A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

Enkrid knew his plan had worked. The battlefield was now in utter chaos.

Look at it. It was a complete mayhem. This was the best outcome, perhaps the best of all the days he had repeated.

‘It's working.’

He had successfully created a brawl, and it led to a massacre of the lycanthropes.

Sure, many soldiers had died too, but even with the wild skirmish, the soldiers who managed to maintain a minimal formation by grouping up had the advantage.

‘The soldiers will win.’

While catching his breath at the edge of the chaotic battlefield, Roger charged at him. Roger thrust his spear with terrifying precision, the spearhead flashing like a dot in Enkrid’s vision.

It was a deadly strike. Instead of dodging dramatically, Enkrid only slightly twisted his body.

His gambeson was already tattered, but he trusted the strength of the leather armor he wore underneath.

Whoosh. Scrape.

The spear grazed his side, but there was no sharp pain. The armor had held. Enkrid immediately trapped the spear shaft under his arm.

“Hmph!”

Roger, seeing Enkrid clamp his spear with his side, gritted his teeth and pulled hard. He intended to yank the spear back, tearing through Enkrid’s arm and ribs.

Hold the spear with your side? I'll rip you apart.

Whistle!

Just as Roger exerted force, a sharp sound cut through the air, and a chilling sensation shot through him, making him jerk his head back. No, just tilting his head wasn’t enough— he had to bend his entire back.

It was an incredible display of reflexes and agility.

‘Damn it.’

A throwing knife had whizzed past, grazing his helmet and the top of his head, leaving a thin line in the air.

Of course, he hadn’t seen the blade itself.

He’d sensed it. The chill that ran down his spine quickly turned into anger.

As Roger, fueled by rage, straightened his body, he suddenly realized the spear in his hand had gone slack.

“It’s time for you to meet your hair.”

At the same time as Enkrid’s voice echoed, Roger saw a shadow looming over his head. It was Enkrid, now diving down from above.

‘This bastard.’

How is he so fast?

It was an agility that didn’t match his physique. The last image burned into Roger’s eyes was the sword descending from above.

Thwack!

The blade split his skull, cleaving through the helmet that had concealed his hairless head. Blood and brain matter oozed from the cracked head as the helmet fell apart.

Thud.

Enkrid landed on the ground and quickly checked himself over.

He had thrown the Whistling Dagger at Roger’s forehead, then followed it up with a vertical slash. Everything had gone according to plan.

‘Not bad.’

He wasn’t seriously injured. His side ached from catching the spear, but

He ran his fingers over his ribs.

‘Not broken.’

Good enough. Probably just some bruising.

“Shit! The captain!”

One of the enemy soldiers shouted. Some of them had witnessed Roger’s death, but what could they do about it?

Even with bloodshot eyes, they couldn’t just abandon their battle with the lycanthropes to rush at Enkrid. The wolves still snarled menacingly, baring their fangs.

Regardless, that single strike had shifted the momentum of the battle.

The soldiers, shaken by Roger’s death, seemed to falter. Though they still had the upper hand, more and more soldiers were being killed by the lycanthropes.

Just then, as one of the soldiers gawked at the fallen captain, a one-eyed lycanthrope burst out of hiding and bashed the man’s head in.

Thwack!

The one-eyed lycanthrope used its fists, not claws, to kill the soldier. Rather than relying solely on its claws and teeth, the beast punched its enemies.

Yeah, a leader of a colony had to be at least that strong. You can’t just become a leader of a monster colony by chance.

However, it wasn’t just fists. The beast still used the claws it was born with.

The one-eyed lycanthrope slashed through two spear shafts after swatting away several spear thrusts.

After killing two soldiers, it retreated back into the shadows. Into the shadows of trees, behind the soldiers, and among the other lycanthropes wreaking havoc.

It kept hiding and waiting for the right moment to strike. It had been using the same tactic from the start. Constantly lurking in the dark, ambushing enemies, and exploiting any opening.

Enkrid gave up on tracking the lycanthrope hiding among its pack and quietly caught his breath. Meanwhile, one of the soldiers charged at him.

“For the captain!”

What nonsense.

Your captain lost in a one-on-one fight, so where do you think you're going? If it had been a fair fight from the start, they could’ve won. That’s exactly why I made this chaos.

Enkrid deflected the spear with his sword and pushed forward, sliding his blade along the shaft.

Scrape.

The blade peeled away the spear’s wood until it reached the soldier’s neck.

Slash.

The razor-sharp blade cut through the soldier’s neck. Blood spurted from the half-severed neck. With the momentum of the slice, Enkrid spun around, using centrifugal force to bring his sword up and at the ready.

‘I wondered when you’d show up.’

Behind him, near Roger’s body, a lycanthrope crouched low. It was the leader of the pack, the one-eyed lycanthrope.

The beast had sneaked around to get behind him. Its yellow eyes gleamed as it stared at Enkrid.

“Want to come to me? Or should I come to you?”

The lycanthrope leader was indeed a tougher opponent than Roger.

But,

Enkrid had not wasted a single one of his seventy-eight days. He hadn’t avoided danger or taken it easy just because he could repeat the day.

Which meant,

“Let’s get this over with.”

He didn’t think killing this beast would be all that difficult either. Claws ripped through the air, creating slivers of space as they clashed with Enkrid’s sword.

After a few exchanges of blows, Enkrid’s blade severed the lycanthrope’s arm.

‘The advantage of having a better weapon.’

He had never felt it as clearly as he did now. The sword he had forged with Krona was showing its worth.

He broke through the beast’s claws with every swing, and in one of those moments, he sliced through its arm, gaining the upper hand.

The one-eyed lycanthrope slashed upward, splitting the air vertically where Enkrid had stood just moments before.

Enkrid sidestepped, pivoting on his left foot. From his crown down to his groin, he leaned into his center of gravity.

Centrifugal force, aided by his toes, knees, and hips, powered the heavy sword strike as he unleashed a mighty diagonal slash. The spinning blade cleaved through the air, and the lycanthrope’s neck.

Shhhk.

There was no resistance. The sword hit its mark precisely, decapitating the beast.

Whoosh.

The sound of the blade cutting through the air was brief. The lycanthrope’s head flew off in an instant. The battlefield didn’t fall silent.

There were only a few witnesses to this fight. If the spear unit had formed a solid line and charged together, Enkrid would’ve been dead.

Likewise, if the lycanthropes had swarmed him as a pack, the result would’ve been the same. But in a one-on-one battle?

‘As long as it’s one-on-one, I won’t lose.’

That’s the situation he had created.

He had faced both the captain and the one-eyed lycanthrope multiple times, becoming familiar with their fighting styles and habits.

Of course, knowing their habits meant nothing without the skills to back it up.

Completing a half-spin, Enkrid swung his sword in a graceful arc under the moonlight, creating the illusion of a swirling dance.

It was just an illusion, of course. Enkrid then quietly stepped back. It was time to catch his breath.

After all, “today” wasn’t over yet.

There was still the wall to climb. Something wasn’t right. Had he always been like that?

As Torres circled around, unable to cut through the center of the battlefield, he watched Enkrid slay Roger and the one-eyed lycanthrope with his sword.

He couldn’t shake the thought.

He’s changed, hasn’t he? They had sparred over a dozen times on the way here. The Enkrid he knew then was different from the one now.

‘What’s changed?’

Did his skills suddenly skyrocket? That didn’t seem right.

‘His swordplay feels colder now.’

He seemed more composed too.

“He’s always fought that well, right?”

Finn asked beside him. It was an impressive level of skill. Anyone watching would think the same.

“He fights incredibly well.”

Finn’s eyes glinted sharply as she suddenly kicked a rock into the air with her foot. As the stone flew up, she snatched it and threw it with a quick flick of her wrist.

Thud!

The rock hit the back of an enemy soldier’s head. Just as the soldier staggered forward, a lycanthrope struck him in the back with its claws.

Thud!

The blow didn’t pierce through his armor entirely. It was sturdy, but the impact forced the soldier to roll to the side, breaking their formation.

Two lycanthropes immediately pounced on the gap in their defenses. Once the formation was broken, the lycanthropes had the upper hand.

Torres glanced at the chaos for a moment, then turned his attention back to Enkrid.

It was strange. Finn throwing rocks to disrupt the enemy was odd, but Enkrid? Enkrid was far stranger. A nagging feeling gnawed at his chest.

He couldn’t quite put it into words, but something was off.

Terribly, immensely off.

‘Why?’

When he thought about it, everything seemed strange. But if he had to narrow it down...

‘First of all, his skill.’

Torres didn’t want to face a lycanthrope, especially one basking in the moonlight, right now.

Not alone, at least. Sure, he might be able to win, but there was a real chance he could die, too.

If he tried to stab the lycanthrope in the throat with a dagger and his hand slipped or got caught on its claws?

‘Ugh.’

A shiver ran down his spine. It was an unsettling thought. But what about Enkrid?

‘Does he have a heart of stone?’

This wasn’t just boldness, it was outright audacity.

Between enemies— enemies he had deliberately angered— and the lycanthropes, Enkrid was dodging their attacks like it was a game. He even killed the enemy captain with a single stroke.

And that one-eyed lycanthrope? He cut it down just as easily. He had parried the beast’s claws a few times and then simply beheaded it.

His skill was so smooth it made Torres’ stomach churn. When Enkrid spun his sword in a wide arc, it almost looked like the blade was bending, like a whip.

What the hell kind of guy is this?

‘Ah.’

That’s when Torres finally understood the difference between the Enkrid he had sparred with and the Enkrid he saw now.

‘It’s experience. He’s become more experienced.’

He had thought Enkrid’s movements were awkward and clumsy at first.

That’s why he had given him advice on how to close the gaps in his defense after every spar. The more they fought, the more Enkrid seemed to improve.

But now, it was as if he had reached a state of mastery. At least, that was what the spin attack suggested.

‘How long did that take? Just a few days?’

Was he a genius?

No, Torres knew him well enough to be sure. Enkrid wasn’t naturally talented at physical combat. If he were to be honest, Enkrid’s combat skills had once been almost embarrassingly poor compared to others.

‘But look at him now.’

Now, every time Enkrid swung his sword, someone died— whether it was a lycanthrope or an enemy soldier.

Even after killing both the captain and the one-eyed lycanthrope, other enemies and beasts still tried to attack him from time to time.

But with a simple sidestep and a downward strike, he would crush their skulls.

And when he executed a horizontal strike, instead of cutting through their armor, the force of the blow shattered their ribs and internal organs.

Even if the blade didn’t pierce their armor, the sheer impact did the damage. It was the perfect example of the heavy sword technique.

‘Aren’t they afraid of him?’

If Enkrid were my enemy, I’d be terrified to fight him. Torres wasn’t the only one who thought so.

In the wake of Roger and the one-eyed lycanthrope’s deaths, at least three or four others had fallen to Enkrid’s blade.

After that, no one dared approach him.

Even the lycanthropes, who had lost their minds under the full moon, began to avoid Enkrid entirely. They passed him by as if he didn’t exist.

They circled around him.

‘If I were them, I’d do the same.’

With that, only the battle between the remaining soldiers and the lycanthropes remained.

Even that fight was nearing its end. Enkrid stood alone under the moonlight, calmly observing the battle.

It didn’t seem awkward at all. His poise and calm demeanor under the moon made him look like he belonged there, silently watching the last moments of the battle.

That sight sent a chill down Torres’ spine.

It wasn’t just surprising that the lycanthropes and soldiers were avoiding a single human— it was something else.

There was a growing sense of unease gnawing at Torres.

‘Okay, fine, I’ll accept his skill.’

But what about the rest?

There were so many odd things.

From the very beginning, when the Gray Dogs and the lycanthropes showed up together.

From the moment he kept hinting that something was behind them in that doghole.

‘How did he know the captain’s name?’

That’s the part that didn’t make sense at all. There was no way to dismiss it as mere coincidence. Once the first question surfaced, it was inevitable that more would follow.

Now, Torres couldn’t stop thinking about it.

As they continued running in a wide arc around the battlefield, his mind kept circling back to that one question.

“What’s bugging you?”

Finn asked, scanning the battlefield as they ran. She was already trying to read the flow of the battle. Whoever won, they’d have to wipe out the rest, wouldn’t they?

At first, the humans seemed to have the upper hand. But now, it seemed the lycanthropes might come out on top.

The lycanthropes had long since started avoiding Enkrid, but the humans hadn’t. They still targeted him a few more times, and each time, their numbers dwindled even further.

All of this was a situation created by a single man— Enkrid. The leader of an independent squad, with a fit body and a pretty face.

What is he, some kind of tactical genius?

That’s what Finn thought.

“It’s all just... strange.”

Torres, still running alongside her, kept muttering to himself.

The two of them seemed close enough to Enkrid, but it was clear they had no idea what was going on. They didn’t understand him. This thing, that thing, nothing made sense.

They both stared at Enkrid with expressions that screamed, What the hell is happening?

“Focus. We still need to take care of the ones left standing.”

With that, Finn seemed to have made up her mind. She drew the axe from her waist and threw it.

Just as she made eye contact with an enemy soldier.

Whoosh!

The hand axe spun through the air and buried itself in the soldier’s chest with a solid thunk.

The blow sent him staggering back before collapsing to the ground.

“Hurts, doesn’t it, you bastard?”

Finn muttered as she ran.

Torres kept grumbling about how strange everything was, even as they made their way toward Enkrid.

It had taken them some time to circle around, but in the end, they kept their promise to regroup once they were within visual range.

“Hey, I’ve got a question.”

Torres had to ask. He needed to know what was going on. Leaving aside the odd shift in Enkrid’s skills, he had to focus on the most urgent question.

“How do you know the captain’s name?”

There was no reasonable explanation for this. Enkrid seemed indifferent, as if it wasn’t important.

“Coincidence.”

“Coincidence?”

What are the odds of knowing the enemy captain’s name by chance?

“Kreis told me there was something weird about one of the enemy soldiers.”

It was a lie. But how could they verify that? They couldn’t. And it sounded plausible enough.

“Oh.”

“I just made fun of him because I heard he was famous for hiding his head.”

He wasn’t a city-level champion, but as an enemy, he stood out. Plus, his eccentricities made him a prime target for ridicule.

It wasn’t impossible to imagine hearing about him through the grapevine. Even in Azpen, some people knew the names of the frontier defense captains.

So, it was plausible. It made sense.

“Then you planned all of this, didn’t you?”

“Of course it was coincidence. Who could’ve predicted a pack of lycanthropes would show up here?”

Enkrid’s eyes said, Why are you even asking?

That response grated on Torres, but,

“Does it really matter? Anyway, I’ve got a plan.”

Finn, starting to think Enkrid might be some tactical prodigy, perked up her ears. Torres still found Enkrid’s calm demeanor unsettling, but he listened too.

They had to hear him out, after all.

“Let’s climb the wall. No one’s going to expect anyone to sneak over the wall right now.”

The doghole was obviously a trap the enemy had dug. They had barely escaped through it. But if they scaled the wall before the soldiers returned to the city?

“Brilliant.”

Finn was the first to agree. It made sense. It was only natural. It was a plan perfected through countless repetitions of today. Anything less would’ve been strange.

“Damn it.”

Torres clicked his tongue but nodded in agreement.

After all, the operation was still underway.

Whatever Enkrid had said was likely to become a sharp knife, one that would stab the enemy without them even knowing.

“Let’s go."

With that, before the battle between the lycanthropes and the soldiers could finish, the three of them moved.

“They’re running!”

A soldier, in the middle of stabbing a spear into a lycanthrope’s head, shouted. But they couldn’t give chase. There were only twelve soldiers left.

Sure, they could still form a defensive line and fight but,

To be honest, none of them wanted to fight Enkrid, the man who had sliced their captain in half.

“Damn it.”

All they could do was curse under their breath.