A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

"Even if you're busy, you still have to do your duties."

Enkrid wondered whether seeing him off was truly a necessary task, but since the other party had already put it that way, he couldn’t simply tell them to go back.

More than anything else—

‘Still, it’s nice to see them.’

Of course, Crang wasn’t alone. No matter how regularly he cleared out monsters and beasts around the kingdom, danger was always present.

Matthew and Squire Rophod were there, along with the bodyguard wielding a trident whom Enkrid had met before.

In addition, there were five more warriors selected from the Royal Guard.

They nodded slightly upon seeing Enkrid.

It was a gesture of respect toward the hero who had saved the country. Enkrid returned the greeting with a slight movement of his neck.

It was a small group for a guard detail, but this was likely not all of them.

It would be standard procedure to have at least one unit stationed nearby in case things went south.

‘Marcus would do something like that.’

While thinking this, Matthew approached and asked,

"You're leaving now?"

From the first time they met until now—

Matthew’s thoughts had changed significantly.

At first, he had viewed Enkrid as an insufferably arrogant man, but now, if someone were to ask, “Who saved this country?” he would unhesitatingly name the man standing before him.

‘My lord, forgive me.’

It wasn’t Crang who had led them to victory in the civil war—it was Enkrid, the Demon Slayer.

Crang himself would probably nod and acknowledge that.

"Yeah. What, are you disappointed?"

Enkrid tightened his grip on his sword’s hilt. Matthew had been about to ask if it wouldn’t be better for him to stay, if there wasn’t still much he could do for his lord.

But then, suddenly, Enkrid acted as if he was about to attack.

"Come at me. If you’re sad to see me go, you shouldn’t be."

‘Ah, this crazy bastard.’

Enkrid genuinely thought Matthew had come because he was reluctant to part. Bell, who was standing behind them, shook his head.

‘A lunatic obsessed with the sword. A dueling maniac. There isn’t a single normal thing about him.’

Well, that was precisely why it was worth following him. After all, normality was the opposite of uniqueness.

Bell didn’t want his own path to become an ordinary one. That was why he was here.

"I’m still not fully healed," Matthew said.

The injury he had sustained before had been close to a grievous wound.

Enkrid and his group were the abnormal ones.

They had fought their way through wraiths. Any normal person would have been bedridden for at least a month.

‘And yet they’re already up and sparring after just a few days?’

That was unnatural. Matthew, in contrast, was normal.

"I wish to follow you, sir. I have come here to humbly ask for your permission."

It was Squire Rophod. His manner was extremely formal.

Enkrid knew that he was a squire of the Crimson Mantle Order.

"Weren’t you part of the Order?"

"Aisia-senpai has arranged for an extended assignment. I could have just left the Order outright, but..."

Rophod's face was filled with determination. He looked at the man who had changed his entire outlook on life.

It was a conclusion he had reached after long contemplation.

‘I will learn the sword—not just the sword, but life itself—by his side.’

Rophod had once been indecisive, but now he had swung to the opposite extreme, making his decisions with almost reckless boldness.

That had nothing to do with Enkrid.

"Take him with you. He’s looking at you like that."

"Sure, why not."

Crang interjected, and Enkrid nodded. Rophod bowed deeply, overcome with gratitude. If left unchecked, he might even swear fealty.

That, in itself, would be a problem—but making an oath of loyalty in front of Crang, to someone other than him? That was an even greater absurdity.

If a knight's squire were to pledge loyalty to someone who wasn’t even a fellow knight, but a mere company commander, it would be close to treason.

Of course, Crang wouldn’t have cared even if he had seen it.

"I heard Shinar left ahead of you?"

Crang asked. He had a connection of sorts with Shinar, but he had been too busy to check in.

"He had somewhere he needed to stop by."

He had said he had to deliver news about the fairy he had killed.

Enkrid simply relayed what he had seen and heard. Less than a day after the battle ended, Shinar had applied ointment to the wound on his thigh, wrapped it with bandages, and set off.

Crang had not changed even after becoming king. Neither had Enkrid.

They traveled together for three days.

Since their luggage was loaded onto the carriage, there wasn’t much to do.

For three days, Crang watched Enkrid train.

To an outsider, it might have looked like they were trying to kill each other, but they called it sparring.

Matthew, watching from the side, flinched more than once. The techniques they used were dangerous, and there were moments that made his breath catch.

Even outside of sparring, Enkrid never stopped swinging his sword.

While sitting in the carriage, he practiced hand strikes as if training an imaginary opponent. When asked what he was doing, he simply called it a makeshift duel.

Crang nodded with a faint smile.

‘Still the same lunatic.’

At one point, a band of brigands attempted to ambush them. It was an extremely unfortunate event. Unless they had spat on the statue of the goddess of fortune, there was no way they could have been this unlucky.

"Hey, hand over everything you’ve got and scram. We’ll let you live."

A few of them carried swords. Even with Rem, who had a fearsome presence, and Audin, who was built like a fortress, they still dared to stand in their way.

At this point, the problem wasn’t luck—it was their intelligence.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Or maybe they simply had too much faith in the crossbows aimed from behind.

Crime had been rampant even before the civil war, but now, it had become utterly lawless.

Crang didn’t even bother sighing. He had wandered the continent long enough to see this play out countless times.

"Hey, you. You need to prove your worth, right? You think we’ll just accept anyone who tags along?"

Upon seeing the brigands, Rem nudged Bell forward. Enkrid, listening to their exchange, wondered when exactly the bodyguards had started using brigands as a recruitment test.

The band numbered over thirty.

They were well known in the area—the White Hood Brigands.

"We are the White Ho—"

Bell was a shepherd, and shepherds did not tolerate intruders in their pastures.

He responded accordingly.

Before the man could even finish his words, Bell struck him on the head with his sheathed sword.

It was a clean, precise blow to the crown of his skull, combined with surprisingly nimble footwork.

Thud!

"Urgh!"

Among the thirty bandits, five carried crossbows, and others were skilled at throwing knives, but the difference in skill was simply too vast.

Even Rophod alone could have handled them, though he might have struggled a bit.

Bell, however, was beyond Rophod in skill. That had been the case ever since the night he first met Enkrid and forced him to repeat this life.

‘No, he’s even better now.’

Enkrid evaluated Bell’s ability. Since awakening his foresight, his perspective had broadened, sharpening his discernment.

‘He’s improved.’

And not just moderately—significantly. Lua Gharne would have had something to say if she had seen it.

Bell didn’t hesitate in his attacks. Even though he used the sheathed sword, few of his targets remained standing after being hit.

At the very least, they were left with broken bones.

‘Lua Gharne would find this interesting.’

Before leaving, Enkrid had tried to meet her, but he had heard that she had departed with the queen.

It was probably due to Frokk’s covenant. Still, it was a little disappointing not to see her face one last time.

"Is that enough?"

Bell asked, his youthful face incongruous with the sheer brutality of his work.

Rem nodded.

"Pass."

"...I wasn’t asking for your approval in the first place."

Bell grumbled, but he looked pleased.

And why wouldn’t he be? Among shepherds, he had always been scolded for practicing swordsmanship alone.

But here, people watched him, acknowledged him.

And not just anyone—warriors of remarkable skill.

"First, we need to deal with things like this. Any good ideas?"

Crang asked as he watched the half-dead and half-fleeing bandits. He was struggling with the kingdom’s security issues. Though he spoke in broad terms, Enkrid understood exactly what he meant and responded.

"Do you think asking me will give you an answer?"

Naurillia’s internal security had many gaps, partly due to Count Molsen but also for several other reasons.

That was why groups like the Black Blade Bandits and others kept emerging.

Some of them weren’t even real bandits—they were spies sent from foreign nations, disguising themselves as outlaws.

And bandits weren’t the only problem.

There were cultists, monstrous beasts, and magical creatures.

Crang had plenty of headaches to deal with. But even so, he smiled.

This was the moment he had wanted, the thing he had fought for.

So what else could he do but smile?

And just like that, the three-day sendoff came to an end.

The reason the king himself had come wasn’t because Enkrid was a hero who had saved the country.

Crang had come because he was a friend.

"See you again."

"Yeah."

With those simple farewells, they parted ways.

The thought that Crang's escort seemed too small crossed Enkrid’s mind again, but of course, those weren’t the only guards.

Jaxon had already told him on the first {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} day that a large detachment was trailing them from behind.

That meant a whole squad of the king’s guards had been following them all along.

As they walked along the main road, signs of an encampment became visible. It was evidence that Kraiss had moved his troops.

That wasn’t all. As they neared the border guard, they came across a massive outpost right in the middle of the highway.

It was a fortification designed for both offense and defense, with watchtowers allowing archers to fire in all directions, stone walls, and an iron-reinforced gate.

And it wasn’t small, either.

At minimum, it could house over twenty soldiers.

It wasn’t just some hastily built wooden hut—it was a proper brick structure, clearly the work of someone skilled in construction.

"What is this?"

"Haha, after you left, King Eyeball went ahead and got some things done."

It was Audin who answered.

Kraiss?

As Enkrid approached the outpost, an archer on watch blew a short whistle.

A group of soldiers emerged from the front of the stronghold.

"Mad Platoon Commander?"

It was Bell.

The very soldier whose life Enkrid had saved during the first iteration of this day, now promoted to squad leader.

"Are you returning?"

"Yeah."

Seeing the group trailing behind Enkrid, Bell nodded.

"Independent Combat Company, returning!"

At his shout, the soldiers in the watchtower lowered their bows, straightened their posture, and rested their hands on the shortswords at their waists before bowing. It was a military salute.

"Yeah."

Enkrid passed by three more such outposts after that.

‘The spacing...’

It was consistent.

And the benefits?

Control over local bandits and monsters.

But was that all?

No.

The Border Guard had been attacked so frequently that raids had become routine.

Fires had been set up on the rooftops of these watchtowers, allowing signal flares to be lit at any moment.

The smoke would rise above the roofline, making it an effective communication system so long as it didn’t rain.

And having signal flares meant that these outposts functioned as the front-line scouting force.

Rather than patrolling on foot, they established permanent outposts to prevent bandits, monstrous beasts, and magical creatures from even setting foot in certain areas.

Over time, even monsters and beasts would learn to avoid this place.

Once they recognized it as a dangerous zone, they wouldn’t dare approach.

‘And why did the soldiers accept this?’

The first reason was higher, more stable pay.

The second was that large-scale extermination campaigns had already been conducted to minimize risks, making the work less dangerous than before.

Normally, setting up these outposts would have been a bureaucratic nightmare.

‘But the Border Guard has been raking in gold like crazy.’

It was also the perfect time for construction.

There were no more monsters or bandits left to interfere.

Thanks to the countless attacks on the Border Guard, there weren’t any new enemies daring to challenge them—for now.

Kraiss had taken full advantage of that.

The high wages were just a secondary benefit.

The real key was seizing the right moment.

‘So there was an answer after all.’

Enkrid recalled Crang’s question.

How to deal with the bandits and monsters.

A large-scale extermination campaign would be necessary, of course.

‘And now that most of Count Molsen’s soldiers have been absorbed into the Royal Army...’

They could use this as training, both to reinforce discipline and to engage monsters in combat.

And while they were at it, they could sweep up the remaining bandit gangs.

By granting them royal pardons for their past rebellion in exchange for service, the king would gain both loyalty and praise.

Killing two birds with one stone.

As Enkrid walked past the outpost, he received their salutes.

At the last outpost, a signal flare was lit.

The rising smoke announced Enkrid’s return.

"King Eyeball, you really built all this?"

Even Rem was somewhat impressed.

He remembered how Kraiss had once asked about his tribe’s communication methods.

Back then, Rem had told him about using heated stones.

And now, Kraiss had implemented beacon towers.

Would anyone else have thought of this?

Perhaps.

But ideas were meaningless unless put into action.

Kraiss was someone who made things happen.

"You’re back?"

At the gates of the Border Guard fortress, Kraiss waved his hand.

And beside him—

"You’re late, fiancé."

The Fairy Company Commander, who had charged into battle like a whirlwind only to vanish again, was there.

"You’re late."

Even Frokk Lua Gharne was there.

Enkrid had heard she had left with the queen—so why was she here?

Finally, the battalion commander and lord of the fortress stepped forward.

As he reached Enkrid, he dropped to one knee and spoke.

"We greet the general."

Enkrid blinked.

"What general?"

Even Rem asked.

Ragna also turned to look at Enkrid.

Audin seemed just as puzzled.

Only Jaxon remained expressionless, lost in thought.

"Hm? You haven't heard?"

The battalion commander, who used to speak so casually, now addressed Enkrid with formal respect.

Enkrid nodded.

It was Crang’s doing.

He had awarded a medal, sure—but was he really going to send Enkrid off without proper compensation?

The hero who saved the kingdom? His only true friend?

Crang wouldn’t do that.

He had sent a royal decree ahead of Enkrid’s arrival.

"From Count Molsen’s territory to the Border Guard, Martai, and a total of five cities and their surrounding lands, these territories shall be directly governed by the crown.

And the general appointed to rule over this land shall be Enkrid."

Everyone was stunned speechless.

Only Kraiss understood immediately.

Crang had handed over all this land to Enkrid without giving him an official noble title or even land that could generate wealth.

Because if he had simply offered it, Enkrid would have refused.

So instead, he had just thrown it into his hands.