A Knight Who Eternally Regresses - Chapter 427

Chapter 427: CHAPTER 425
Encrid felt his fine hairs standing on end.

It seemed as if his opponent’s sword could strike his neck at any moment.

Could he block it?

Before he could even question it, his hands and feet moved instinctively.

He changed the angle of his stance and placed his hand on his sword belt. It was the most comfortable position from which he could draw his sword at any time.

As Encrid adjusted his posture, countless attack methods flashed through his mind, only to vanish as quickly as they appeared.

‘What if I throw the Whistle Dagger to distract him?’

Or should he charge in all at once and use the Crushing Sword?

How about attempting the Giant’s Strike?

His Focus Point activated automatically, not allowing him even to blink.

He saw his opponent’s eyes.

There was a playful glint in those yellow eyes. Even that playfulness alone could kill him.

Yes, it could.

But what would change because of that?

His focus burned brightly, and his vision naturally activated, allowing him to see one step ahead.

All means of attack would be blocked. It would happen like that.

So what? What difference did it make?

The bristling hairs, the pounding heart, the sweat flowing, the chill that didn’t match the weather.

Encrid decided to forget all of it.

The strategy he had used against a Knight he had previously faced was to strike first.

Because otherwise, he wasn’t confident he could block even a single attack.

At that time, it was the best he could do.

‘What about now?’

Even after being beaten countless times and broken, Encrid kept walking, chasing after his faded dream.

He swung his sword all day without rest until his grip would burst.

There hadn’t been a single day he hadn’t spent like that.

The sun rose anew every day, but Encrid never wasted a single one.

‘Will it work?’

A sudden urge to do something surged within him.

Could he do that now?

He wanted to. His enthusiasm boiled over, erasing everything around him, leaving only his opponent in sight.

‘Is this arrogance? Or overconfidence?’

Before becoming the Troublemaking Squad Leader, the repeated days of today now felt like a long time ago.

Even back then, Encrid had moments where he felt a semblance of confidence.

How could he not?

He had swung his sword like a madman, again and again.

He didn’t know that the rewards of effort were not given equally to everyone.

No, he knew, but he chose to ignore it.

The confidence that had built up among the mediocre had stirred up a sense of challenge.

‘How far have I come now?’

With that thought, he set out to find someone worthy of fighting.

It was a step taken on the unfounded belief that he had somehow changed from before.

And what was the result?

The spring of his twenty-seventh year.

Encrid realized how insignificant his talent was.

The outcome of a chance encounter with a dispute led to that realization.

In just five moves, the sword he held flew out of his hand, and there was a hole in his stomach. Clutching the hole with his palm, Encrid asked.

“How old are you?”

“Twelve.”

Twelve, he said. He couldn’t believe it.

This was what a true genius looked like.

“Sorry, it was my first real fight.”

The boy had said.

That memory was still vivid. He could never forget the face of that genius boy he saw that day.

‘Despite that.’

Even if you could cut your opponent with a sword devoid of confidence, you couldn’t defeat them.

“Instead of worrying about whether to strike or not, just swing.”

Rem had said.

“If you keep cutting until it works, it will work.”

That was Ragna’s advice on how to cut through unyielding stone.

“If your mind is lacking, train your body, if your body is lacking, train your mind, brother.”

Audin had said that training without a moment to think was the answer.

“Just stab them secretly.”

That was Jaxon’s response when asked what to do when facing a formidable opponent.

Even now, it might just be his baseless confidence wanting to test his skills.

‘Is that so wrong?’

He had clawed his way up, building the tower of effort, climbing the walls despite being insufficient, to get to where he was now.

Encrid wanted to test himself. He wanted to quench his thirst. He wanted to point his sword at his opponent.

‘How far have I come now?’

Compared to when he faced the Knight of Aspen?

Or when he got a hole in his stomach from a young genius’s blade?

It had been stubbornness and determination, sheer will and tenacity.

His opponent knew this too.

He had let his guard down, yet here Encrid was, trying to turn the tables.

The man in the vest looked directly at Encrid and laughed.

There was much to laugh about.

Not only was that guy’s stubbornness amusing, but it was also interesting how those around him naturally joined in on his momentum.

“I don’t know either.”

The man moved. With a sharp sound, his body elongated forward as if it were stretching.

It was acceleration beyond human limits.

The moment Encrid recognized it, his sword moved as well.

It wasn’t the Giant’s Strike or the Crushing Sword.

His body simply reacted before any thought could form.

Bang!

A loud crash rang out, and Encrid felt his body being pushed back, but he bent his knees, lowered his center of gravity, and stood firm.

Rumble.

The dirt ground shifted under his feet. In that state, Encrid pulled back his sword and thrust it forward. Minimizing all movements to exploit his opponent’s openings was only natural.

It was an instinctive response born from countless sparring sessions with Rem.

“Hiya!”

The man shouted, parrying the attack again. His weapon was a short, thick, curved dagger, about the length of a handspan, called a Jambiya.

Even after clashing with Aker, it neither broke nor shattered. It was clearly a weapon belonging to the class of famous swords.

Rem or Ragna, even Audin, might have intervened, but no one stepped in.

Thud! Clang clang clang!

Their weapons clashed multiple times.

Instead of retreating, Encrid focused on capturing the trajectory of the dagger with his eyes.

Amazingly, the dagger seemed to disappear in an instant, but each time, his eyes, which had naturally activated to see one step ahead, predicted its path.

It was like predicting the destination by watching the starting point, though it was done while observing the trajectory of the sword, aided by the ability to see one step ahead.

Because of this, he couldn’t launch any grand technique, but he could barely manage to hold out by observing.

After dodging and parrying twelve times, Encrid swiftly dropped his left hand to his waist and then thrust it forward. He struck with Ember.

It was faster than ever, a speed befitting the term ‘swift’. The blade extended forward as a single point.

And then, the blade of Ember was caught in the man’s hand.

With a snap, the captured blade was immobilized as if wedged between rocks.

The man’s Jambiya was now pressed against Encrid’s neck.

Holding the blade of Ember with one hand, he had evaded Aker’s hand and skillfully maneuvered his body into close quarters to press the dagger against Encrid’s throat.

“This is as far as it goes. You’re an amusing kid.”

The man said.

Only then did Encrid’s vision expand. Until a moment ago, he could only see the man before him, but now it was different.

The surroundings came into view. The familiar training grounds, the three trees, and other such things.

At the same time, his entire body’s muscles subtly ached. It felt as though his body was burdened after being squeezed to its limits, like after days of intense training.

“What Knight are you?”

Encrid asked.

“A Knight? I’m not one of those.”

The man replied, shrugging his shoulders. His demeanor seemed almost innocent. It was a gesture that didn’t match his scar-covered body and the short, rough beard he had grown.

“Shouldn’t you introduce yourself first?”

A man with brown skin, wearing a wide-brimmed hat and turban, approached late and looked around at everyone as he spoke.

His tone was so casual, as if the commotion just moments ago had been nothing of concern.

“Allow me to introduce him. This is Lord Anu, commonly known as the King of the East.”

The unexpected introduction made even Encrid freeze for a moment.

“Surprised?”

The King laughed heartily before speaking.

The Mercenary King of the East, the greatest explorer on the continent, the master of the Griffon, the man who killed a lion with a single sword at the age of eighteen.

“Now, let’s see. You enjoy fighting, don’t you? Didn’t you say you’ve dedicated your life to killing demons? Come under me, and I’ll grant you the strength of a Knight capable of slaying demons.”

These were the words of a man with many titles, someone who had already proven himself.

It was clear why neither Rem nor anyone else intervened.

There was no trace of murderous intent from this man known as the King of the East.

He had accepted Encrid’s stubbornness. It was a form of instruction, making it a fight that was difficult to interfere with.

However, the weight of the words he just uttered was different.

Even Ragna, who had been lost in thought and looking distant, had a change in his eyes.

“You’re quite confident.”

Rem, unable to stay quiet, remarked, and Audin also let out a soft laugh.

Although he didn’t call himself a Knight, anyone could see that his displayed strength was more than enough to be called one.

Moreover, he spoke with his back straight, exuding confidence. It naturally gave off an aura similar to Krang.

Luagarne, who had never dared to explore the unknown like Frog, watched the man intently.

Just how did he plan to do that? It was something that had to be heard directly.

The scorching sun, the corner of the training ground with no shade, dust scattered from the blue stone with every movement, only to settle again.

The sunlight, beyond warmth, radiated heat as it swept over the dust and the people gathered in between.

A brief silence passed, and before Encrid could say anything,

“Master, you shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.”

The man with the turban who had followed finally spoke again.

‘Huh?’

Encrid’s eyebrows twitched slightly at the words.

“Do you think I can’t do it?”

The King spoke sternly.

“How exactly will you do it?”

The man in the turban retorted.

“Skillfully.”

“Skill alone won’t suffice.”

“With determination?”

“That still won’t do.”

“If you keep at it, it might work.”

The King’s eyes burned with fervor as he uttered the last words. Anyone hearing him would feel compelled to believe. But the adjutant wasn’t easily swayed.

“What won’t work simply won’t work.”

“You give up too easily!”

“It’s not giving up. It’s about not making promises you can’t keep.”

The King snorted in amusement.

Encrid watched this, catching a whiff of Rem’s attitude.

Different, but clearly another crazy one.

“There were rumors everywhere, so we requested a visit, but it seems we’ve just barged in. We sincerely apologize for that. However, we mean no harm.”

The adjutant spoke in a thick Eastern accent.

Everyone seemed to understand the sincerity in his words. That they meant no harm, indeed.

Even Encrid knew that the man had accepted his stubbornness.

“Welcome.”

So he responded plainly.

“Would it be alright if we stayed for a few more days?”

The King of the East asked.

“You look like the kind of person who would do as you please, whether we object or not.”

Rem interjected.

The King burst out laughing.

“You’ve got good instincts, kid!”

He was clearly not someone who would listen to objections. Encrid didn’t feel any particular aversion to it.

The King seemed to have exceptional social skills, as he was already engaging in conversation with Rem, Ragna, and Audin.

Though, they weren’t the type to casually let others into their circle.

“Look at that build. You must be quite strong.”

“Just at a modest level, brother of the East.”

“My brother, Gestarian, has some strength, and I think it would be good to see you two together. You all seem quite capable. How did you end up gathering here?”

His tone was peculiar, treating everyone as if they were mere children in a light-hearted manner.

“This is really becoming quite a bother.”

The man who appeared to be the adjutant showed a troubled expression as he spoke. Encrid fell into thought for a moment.

There were things that the recent sparring had left with him.

He wasn’t referring to the strain on his body.

It was the techniques that Rem had repeatedly tried to teach him in the realm of instinct.

No matter how much he trained, if he didn’t use them in real combat, they wouldn’t become true skills.

Could he use them against this man?

From the way he spoke, it seemed like he wouldn’t refuse a request for a sparring match at any time.

Most importantly, unlike Rem, Ragna, or Audin, this man had accepted all of his techniques without issue.

In other words, he had the chance to fight with all his might, prepared to risk his life.

Before Encrid even uttered the words ‘Welcome’, he had already thought this far.

“About five sparring sessions a day should do.”

Encrid muttered, and the adjutant blinked in surprise before asking,

“What? What did you just say?”

“Could it even be ten?”

Encrid said, thinking that it wouldn’t be so bad if his body could endure it, and then looked at the adjutant.

“You heard that, didn’t you?”

“I did, but…”

The adjutant thought to himself. Until now, he believed the King he served was the craziest person around, but it seemed there was someone similar here.

This decided it— the King of the East would stay.

“Take care of me, young ones.”

The King said.

“How old are you?”

Rem asked, watching him.

“I’m over a hundred.”

Everyone was taken aback by his age, which was far beyond what he appeared. It wasn’t a lie.

This was the man who had led mercenaries and various talents, founded a Kingdom in the East, and became a King.

The story of that Kingdom’s founding had already been told over 50 years ago.

He had lived from then until now, still full of vigor—a monster known as Anu, the Mercenary King of the East.