A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

When he woke up in the morning, Enkrid trained with Audin in the Isolation Technique. Afterward, he slowly swung his sword, meticulously controlling every muscle movement, before continuing his sparring sessions with Rem.

Between sessions, he made sure to eat his meals, sometimes snacking on herbal pies.

Given the sheer amount of physical activity, his eating and... other bodily functions were naturally just as intense.

Eating in large amounts was a given.

Outside of eating, sleeping, and relieving himself, Enkrid pushed his body to the limit like a madman.

The moment his body fully recovered, the first thing he did was break apart his barracks.

And after that?

Knowing how to observe himself, he pondered once again and resumed his relentless training. 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

Kraiss had indeed pulled some strings—no one else had come looking for him.

That was a welcome relief.

So much so that he had even declared he would no longer be accepting tribute from the Gilpin Guild.

But then, someone had insisted on meeting him.

When he stepped out of the barracks, an unexpected face greeted him.

"Did you get even more handsome?"

A muttered remark, accompanied by a smile.

That smile, that face—it was familiar.

Leona Lockfried.

The owner of a trade caravan and, once upon a time, a companion who had shared a night of conversation with him.

As Enkrid silently observed her, Leona smiled and asked,

"Surely, you haven’t forgotten my name?"

"There’s no way I’d forget."

She was certainly a memorable person.

Back then, she had asked if they could be friends.

A curious proposition, coming from a woman who had overthrown the previous caravan leader’s son and taken over the trade business for herself.

That night, they had eaten herbal pies, sipped on pumpkin soup, and strolled through the market together.

They had stayed up all night, exchanging jokes and talking about anything and everything.

But just because someone suggested friendship didn’t mean they immediately became close.

Still, a fondness had lingered.

A fondness that had nothing to do with romance—simply a human connection.

Now standing before him as the leader of her caravan, Leona wore sleek leather pants, a white shirt, and a fur-lined vest.

Her shirt was made from a material unlike anything Enkrid had seen before.

And the first thought that crossed his mind?

That fabric, if woven thicker, would make for excellent gambeson lining.

It was only natural for someone like him to think about battle, combat, and swords at all times.

Regardless, the two stood face to face in front of the barracks.

Kraiss, observing the scene, muttered,

"Where exactly does she see the handsomeness?"

Enkrid hadn’t shaved, his body was drenched in sweat, and he hadn’t even bothered to wash.

His hair, long overdue for a trim, was unkempt and damp with sweat, partially dried in uneven patches.

In other words—he looked utterly disheveled.

Kraiss wrinkled his nose.

To make matters worse, Enkrid didn’t exactly smell pleasant either.

In Kraiss’s mind, seduction wasn’t about having a handsome face.

The most important thing was atmosphere.

Even the most conventionally attractive man, with large eyes, a straight nose, and full lips, couldn’t outshine someone with the right aura.

And what created that aura?

It was a combination of factors.

"Scent, gaze, demeanor, appearance, a well-trained body."

Of course, looks mattered, but they weren’t everything.

That was how Kraiss saw it.

So, did Enkrid currently exude an irresistible allure for women?

If he were a swordman obsessed with duels, maybe.

But right now? Absolutely not.

The idea of him having a demonic charm was downright laughable.

"You really should wash up first."

"Waste of time."

Enkrid didn’t even bother turning his head as he replied.

His mind was occupied with memories, revisiting past experiences.

To say he had no time to turn his head would be more accurate.

"A single night of rest."

There had been no signals of romance, no physical intimacy.

Just conversation.

Rest.

And what had Enkrid gained from that moment of respite?

It was something he could never forget.

A sense of awareness.

He had reexamined the trajectory of his sword swings, the placement of his feet before striking, the movement of his shoulders.

And then, he had learned how to swiftly connect those points into a single line.

It was during that time that he had grasped a fragment of what it meant to be fast.

But what he had acquired wasn’t the important part.

It was the process that mattered.

Recalling that process brought back the sensation he had felt back then.

Not that he intended to act on it immediately.

This was merely about making slight adjustments to refine his path.

He was already on the right track—this was just an extra nudge in the right direction.

So, for now, he decided to focus on greeting an old friend he hadn’t seen in a long time.

"You really have changed."

Leona, staring directly into Enkrid’s eyes, spoke.

She was the leader of a trade caravan.

Naturally, she had an exceptional ability to read people.

Her comment about him looking better had been half in jest, half in earnest.

It wasn’t about his appearance.

His atmosphere was different.

"Strange."

He had changed.

It was hard to put into words.

Leona could only feel it.

A woman’s intuition, as well as the instincts of a merchant.

Then again, he had changed enough to achieve great feats and make a name for himself.

In the capital, in neighboring cities—there wasn’t a place where Enkrid’s name wasn’t known.

"Have I gotten more wrinkles?"

Enkrid quipped casually.

"You’re just saying that to tease me, aren’t you?"

Leona shot back.

The two exchanged amused glances.

Should they go somewhere for tea?

Just as Enkrid had the thought, Kraiss made a gesture, and a few soldiers hurried over with a table and chairs.

The level of preparation was almost comical.

Enkrid had sharp instincts.

If Kraiss had specifically called him out here, there had to be a reason.

"You can’t exactly keep standing while chatting. The captain is busy, after all."

Kraiss mimicked a sword swing with both hands as he spoke.

Leona knew full well how obsessed with training Enkrid was.

Back when there had been issues with her caravan in Border Guard, hadn’t he suddenly started sparring in the middle of it all?

Later on, she had even taken the time to watch his training.

Enkrid shot Kraiss a sideways glance.

That King Eyeball bastard was definitely up to something.

Leona, unconcerned, took a seat in the chair the soldiers had prepared.

Her eyes remained fixed on Enkrid.

Behind her stood Mathis, the bodyguard she had with her last time.

And another man.

A strikingly handsome figure with blond hair and blue eyes.

From Kraiss’s perspective, this man knew how to create an appealing atmosphere.

He curled his lips into a smooth, charming smile and stood at ease behind Leona.

"So, what brings you here?"

"Would you believe me if I said I came to see a friend?"

"Hardly."

"You got me."

Leona smiled.

"It’s business with the caravan. But it’s always nice to see a friend along the way, isn’t it?"

Enkrid smiled in return.

It wasn’t a bad meeting at all.

That said, the tea was awful.

It was the kind of tea served when you wanted to get rid of visitors.

A subtle way of saying, drink this quickly and leave.

"On purpose?"

Of course.

Kraiss’s intentions were painfully obvious.

The way he pretended not to notice when their eyes briefly met was infuriatingly smug.

Enkrid refocused on Leona.

They exchanged a few words about business.

"It’s honestly amazing. You do realize how famous you are now, right? I knew this would happen. I should’ve dragged you into the caravan when I had the chance."

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

"Do caravans need swordsmen that often?"

"Of course. We’re not a settled trade group, after all."

Enkrid listened.

It was an interesting topic.

But there was more to it.

And both of them knew it.

"So, are you married?"

"I’m not."

"And that pixie?"

Leona whispered playfully.

"People like to joke about her being my fiancée."

"Tch. Boring."

"And what about you, Leona?"

"I’m already engaged—to my caravan."

"Is that so?"

"It’s a lie."

Leona chuckled.

"I do have a fiancé, but I’m not sure about it yet. It’s more of a political arrangement, and if things go well elsewhere, I might not go through with it. But don’t get any ideas, Enki. I’m not about to start flirting with you. If I get rejected once, that’s the end of it for me. So, you’d better regret not falling for my charms back then."

"Sure. I’ll regret it every now and then."

"Regret is something you should suffer through constantly, not just every now and then."

"I’m busy."

"Swinging that sword of yours?"

"You know me well."

As the teasing continued, both of them laughed.

For a moment, Enkrid felt like he was a child again.

Leona had a way of making people feel at ease.

Was that a talent she had as a merchant, or was it just her natural way of showing consideration for others?

It didn’t really matter.

Right now, all that mattered was that he was enjoying the moment.

As they exchanged a few more words, Kraiss suddenly cut in.

"A political marriage? That’s absurd."

Here?

Now?

"Ah, exactly. I keep telling you, I don’t really want it."

"That’s what I’m saying. Captain, don’t you agree?"

"...About what?"

Kraiss kicked Enkrid’s foot under the table.

Then, as if parched, he theatrically took a sip of the tea.

This, despite being the very same Kraiss who had sworn he would never drink it, calling it literal shit water.

Enkrid got the picture.

A relationship built on necessity.

That was what this was.

Kraiss and Leona’s situation.

There was a reason that awful tea had been served.

It was to signal what kind of meeting this was.

Lockfried needed a settlement.

Border Guard needed a shield against external nuisances.

Their interests aligned.

Enkrid smirked.

What a conniving bastard.

It was now obvious why he had been summoned here.

This was a classic case of using charm and personal connections to gain leverage.

See? Your friend is here. Are you really going to refuse?

It was a dirty move.

Kraiss only ever acted like this for one reason.

"How much were you promised?"

Enkrid asked, cutting straight to the point.

There had to have been a deal with the lord.

He had seen through everything.

But Kraiss didn’t flinch.

When gold was on the line, he could be an exceptional actor, a master impersonator, and a dazzling storyteller.

"What are you talking about?"

"She came here as a friend."

If Kraiss wanted to use friendship to gain an upper hand, he had to remember—Enkrid was also Leona’s friend.

"You’re making baseless accusations..."

"Oh, it’s fine."

Surprisingly, Leona sided with Enkrid.

To him, her words sounded like: I won’t be fooled by petty tricks, but I also won’t stoop to using them myself.

"I’m leaving."

Enkrid stood up.

From this point on, this wasn’t his problem.

"See you next time."

Leona smiled and raised her hand in a casual farewell.

Enkrid took it, bringing the back of her hand to /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ his lips before turning away.

A proper, formal gesture.

He had heard and learned about such etiquette in various places.

Even as a former mercenary, he had once earned gold escorting noblewomen at banquets.

"This really is a damn salon."

Kraiss muttered.

As Enkrid turned to leave, someone else stopped him.

"You—wait."

It was Mathis.

He tried to keep his expression neutral, but his surprise was evident.

He had heard the rumors but found them hard to believe.

He had seen Enkrid before.

And now, hearing that this man had become so famous?

He had thought it was half-exaggeration, half-lie.

But looking at him now, his composure was undeniable.

If his eyes weren’t deceiving him, this man was the real deal.

"Do you have time for a duel?"

Mathis asked.

Enkrid had stepped out in the middle of training.

At his waist hung three swords—his gladius, his silver-bladed longsword, and Flicker.

"Whenever you’re ready."

There was no rejection.

Leona didn’t try to stop it either.

She knew Mathis well.

If he had stepped forward before she could say anything, it meant something had ignited within him.

Ping.

Their swords left their scabbards.

For a moment, they studied each other.

Then, as if on cue, their blades met in the center.

A clean clash.

Clang. Clang. Clang.

Three times, their swords tested each other’s weight and movement.

It was an unspoken courtesy in a duel—to give the opponent time to warm up.

Right after the third exchange, Mathis committed.

He slashed with full intent.

He was a city-level warrior, someone who knew how to make his presence known.

"City-level warrior? Bullshit. A sword to the gut kills everyone just the same."

Rem scoffed from the sidelines.

Still, there was no denying that Mathis was a recognized powerhouse.

But even so—

Ping.

The moment their blades touched, Mathis realized—

His opponent wasn’t slower than him.

He tried to press down with his blade.

His style combined heavy and fluid swordplay to suppress his opponent’s weapon.

But before he could execute it—

Enkrid’s sword had already flicked his aside and thrust forward.

A seamless motion, simultaneously deflecting and attacking.

A serpent’s strike.

A feint so refined that the blade seemed to curve like a real snake.

Mathis stared at the silver-glowing blade hovering just before his throat.

Not only had Enkrid barely exerted himself—

His swordsmanship was also at a level far beyond his own.

"Hah."

A bitter chuckle escaped Mathis.

Compared to the man he had once seen—this was a completely different person.

The difference in skill was unmistakable.

Even if he hadn’t let his guard down, he would have lost all the same.

"Well then."

Enkrid wasn’t one to comfort a defeated opponent.

He simply turned away.

At the same time, he knew Mathis would rise again.

He wasn’t a knight.

He was a warrior serving the caravan.

He would know what his duty was and act accordingly.

Behind him, Kraiss had already begun the negotiations.

Hearing his words, Enkrid smirked.

"That bastard."

Now he saw exactly what Kraiss had been after.

"Alright, now that we’ve settled what Border Guard will provide and what we expect from you..."

Kraiss had never intended for this deal to drag on.

By dragging Enkrid into the meeting, he had forced Leona to reveal her hand.

Otherwise, neither of them would be able to face Enkrid again, so they had to act in good faith.

He had been summoned to play referee.

That scheming mind of his...

It really might be the best on the continent.

No wonder he could handle so many different affairs without a hitch.

Afterward, the Lockfried Caravan set up their trading post in Border Guard.

Naturally, local merchants resisted.

But the caravan held firm, conceding where necessary and eliminating threats where needed.

It only took a month to establish themselves.

And in that time—

Enkrid swung his sword.

Every single day.

As if reliving the same moment over and over.

He could do it without feeling like he was progressing.

But now—he felt himself improving.

The past month hadn’t been wasted.

"Having fun?"

During a sparring session, Rem asked.

Enkrid smirked.

"Obviously."

If he weren’t enjoying it, how could he keep going like this?

Rem admitted it then.

Their captain was truly insane.

Not long ago, he had nearly been sent to the afterlife by her axe.

Even the Ferry Captain, watching it all unfold, couldn’t help but praise him for the third time.

"What the hell is inside that head of yours?"

It was a rhetorical question.

After all, what else could be in the mind of a man who only swung his sword for a month straight?

The answer was already clear.