A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

Graham’s lieutenant hesitated before voicing his concern.

"Can we really just leave him?"

It didn’t feel right.

They had just handed Enkrid over to some noble or a merchant guild master or whatever the hell he was.

Sure, they had found the man he was supposed to meet.

But wasn’t this something the lord could handle himself?

Of course, he couldn’t say all of that out loud.

So instead, he kept his question short.

Lord Graham responded while gripping his sword.

"And what if we don’t leave him?"

He lowered his blade slowly.

"I’m still the lord. If they don’t like it, they’ll have to take my head."

The lieutenant had a nagging feeling that Graham had been far too willing to gamble his own life lately.

But he didn’t say anything.

Because honestly?

If Enkrid really wanted to, taking over as lord would probably be effortless.

And more than anything—

Graham looked like he had already made peace with losing his head.

"Understood."

The lieutenant accepted it.

There was nothing more to say.

Instead, he simply watched his lord.

For the first time in a long while, Graham looked completely absorbed in something.

His eyes were half-lidded, his grip steady as he slowly lowered his sword.

"A crushing blade?"

Had Enkrid’s swordplay only left an impression on Esther?

No.

Graham’s heart was pounding.

His pulse raced.

An uncontrollable hunger and yearning coiled within him like a fire spiraling upward.

Emotion became fuel, driving his body into motion.

"Ah."

As his blade sliced through the air, a sudden realization struck him.

Graham thought about the training he had been doing—

Not just yesterday or the day before.

But for weeks.

He hadn’t been neglecting it.

No, he had trained.

But had he truly given it his all?

Had he done his best?

No.

He hadn’t.

He had let himself stagnate.

He had settled.

Had he used his duties as lord as an excuse?

Had he convinced himself that he had nowhere else to go?

Where had the fire he once had gone?

Could he say all of that to that kid’s face?

To Enkrid?

The boy who once dreamed of knighthood.

Who was now walking that path.

When he first joined the army, people had done nothing but mock him.

Rumors spread that he was selling his body to his own soldiers.

Back then, he was barely a low-level foot soldier.

But Graham had watched him change.

And that was enough to shake him.

This realization, this awakening through the sword, had made him reflect on his entire life.

"Being a lord doesn’t mean I have to stop wielding my blade."

Graham had never been particularly smart.

Which was why—

He had delegated most of his work to his lieutenant.

And when even that wasn’t enough—

He had started passing things off to Kraiss, the sharp-witted tactician of the Mad Platoon.

He had cut human interactions to the bare minimum.

Now, all he wanted was to swing his sword.

His lieutenant couldn’t stop him.

Because he felt the same.

"Would you care for a match?"

He was a veteran heavy infantryman.

A battle-hardened soldier.

Now, he served as Graham’s personal guard.

And he had seen everything.

He had seen Enkrid’s growth.

He had witnessed his battles.

It was impossible not to be affected.

"Come. I’ll show you the difference between us."

Graham nodded.

But they weren’t the only ones affected.

It had rippled through the entire army.

Even the Fairy Company Commander was no exception.

Shinar practiced with her twin daggers, repeating the same motion over and over.

Polishing. Refining.

Her inspiration?

The back of Enkrid as he faced a knight.

"He blocks it."

That was all she needed to know.

Sensitivity allowed one to read emotions.

And emotions, in turn, allowed one to glimpse intent.

The stronger someone’s will, the clearer it became.

Which was why Shinar had felt it so vividly—

"Even if I die."

"Even if my ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) body is torn apart."

"Even if my heart shatters."

I. Will. Block. It.

What kind of madman could be like that?

Someone who poured every fiber of their being into one thing and forgot everything else.

And what had lurked beneath that unyielding will?

It wasn’t fear.

It wasn’t the absence of pain.

It was exhilaration.

He didn’t lack fear.

He didn’t ignore pain.

He simply drowned it in joy.

The ecstasy of the moment made everything else fade.

He lived entirely in the present.

"He’s insane."

Shinar had no doubt.

The man had a screw loose.

But despite that—

Thinking about him sent a thrill through her.

Fairies were supposed to control their emotions.

They weren’t supposed to feel this kind of rush.

But right now?

She had forgotten about control.

Her daggers danced.

Precision gave way to fluidity.

She let the energy inside her move freely.

She didn’t hold back.

All she wanted was to swing her blades.

And it was all because of that damn human’s back.

***

"If he can do it, why can’t I?"

Enkrid’s battles had ignited a fire in the entire platoon.

Especially among the swordsmen.

There were soldiers who had followed him here from Greenpearl.

Some of them had witnessed his fights firsthand.

Some had even joined the Mad Platoon just to prove themselves.

One of them was Jansеn.

And he was running his mouth.

A border guard soldier finally had enough.

"You talk a lot. You any good?"

Jansеn turned his head.

"I can hold my own."

He had fought in the last battle.

He had watched Enkrid every day.

He had trained harder than ever before.

His confidence was earned.

"Bell, go easy on him."

Another soldier muttered.

That stung.

Bell, his opponent, simply nodded.

It was clear—he was ready to fight.

"You’ll get hurt."

Jansеn warned.

"Then let’s both get hurt."

Bell replied.

Bell was a Mad Platoon soldier.

He had gone through intense training.

That afternoon, Jansеn saw stars.

He took a fist to the forehead, then a hook to the temple.

He went down.

A difference in skill.

But more than that—

A difference in mindset.

"Does it hurt?"

Bell wiped the sweat from his brow.

"There’s plenty of guys like me here."

Jansеn looked up.

"Jansеn."

"Welcome aboard."

And just like that, he became one of them.

But he wasn’t the only one.

Those who had witnessed Enkrid threw themselves into training.

Sweat poured.

Even without formal drills, they pushed themselves.

The camp looked like a gathering of madmen.

Of course, not everyone trained.

Some slacked off.

No one forced them.

But they all knew.

"If I don’t train while everyone else does...?"

It would show on the battlefield.

The stimulation kept spreading.

And Rem was no exception.

He swung his axe.

Despite the lingering chill of winter, he had shed his heated pelt.

It was a rare sight.

"Are you feeling unwell?"

Kraiss, passing by, looked concerned.

"If you don’t want me to plant this axe in your skull, get lost."

Kraiss wisely got lost.

After Rem, Dunbakel also trained like a man desperate to outrun a pursuer.

Rem no longer tormented her as before, but whenever necessary, he sparred, trained, and gave advice.

"Are all beastfolk as stupid as you?"

"That’s a racist remark."

"So what? You wanna die?"

At times, it seemed like Rem was just taking out his frustrations on her—

But in the end, it was a good thing.

Dunbakel learned everything she needed to—even if it was through beatings.

Audin also noticed the changes.

Ragna had changed.

His commander had changed.

And he had felt it.

Deeply.

Thus, Audin, too, was lost in thought for a moment.

At least it was Ragna.

Because if Rem had been the one to change first—

The barbarian would have gone on a rampage, challenging everyone to a fight.

He would have asserted dominance and reveled in the thrill.

But Ragna didn’t.

He was still lazy.

Sure, he now swung his sword and sparred regularly with the commander,

But he didn’t provoke them to suppress them.

More than anything, he had been absent-minded lately.

Just staring into space.

Rarely leaving his barracks.

Even so, Audin was uneasy.

"He advanced first."

He thought to himself.

"Is it time to break my own restraints?"

If Rem had been the one to change, he would have had to seriously reconsider everything.

But for now—

It wasn’t the time.

Audin had found his own answer, but he doubted the ones who had placed restrictions on him would accept it.

So—

"Retrace your steps, for within them lies the answer to what blocks your path."

He recited scripture and prayed.

Then, in the rest of his time, he rebuilt himself—

Strengthening his body layer by layer.

That was the source of Audin’s power.

From the beginning to the present, he reexamined every step of his growth.

He went through every change in his body one by one.

Enkrid had advanced.

And so, those around him also advanced.

The entire camp was stirred.

Quiet, but heated.

Fiery, yet steady.

The transformation within the barracks was undeniable.

Before, similar sparks had spread.

But this time, even the city lord was involved.

It wasn’t just affecting the camp—

It was reshaping the city itself.

A Merchant’s Proposal

"Could you possibly get a better deal than this?!"

Enkrid had already forgotten the man’s name.

He considered glancing toward Graham—

Only to remember he wasn’t there.

During Count Molsen’s visit, Graham had at least bothered to show his face.

But now?

He had just dumped this merchant noble on him.

"Is this how you treat a war hero?"

Even if it felt embarrassing to call himself one—

Wasn’t dumping people on him like this a bit much?

Wasn’t he the city lord?

Enkrid suddenly felt the urge to spar with Graham.

There was a lot he could learn from him.

Like how to fall properly, how to take a hit, and maybe even how to pass out painlessly.

"She’s my daughter, but she’s also the most beautiful woman in our territory!"

The toad-like noble-merchant exclaimed.

His daughter—more human than toad—gave him a shy smile, making brief eye contact before looking away.

Should I kill them?

Of course, he couldn’t.

Beating them up?

"Are you Rem? Are you the commander or is Rem?"

Kraiss’s nagging echoed in his mind.

To make matters worse, Shinar was busy today, leaving him with no backup.

And Esther was locked away in meditation.

Should I have brought Rem?

At least he could have let Rem go berserk and ended this quickly.

Not to mention—

He was supposed to spar with Rem this morning.

The delay annoyed him.

But taking it out on these people would have been pointless.

Instead, Enkrid spoke politely while his mind was elsewhere.

He was already mentally sparring with Rem.

Imagining the arc of his axe.

"So he’s using a sling now?"

How should he dodge it?

He didn’t know.

All he could do was face it head-on and learn.

The process of experience and realization awaited him.

And he was desperate to engage in it.

Regardless of his patience, Enkrid was already done with this conversation.

He had wasted enough time.

More than a cup of tea’s worth.

Not that he had sipped it slowly.

He had gulped it down.

"So? Hm? What do you think?"

The noble grinned, expecting a response.

"I’m leaving."

Enkrid stated bluntly as he stood.

"Huh? Hey! I’m a noble! I run all the trade in this region!"

The man started listing his credentials.

Enkrid didn’t even spare him a glance.

He was too busy imagining the moment his sword clashed against Rem’s axe.

Who cared if he controlled regional trade?

Wasn’t that the city lord’s problem?

If this man were truly important, Graham would’ve dealt with him.

Thus, Enkrid bore no responsibility.

It was a ridiculous justification.

But not incorrect.

As Enkrid walked away, the noble-merchant sat in shock.

No—

He wasn’t just shocked.

The man had been outright rejected.

And he wasn’t the first.

How many people had Enkrid brushed aside?

Too many.

Some of them had even begun harboring grudges.

"That bastard."

The noble gritted his teeth.

His jaw muscles bulged beneath his skin.

His daughter, meanwhile, was on the verge of tears.

This man—

Had never even looked her in the eye.

It was humiliating.

Kraiss watched it all from the doorway.

The unwelcome visitors finally stormed off.

Kraiss sighed.

He already knew where this was going.

A mess was bound to follow.

Why wouldn’t it?

It was obvious.

But the ones who were supposed to handle this?

They were all insane.

It should have made him furious.

But instead—

Kraiss was ecstatic.

Because when things got messy—

That meant gold.

"Let’s see how this plays out."

The noble shouted in frustration.

But Kraiss wasn’t worried.

As he turned away, a woman peered out from behind him.

"Are you saying you want someone to act as a shield for the merchants?"

She asked.

Kraiss blinked his large eyes.

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

"Playing dumb?"

Her lips twitched.

It was clear she was holding back a curse.

Kraiss ignored it.

Because she was right.

The merchant groups were getting restless over control of Border Guard’s trade.

It was a power vacuum.

And if someone filled it—

The problem would be solved.

The most suitable candidate had arrived in the city last night.

The Gilpin Guild’s sources were faster than the gate guards.

Kraiss turned back and gave a formal greeting.

"I should introduce myself properly. I apologize for the delay, Lady Leona Lockfried."

"Oh, you’re so quick with greetings."

Leona smirked.

Both of them had something to gain.

Thus—

Negotiations began.

And neither side intended to make it easy.

Of course—

Kraiss wasn’t planning to waste too much time on this, either.