A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

A roar erupted behind Rem, Teresa, and Audin.

It was only natural. News from Green Pearl’s garrison had swept through the Border Guard like a storm.

The hero who had defeated the Black Blades, cultists, and Azpen had returned.

It would have been stranger if there hadn't been cheers.

Enkrid saw something like flower petals falling above him.

Not many—just a scattering of dry petals.

He spotted the ones who had thrown them.

A few children and some women.

One child and one woman in particular looked familiar.

The child's eyes sparkled as they stared at him.

Didn’t they say they wanted to be an herbalist?

Since it was winter, they must have searched for flowers that bloomed despite the cold.

They must have found them, plucked them, dried them carefully.

How much effort must have gone into this?

Above his head, white and pink petals drifted down.

There weren’t many, but the sincerity behind them was unmistakable.

Enkrid smiled.

The child who had dreamed of being an herbalist saw that smile.

Their hero was smiling.

The happiness they felt at that moment was beyond words.

Even if their fingers had cracked and blistered while gathering the petals, it would still be a cherished memory.

Enkrid walked past the child, stepping further into the city.

As he moved, Rem fell in step to his right.

“Had a good time partying?”

“Fair enough.”

Just because the news had spread didn’t mean they knew everything that had happened.

“You’ve taken quite a beating, brother.”

Audin’s voice came from behind.

A beating? More like half-dead.

He’d been skewered with quarrels, bled out, barely patched himself up, and then a knight had come and slashed him for good measure.

If anything, resting and feasting at Green Pearl’s garrison had only brought him this far.

“Got a little bruised.”

He answered with half a joke.

“Oh, my Lord, my Father... Why have you given him such a frail body?”

Enkrid knew Audin’s prayer was meant for him.

Objectively speaking, Enkrid’s physique was as developed as a beastkin’s—his naturally toned muscles rivaled theirs, even without training.

Matching a beastkin in physique meant his body was more than solid.

But to Audin, only the shortcomings stood out.

After all, that bear of a zealot had the body of a hybrid between a beastkin and a giant.

“There is still room for training.”

Enkrid ignored Audin’s muttering and kept walking.

To his left, Ragna stepped up.

His right arm was still wrapped in heavy bandages, not yet healed.

But the wound on his thigh must have recovered—he walked just fine.

Ragna was just as injured as Enkrid, yet apart from his arm, he looked nearly unscathed now.

Behind Rem, Dunbakel walked in step, and Teresa, limping slightly, moved beside Audin.

The cheers only grew louder.

“Undying Rem!”

Not just civilians—even the soldiers were calling out.

The battle with the Black Blades and the cultists was still fresh in their minds.

So it made sense for words like Undying Rem to spread.

Some cheers were for Audin, and some for Teresa.

The nickname "Giant Siblings" was amusing, but he didn’t laugh.

Dunbakel grumbled about not having a nickname of her own.

As they walked, another voice cut through the cheers.

“Take me!”

Now and then, the voice of a crazy woman rang out.

“What the hell are you taking?!”

Rem shot back.

“Not you!”

“Even if you offered, I wouldn’t take you!”

The way they argued through the crowd meant the woman wasn’t an ordinary citizen.

Enkrid looked and recognized her—she was a merchant woman raising two kids on her own.

He’d seen her around before.

Her resilience hadn’t faded.

That strength and unyielding nature were something to be respected.

The cheers continued, and his name rang from all sides.

Half of this victory parade had been arranged by the lord of the fortress—the rest was entirely voluntary.

Even the lord’s own involvement wasn’t so different from voluntary celebration.

A welcome from the heart.

Enkrid stepped into Border Guard and thought—

If Azpen had won instead?

How could they have endured that nightmare?

What would the palace have done to the fortress lord the moment he returned?

Or rather, what actions would have been taken against him?

If he managed to escape execution over the defeat, he’d be lucky.

“UOHHH!”

Perhaps that was why even the fortress lord was roaring like a wild beast.

“He’s handsome!”

“The Blade of Endurance!”

“Captain’s Blade!”

Enkrid realized something—words traveled faster than anything.

Faster than carriages, faster than runners.

Hadn’t news arrived before he even set foot in the city?

Of course, part of it was thanks to the advance troops who had returned earlier and spread the stories.

The soldiers who hadn’t been wounded had already made it back, so naturally, word had spread.

As he walked through the cheers, Enkrid ruffled the hair of the herbalist child.

He nodded toward a middle-aged woman selling spiced jerky.

And to Vanessa, the innkeeper who shouted, “Marry me!”—he simply shot back, “Are you insane?”

During the entire carriage ride back, he had been absorbing and reflecting on everything he had gained and learned.

Because of that, he hadn’t anticipated this kind of welcome.

Maybe that’s why it felt even more gratifying.

If he had never dreamed of a moment like this when he set out to become a knight, it would be a lie.

There was a child he had protected.

A mother who had held that child.

There were people grateful that he had saved their sons.

A craftsman who gifted him boots.

Inside the walls of this city, there were people.

People who lived their lives day by day.

And his sword had protected them.

If that wasn’t satisfying, then what was?

But the world was still ruthless.

The Demon Wastes would continue spewing forth monsters.

The monsters would give birth to more beasts.

The wars between races and factions would always be fought at the cost of countless lives.

The war would never end.

A knight who ends battles.

A knight who stands at the end of the world.

As Enkrid reaffirmed his dream, he stepped into the barracks.

It was midwinter now.

Spring was still far away.

For most, the days ahead wouldn’t feel particularly long.

But for Enkrid, three lifetimes of today had passed.

And that made this return from the battlefield feel endless.

***

"Did you finally get rid of that stray cat?"

Rem's words came out of nowhere as Enkrid was resting in the barracks.

Before he could even answer, Rem nodded to himself.

"Good. Good."

He was obviously talking about Jaxon—and if Enkrid confirmed it, he’d probably be even more amused.

Not that he looked like he actually believed it.

It felt more like he was asking just for the sake of it, without really caring.

Enkrid answered just as indifferently.

"It’s not like he’s mine to keep or throw away."

"So if you didn’t get rid of him, where did that prickly cat run off to?"

For that matter, Esther, an actual leopard, was nowhere to be seen either.

She had vanished the moment they arrived, probably busy with something.

"What if he died?"

Enkrid asked, curious about Rem’s reaction.

Why was death not even considered?

He had fought Azpen, and he had lost count of how many times he’d nearly died.

Rem snorted.

"Like hell that bastard would die."

It was a roundabout way of acknowledging his strength.

"Hm."

By that logic, did he believe Enkrid wouldn’t die so easily either?

As the thought crossed his mind, Rem spoke again.

"The Captain’s got a thing going on with Lady Luck.

Of course you survived."

It was complete nonsense—but from an outsider’s perspective, it made sense.

How had he survived?

If he had to answer that question honestly, he wouldn’t even know where to start.

"Pure luck."

It wasn’t as simple as waving it off with that usual excuse.

Rem lost interest in Jaxon just as quickly.

Instead, he started poking at Enkrid’s side, urging him to spill the details of what had happened.

So Enkrid told them.

Audin chimed in every now and then.

"Dislocated? You lacked muscle, brother."

"Quarrels piercing your back? You should develop back muscles thick enough to block them, brother."

Muscles that arrows couldn’t penetrate?

Unless he had hardened skin like a giant, that was physically impossible.

It wasn’t just Rem and Audin listening.

Everyone had their ears open.

Even Ragna, who rarely showed much interest, was paying close attention.

But the one listening most intently was Kraiss.

Of course, that was only natural.

At Green Pearl’s garrison, he had wanted to ask—but when would he have had the chance?

That damn Garett had latched onto Enkrid and refused to let go.

On the way back, he had considered asking in the carriage, but Enkrid had shut his eyes and never opened them.

The atmosphere had been impossible to break.

So now was the time.

How did he escape?

Kraiss had already investigated the battlefield where Enkrid had been trapped.

He had examined it thoroughly.

He had retraced Azpen’s retreating commanders, piecing things together from their remnants.

Witchcraft. Magic.

He hadn’t heard everything, but he had gathered enough to understand what had happened.

In the end, it all came down to this:

They had thrown everything they had to take down one man.

And he had failed to see it coming.

For that, Kraiss blamed himself.

My own thinking nearly got the Captain killed.

He had been the one to propose creating a variable.

Sure, Enkrid had made the choice himself—but still.

Kraiss knew he had been completely played.

They read me.

The enemy had seen through his intentions completely.

He had walked straight into their trap.

It was embarrassing to think about.

Hadn’t he always wondered what went on inside the heads of the commanders in his own army?

Hadn’t he often—no, constantly—thought they were too predictable?

At first, he had believed they were pretending not to know things on purpose.

But now, he understood.

People had different limits to their thoughts.

I was arrogant.

His reflection was brief.

Enkrid had already told him it was fine, so he wasn’t dwelling in guilt.

But there was still one thing he didn’t understand.

"How did you escape?"

Kraiss finally asked the question.

The trap had been inescapable.

A battlefield woven into a hunting ground, with the earth itself turned into a snare.

A thousand soldiers.

An entire landscape manipulated in their favor.

"No one could have escaped."

Unless they were a knight.

But Enkrid wasn’t a knight.

At least, that’s what he thought.

And yet, there was that one knight who had swung their sword at him.

That knight had left, looking relieved.

Kraiss had felt relieved, too—but he had also been on edge, waiting for the possibility that the knight might change their mind and come back.

The thought had squeezed his chest with anxiety.

How many knights did Azpen even have?

Three at most?

And yet, one of them had come all the way here just to cut down Enkrid?

It was hard to believe.

So he needed to ask.

How had he escaped?

He wasn’t a knight.

He hadn’t seen through the enemy’s plans beforehand.

He had walked into the trap.

Could luck have been enough?

Unless Lady Luck herself grabbed his wrist and dragged him out of there...

It didn’t make sense.

Kraiss had always been a realist.

His mind cut through fantasy and wishful thinking.

Luck alone couldn’t explain it.

His eyes shone with genuine curiosity.

Enkrid had no reason to hide the truth.

So he answered plainly.

"Instinct."

Silence fell.

A winter wind howled through the barracks.

Rem was the first to react.

He started chuckling.

"Pfffft.

Knew it."

The others followed suit.

"...Instinct?"

Kraiss tilted his head, while Audin began to pray.

"Oh, Father, was it You who guided him?"

Dunbakel scrunched her nose and asked with genuine curiosity,

"How do you train something like that?"

Of course, no one had an answer.

Teresa simply stared at Enkrid.

Since meeting him, he had never once lied.

Which meant this was the truth.

It was incredible.

Could someone really escape a battlefield like that on instinct alone?

Despite her injuries, a hunger stirred inside her.

She wanted to pick up her sword.

She wanted to stand across from him with her shield raised.

As her fighting spirit flared,

"Sister."

Audin’s voice came, gentle yet firm.

He placed a hand on her shoulder.

A silent warning: If you don’t calm down, I’ll beat the hell out of you.

Teresa knew she wasn’t in fighting condition.

And she had no desire to be pummeled by Audin.

She wasn’t a beast.

She was only half-giant.

"Yes, I know.

Drifting Teresa will restrain herself."

Referring to herself objectively, she acknowledged the moment wasn’t right.

Meanwhile, Ragna had dozed off in a corner.

He had listened for a bit, but now he was back to his usual self.

Even after hearing his own name in the cheers earlier, he remained the same—

indifferent to the world.

Kraiss, deep in thought, finally spoke again.

"Tell me more."

It wasn’t something that could be summed up in one word.

So Enkrid ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) explained.

And Kraiss understood.

"You're talking about a sense of danger... a feel for the battlefield?

That kind of thing actually works?"

He murmured.

Enkrid silently nodded.

It does. But it wasn’t easy.

To develop that instinct, he had to die in countless different ways before it truly settled into his body.

That wasn’t something to complain about.

Hadn’t he gained something valuable from it?

During the half-asleep journey back, Enkrid had been busy sorting through everything he had.

And from that, he had learned even more.

"That’s incredible."

Kraiss’s eyes gleamed, despite there being no gold at stake.

That was a rare thing.

He wasn’t usually interested in anything without coin involved.

Days passed quickly after Enkrid’s return.

There was talk about holding a banquet, but there was too much work to do after the battle.

First, they had to deal with the bodies.

Both the fallen soldiers and the beasts had to be taken care of.

Wolf-beast pelts could fetch a decent price if skinned properly.

It required tanning, but luckily, the Border Guard had an entire leatherworking guild stationed there.

Still, it was a lot of work.

They had to deliver compensation to the families of the dead, bury or burn the bodies.

For a while, the fires outside the fortress wouldn’t go out.

Greyham genuinely wanted to host a banquet, but there was no time.

Letters arrived without rest, and now, unexpected guests were showing up.

Among them, two particularly important visitors had come specifically looking for Enkrid.

The problem was—

"He can’t see them right now."

Greyham broke into a cold sweat at his aide’s words.

"...Why?"

"The soldiers are blocking them.

They said he mustn’t be disturbed."

Shit.

Greyham decided to stall for time.

If those maniacs started acting up, there’d be no stopping them.

Better for him to handle this here than deal with the mess they’d make.

Being the fortress lord was really no easy job.

"Sigh."

For just a moment, Greyham missed the days when he had been just a heavy infantry captain.

A weary sigh escaped him.