, he had often misunderstood others by guessing their intentions.

But not anymore.

This was why he wasn’t shaken by their banter.

Once a decision is made, it becomes one’s will.

“I want to fight until I drop!”

“Even if it comes to this?”

Ragna asked nonchalantly.

“Don’t kill him.”

Encrid shook his head.

Lawford didn’t waver, even in the face of their banter. They were the type to joke around a lot.

Naturally, he ended up getting beaten badly.

But Lawford didn’t stop there. Even after being bedridden for days, he would soon get up again.

“Lady Teresa, let’s have a match!”

Lawford challenged anyone and everyone.

“I won’t send you to the Lord.”

Teresa nodded. Recently, she had come to a small realization.

She had seen several sparring partners come looking for Encrid lately. Truly all sorts of people.

From lowly mercenaries to skeptical noble bodyguards, warriors from foreign lands, wandering swordsmen from the East, and more.

Although Frog Maelrun was in the city and handled most of them, some still made it to the barracks.

Even Frog couldn’t be in two places at once.

Encrid personally dealt with them, and Teresa, watching this, nodded to herself.

A lion gives its all even when hunting a rabbit.

Encrid never half-heartedly faced anyone.

He drew Aker and activated the Will of Swiftness. His thrust was like a streak of lightning, striking like a single bolt.

She acted like Encrid.

She struck down Lawford with her shield. It was a shield bash powered by the strength of a half-blood Giant.

Thud!

“Urgh!”

Lawford’s neck twisted to the side as he was sent flying, rolling three times on the ground before coming to a stop. He was unconscious. If Teresa had used just a bit more force, he might have been knocking on heaven’s door.

“Are you trying to kill him?”

Encrid asked as he observed.

“I’m just doing my best since it’s a sparring match.”

Teresa, the half-blood Giant, replied, revealing her fervor. Her eyes conveyed a strong desire to fight.

Since Encrid wasn’t one to refuse a sparring match.

“Come at me.”

Encrid didn’t bother to avoid it.

Anyone coming by to watch would have found the scene utterly chaotic.

The Commander, who wasn’t a true noble but ruled the area as a General, was constantly fighting as if his life depended on it.

“Let’s have a match!”

The weakest-looking guy would challenge anyone in sight.

Some of those who came seeking a sparring match were so impressed by the skills of Encrid and the others that they wanted to join the unit.

“I wish to serve under the Demon Slayer.”

No one really tried to stop them.

But even those who initially joined soon came to their senses.

“I’ll start with the Border Guard Reserve Unit. No, wait. You want me to serve under Rem? I was wrong. I think I’ll take up farming. Yes, farming sounds good. Who needs the Reserve Unit? I’ll be a farmer.”

They changed their minds in an instant.

No matter how hard a normal person tries, they can’t match the madness.

It wasn’t without reason that they were called the Mad Company.

“Sparring match!”

Lawford shouted.

Pel watched with a subtle gaze.

Rem pondered when he would head to the west.

Jaxon kept moving in and out without rest.

Ragna was more dedicated to basic training than ever before.

Audin was also deep in thought about his own restrictions.

‘Lord, may I lift the restriction?’

This thought had been coming to him frequently these days. Audin believed that the Lord would soon provide him with another revelation.

Dunbachel had come to realize her weakness.

An excessive desire to live—that was her weakness. Because of it, she was always thinking about escape, constantly looking over her shoulder.

‘I had no choice if I wanted to survive.’

The survival instincts of beastmen were generally stronger than those of other species, but Dunbachel’s had become even more pronounced after being cast out by her pack.

Why did she still want to live even after resigning herself to death?

It was because she truly didn’t want to die.

‘I have to overcome this.’

Encrid was indeed a peculiar being. Just watching him made Dunbachel realize what her own problems were.

And so, it was an ordinary day at the training grounds.

Pel noticed someone approaching through the three trees near the entrance to the training grounds.

It wasn’t a familiar face.

The person wasn’t dressed like a guard either.

He wore a vest made of fabric, his two arms and fists were covered in scars, he had a square jaw and prominent cheekbones, and his body was pure muscle without an ounce of fat.

Pel’s gaze quickly scanned the man’s entire body.

“Mind if I join the fun?”

As soon as he saw the man’s lips move, Pel heard his voice, and suddenly the man’s figure seemed to expand in his vision.

“Gah!”

Startled, Pel instinctively drew his Idol Slayer and swung upward.

Who wouldn’t be startled?

The man who had been walking slowly from a distance had suddenly appeared right in front of him.

Pel’s instincts drove him to swing the Idol Slayer, but the man simply caught the blade with his palm.

There was a slight slice, and blood oozed out.

“That’s a sharp sword.”

The man merely licked the wound on his hand, and that was it.

The magic within the Idol Slayer hadn’t been able to take effect.

“You seem a bit boring.”

The man commented as he stepped further into the training grounds.

In an instant, Encrid was flanked on either side by Rem, Ragna, Audin, Teresa, and Dunbachel.

Lawford, who had once been highly perceptive but now seemed completely oblivious, asked:

“Who are you?”

It was obvious that the man wasn’t an ordinary soldier.

“Just a passerby.”

He replied.

Even though the man wasn’t doing anything, Encrid felt a sense of pressure, and someone came to mind.

It was a memory brought forth by instinct.

The figure that came to mind was the Knight from Aspen, the one who had torn through the tent and struck with his sword.

A Knight who had been difficult to even block a single strike from.

“So the rumors were exaggerated.”

The man said, letting his arms hang loose.

He wasn’t doing anything, nor was he showing any Will, but there was no opening to be found.

But should that mean they should back down?

Encrid steeled his heart, sharpening his resolve.

For a sharp mind is like a blade honed on the whetstone of determination.

He straightened his posture and placed his hand on the grip of his sword.

Encrid wasn’t alone in this.

Rem, Ragna, Audin, Dunbachel, and Teresa all did the same.

None of them seemed inclined to retreat.

The summer heat warmed the air, and it was so hot that the air shimmered with mirages.

Though they had been sweating in the oppressive heat, the tension now cooled that warmth.

At that moment, when no one spoke, someone else intervened.

He approached from behind the newly arrived man.

“Stop messing around.”

He said, but the tension didn’t break. Although the first man in the vest had intentionally created this tense atmosphere, things had shifted.

“Oh, what’s this?”

The man in the vest stared intently at Encrid.

It was clear that the one maintaining this intense atmosphere was him.

The one from the rumors, the Demon Slayer.