A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

Boom.

Suddenly, lightning struck out of the blue, and rain started to pour.

"Damn, this ruins the mood."

"Hmm."

Rem and Ragna, whose tempers had flared, averted their gazes from each other. The fight was over. The two sought shelter from the rain and entered the tent. Despite the earlier clear skies, the weather had turned chaotic.

It was the end of autumn. It was not the season for sudden showers. Such a sudden rain with clear skies was rare.

"Sudden rain."

Kraiss remarked as he watched the lightning and rain. Enkrid also looked up at the sky, reflecting on the events that had occurred while he was away. As expected, the talk of a curse was nonsense.

"They'll probably say this rain is a curse too."

"Maybe. Anyway, in the past three days, Bon fell and broke his nose, Jack broke his arm, and Rot was bitten by a snake."

All three were from the recon team.

Bon was agile enough to do somersaults, so breaking only his nose was fortunate given he wore armor. Jack was a braggart who overestimated his spear skills. He broke his arm during a spar, and one could bet the opponent had intended to break it. Lastly, Rot was careless for a recon member.

It wasn’t the season for many snakes, but this plain was particularly infested. So, all three incidents were understandable.

"Besides those three, someone also touched a hot pot."

Big eyes spoke excitedly. Would he speak like this if he genuinely believed in the curse? It was just something to talk about.

"Also, there was news that the medical tent caught fire. Oh, you were there, right, squad leader? Did you hear anything?"

Was the tent fire also considered a curse?

"Yeah, it burned well."

Kraiss stopped entering the tent and turned his head sharply.

"Did you see it yourself? Did the fire suddenly flare up? They said there might have been a spy?"

Yes and No.

‘I did it.’

Enkrid had started the fire. And as for a spy, there had been an ambush, but whether the attacker was an enemy soldier was doubtful. He still didn’t know Crang’s true identity, but he seemed to be at least a noble’s illegitimate son.

So, wasn’t the attacker probably from their own side?

Talking about curses, what could one say?

The command would soon crack down on this talk. No commander liked such rumors spreading within their unit.

"Hey, did you see anything?"

Big eyes pressed him. Enkrid looked into those large eyes and thought.

Kraiss was too loose-lipped to tell everything. Even if he weren’t, there was no reason to share it. He had decided to keep it quiet, so he would.

"The tent I was in caught fire."

"Huh?"

"Didn’t you know?"

"Not at all. So, it wasn’t an enemy attack? The fire started suddenly?"

"The night watch was dozing, and the wind knocked over the torch stand. There happened to be an oil drum nearby. The tent caught fire from the fallen torch."

Enkrid clenched and unclenched his fist, mimicking the spreading flames with his hand.

"Nothing much."

"Aren’t you worried you almost died?"

"I’m alive and well here."

Was that concern or what?

"If you weren’t alive and well, wouldn’t you be a ghost?"

Rem interrupted from behind, laughing. Was this bastard joking?

"The Lord says, let the spirits rest in peace."

The religious squad member performed an exorcism with his words. Enkrid thought that if he were indeed a ghost, it would be unpleasant to hear.

"Only my hair got singed."

His bangs had been slightly burnt, so he cut them. The roughly cut hair showed signs of poor trimming.

"You’ve got black hair, so it’s not noticeable when it burns."

Rem laughed continuously.

"Then is your hair ashes?"

Rem’s hair was gray.

"Ah, how did you know? My hair is ashes."

Did this guy really find this funny?

Though it had been a sudden shower, the rain quickly stopped. The chatter didn’t last long. Kraiss left, saying he had business to attend to as soon as the rain stopped.  Enkrid lay down, falling asleep to the sound of raindrops pattering at the edge of the tent.

It was a sweet nap. When he woke up, his headache was gone. The fatigue was also gone. Enkrid got up and twisted his waist side to side. There was no pain in his side.

Good. He felt refreshed.

The tent was empty. Listening closely, he heard people passing by outside the tent and the grumbling voice of a soldier in the neighboring tent.

"What's with this on-and-off rain?"

Enkrid pushed the tent flap aside and stepped outside. Squad members were scattered in front of the tent, enjoying their personal maintenance time. It was no surprise that Jaxon and Kraiss were nowhere to be seen. The others were present. Among them, Enkrid approached Rem, who was scribbling on the wet ground.

"You look like you have nothing to do."

"Do I? That’s right. I was just thinking about cracking someone’s skull out of boredom."

Starting fights with the squad was one of Rem’s specialties. When the picked fight escalated, beating the opponent up was his hobby. Though it had lessened since Enkrid arrived, he hadn’t completely abandoned the hobby.

"Then spar with me."

"Spar?"

"Yes, spar."

Rem nodded without hesitation. This had happened countless times. Enkrid’s request for a spar was routine.

"Alright."

The two headed to the empty lot behind the tent. Thanks to the crazy weather, there was no one around. Even if there were, they wouldn’t care. Enkrid and Rem faced each other with ten paces between them.

Rem grinned, twirling his wrist. The newly sharpened axe blade reflected the sunlight with every movement.

Though it had rained, the sky was now clear. The air was humid, and the smell of earth filled the air. The ground was soft but not muddy, slightly damp but not sinking. The clouds covered the sun enough that it wasn’t blinding.

"A perfect day for a fight."

"Yeah?"

Enkrid responded and awakened the Heart of the Beast. He strived not to waste time, repeating the same day over and over. This included physical training and hearing exercises. It also involved using his head.

‘The Vallen Style Mercenary Sword doesn’t work.’

Having sparred countless times with Rem while learning the thrust, he knew. The Vallen Style Mercenary Swordsmanship was useless against Rem.

So, what to do?

Considering his weapon, the opponent’s pressure, and his past experiences.

What kind of attack would be effective?

How to make an effective hit. It was time to test the answers to these repeated questions.

Sss.

Rem stepped forward. His steps were confident, showing no hesitation. Enkrid thought so.

"Do I have to go first?"

Instead of answering, Enkrid matched his breathing to the opponent’s.

Inhale and exhale. Rem’s breathing was long and slow. In the middle of that long exhale, Enkrid closed the gap in an instant. He pushed off his back foot and moved forward closing the distance.

Whoosh!

He swung his sword horizontally. Rem bent backward, almost lying down to dodge. It was a trick he could pull off only by accurately predicting the range of the slash. Even in a half-lying position, Rem’s eyes never left Enkrid. Seeing this, Enkrid reflexively pulled his sword back to guard himself.

Whoosh.

Thud!

The axe had flown and struck the sword blade. The impact wasn’t significant. No matter how strong he was, it was a swing from a lying position.

In that position...

Whoosh, whoosh!

The axe flew repeatedly.

Thud! Thud! Clang!

Enkrid held the sword with both hands, blocking continuously. He tried to pause and adjust his stance to attack, but Rem didn’t stop. Enkrid felt like he was standing under a guillotine. The axe storm ended as Rem fully straightened up. A brief gap appeared, but Enkrid didn’t retreat. He didn’t adjust his stance.

Rem straightened his back and pulled his arm back. Seeing this, Enkrid, instead of retreating and catching his breath,

Snap!

Step forward and thrust, a move he had repeated countless times. With the blade extended from the blocking stance, he aimed to pierce.

Everything happened in an instant.

As he thrust toward Rem’s waist, Enkrid’s vision overlapped with the blue sky and Rem’s face.

‘Huh?’

Enkrid saw Rem’s face upside down.

Whoosh.

As he thrust, Rem kicked Enkrid’s ankle. A split-second decision. Thanks to that, the sword tip missed its mark. Rem didn’t swing the axe but dropped it, grabbed Enkrid’s collar, and threw him sideways.

"Ugh!"

Rolling sideways, Enkrid quickly understood how he had been defeated. It was a feint. He had timed the backward movement of the axe.

Rem used that against him.

"Hoo."

Lying sprawled, Enkrid shook his head. Such immense strength. Enkrid thought he wasn’t easily outmatched in strength, but Rem could fling a person with one hand. Even without armor, he was relatively light, but it was still remarkable strength. Raising his head, he saw Rem’s face.

It was a peculiar expression. Rem usually laughed throughout a spar.

But not now.

His lips were tight, his expression composed. He wasn’t smiling.

"Tsk, did you eat something good behind my back?"

Rem asked seriously. Thinking back, such a reaction was natural. He wouldn’t remember helping with thrust training. After all, he had only assigned him to meal duty to escape that first ‘today.’

"I thought this before, but your skills have improved significantly. Especially that thrust. It was good. Not bad at all."

"Really?"

"Yes. I don’t give empty compliments."

"Hard to believe."

Enkrid scoffed, knowing he was always full of nonsense.

"It’s true."

"Alright. Let’s review then."

"...The squad leader is really consistent. Don’t you ever change?"

Reviewing after a spar. This was also routine. No matter how minor, Enkrid clung to his sparring partner. To learn and master even the smallest things. Often, the opponent had nothing to say. Only when skills improved could they offer advice. That had been the case so far. So, Rem used to say, ‘Grow some guts,’ after sparring.

It seemed meaningless, but it wasn’t. Rem knew the limits of the untalented. To survive, he taught what was necessary. He had also taught the Heart of the Beast for the same reason.

But now?

Much had changed.

The fact that Rem had much to say after this spar proved it.

"First, you made it too obvious you were waiting for my axe swing. Even if I don’t fall for it easily, you should at least try to deceive me, right?"

Rem began. Enkrid nodded. As always, he listened intently. Rem chuckled at the sight.

He always started by addressing the key points before moving on to minor details. That was Rem’s way. Enkrid listened to every word carefully.

There were no battles for three days, during which Enkrid sparred with Rem three more times.

"You should train your lower body. Your balance is off."

Though usually full of nonsense, Rem had a knack for pinpointing the crux. Enkrid pondered and mulled over his words. He then focused on training again. He did so even during personal maintenance time.

Everyone spent personal time differently. Some wrote letters. Others focused on rest. Enkrid poured everything into practice and training except eating and sleeping. Anyone would call it extreme.

But to him, it was peaceful.

He felt immense satisfaction in improving day by day. Thanks to this, he didn’t mind the increasing pain from physical training.

"What a relentless guy. Training right after returning from the medical tent."

"He was quiet lately, but now he’s on fire again."

"If I trained like that, I’d at least be at the edge of knighthood."

"Huh? Why are you talking crap?"

He focused on training and listening. Concentrating on hearing while his muscles screamed made the pain fade. Enkrid heard the idle talk of two soldiers from a nearby tent. They were from the same platoon but felt distant, the 3rd squad. He then extended his hearing further.

He tried to guess the actions by the sound of rustling clothes behind him. He attempted to identify who was approaching by their footsteps. He was wrong five out of ten times, but he could recognize familiar steps. Light and quick, the sound of feet on the ground was lively.

‘Big eyes.’

He was right.

"Training again? It’s creepy. Creepy."

Kraiss approached and said. Enkrid ignored him.

Repeating squats, his legs started trembling. Sweat dripped down his scalp, gathering at his eyebrows. The sky that had been fluctuating was now clear, with a dry breeze returning to its normal state. Sweating profusely on such a day didn’t seem normal. Especially here on the battlefield.

Training in a place where a fight could break out at any moment. Yet, everyone accepted it. Enkrid had been like this for more than a day or two. It was their routine.

"Isn’t that hard? How do you do it every day?"

Kraiss said, sitting and chewing on a piece of flat jerky. A drop of sweat rolled from his forehead, touched his nose, and fell to the ground. Heavy pain surged from his thighs. His muscles trembled and nausea rose. He was at his limit.

Enkrid sat down, drenched in sweat. Closing his eyes, he felt the cool breeze caress his wet forehead and ears. Training for today was complete. Thinking so, he enjoyed the breeze.

He heard the sound of strong footsteps. The footsteps stopped behind Enkrid.

"Still working hard, I see."

He tilted his head back to see who it was. The figure cast a long shadow over Enkrid’s face. Though the face was obscured by backlight, he saw a man with a bushy beard.

"Can we talk?"

It was the 4th platoon leader.