A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

The Corrupted Fairy possessed the strength of a knight, and this was the Demonic Domain.

If fairies drew power from the spirit of the forest, then for her, the air of the Demonic Domain was like spirit energy.

This place, this land, was a favorable battlefield and environment for her.

The corrupted fairy, who had unleashed black lightning, was confident she could easily cut down several of them on her own.

Sure, they had sliced through the castle wall just moments ago and killed a witch, but fighting people was a different matter entirely.

Besides, her specialty was one-on-one combat.

Earlier, the corrupted fairy had been surprised, but now she exuded a calm intensity founded on that confidence.

She stayed unshaken, even as she grew angry at the insults tossed her way.

All of this hinted at the extent of her strength.

Anyone who'd wielded a sword or been in their share of fights would recognize these clues.

"I'll handle this alone. This is my duty."

Yet Shinar insisted to everyone that she would take her on by herself.

Ragna hadn't been interested from the start, and Audin and Teresa both knew how to respect another's wishes.

Enkrid glanced at Shinar, then turned his eyes to the Blue-Eyed Witch.

Is she hiding some kind of trump card?

He thought she probably did.

Watching how these people operated only made it seem more likely.

The Apostle won't just sit back and do nothing either.

The Corrupted Fairy glanced past the low-ranked members of their clan standing before her and took in the others holding their ground in the distance.

There were plenty of opponents to deal with.

Back there, some were fighting the modified monsters, and among them was a bear beastman who ripped apart the Crystal Armor Golem with his bare hands, smashing even the grotesque lump of flesh that had burst out from within.

"The Lord welcomes you all!"

The beastman's shout was tinged with madness.

Elsewhere, a man was strolling unhurriedly across the battlefield, heading straight for the Apostle.

And the others—all of them fought with impressive skill.

'Fighting three or more at once would be too much.'

So what should she do?

Gather magic from afar and shoot arrows, picking them off one by one.

Besides her one-on-one prowess, speed was also one of her strengths.

In an instant, the Corrupted Fairy determined the order in which she'd face them.

'One arrow for the one approaching the Apostle, two for the bear beastman, then look for an opening to kill the mixed-blood mongrel with the shield, and target the two dealing with the monsters from behind.'

Meanwhile, the remaining witch would buy her some time.

It was a strategy quickly devised for a sure victory.

She was clever, and in a way, it was a reasonable plan.

Still, just because the plan sounded good didn't mean it would work as intended.

"You're planning something."

Shinar spoke, having noticed her eyeballs darting about.

Even though she'd just been insulted, the Corrupted Fairy calmly assessed the situation—that much proved she wasn't just some simple fool.

Still, Shinar found it irritating that she didn't even bother to look her way.

She realized that, to her, she was nothing more than a weed that would die on its own and didn't even need to be picked.

"Oh right, there's the lowly clan member too."

At the Corrupted Fairy's words, Shinar's focus returned to her.

Shinar's instincts had been correct.

The Corrupted Fairy didn't see Shinar, who simply spat out curses as any real threat.

It was true that the Corrupted Fairies and fairies had once split from the same branch long ago and were now considered separate races, but they still shared many similarities.

Their roots were, after all, fairy in origin.

In other words, she knew perfectly well how pitiful a fairy could be without the protection of their vital energy. 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

She figured she could just slit her throat as she passed by and move on to the next target.

Maybe even tear open that mouth of hers and make it bigger—it wouldn't be a bad idea, considering how sharp her tongue was.

Catching the intent behind her demeanor, Shinar's lips curled into a faint smile.

A delicate grin appeared on his face.

Without another word, the Corrupted Spirit closed the distance and swung her sword at her.

Her steps were simple and her movements straightforward.

Yet her speed and unpredictability weren't much different from what Jaxen had shown earlier.

There was no sound of her feet pounding the ground, no whoosh of her sword slicing through the air.

Everything about her advance, every motion as she swung directly at Shinar, felt perfectly natural.

Just as you can't stop the wind with your hands, it seemed just as impossible to block the Corrupted Fairy's blade that way.

As the blade fell, the face of the fairy—blessed with an otherworldly beauty—appeared to split in two.

There was no sound.

Only a fading afterimage lingered.

Blending instantly into their surroundings and moving unseen is a signature skill of fairies.

Although right now, it was the Corrupted Fairy who'd shown it.

The fairy's severed head blurred and vanished.

It was Shinar, leaping to the side, leaving a faint afterimage behind.

Still wearing that faint smile, she moved her Leaf blade.

Known as the Sword of the Four Seasons, the blade passes through spring, summer, and autumn before finally reaching winter.

The young leaf—symbol of spring on the blade—transforms into Needle, the sharp thorn that represents winter.

All of this is possible because the sword's form is shaped by the fairy's vital spirit.

Now, in Shinar's hand, the leafy blade had already changed, becoming pointed and narrow.

It was in the shape of Needle—a slender, elongated blade.

That Needle shot straight out.

The Corrupted Fairy raised her mottled black and dark-gray sword just in time to block it.

Thud—

With a faint noise, Shinar came to a halt, arm extended from the strike.

The Corrupted Fairy, holding her sword horizontally in defense, partially covered her mouth with the blade as she stared at Shinar.

A deep and burning desire flashed in her pitch-black eyes.

It was a murderous intent—a burning desire to tear and slash flesh.

As the corrupted energy welled up in her eyes, spilling out in pure black radiance, a green light flickered in Shinar's eyes too, and soon that same emerald glow began to emanate from Needle, the blade she held.

Before long, the unpleasant, metallic stench of the Demonic Domain was pierced by a fresh and lively scent of grass spreading through the air.

"..."

The Corrupted Fairy's eyes, visible above the blade, widened.

Once again, clear astonishment spread across her face.

Shinar, still wearing the faint smile at the corner of her lips, recited quietly,

"Did you really think I came here without any preparation? My name is Shinar Kiraheis. On behalf of all the children of flowers and trees, I will claim the life of one who betrayed my kin long ago."

With their swords pressed together, Shinar savored the vital spirit infused in her blade.

True to what she just said, she had not come here unprepared.

She had not used it earlier simply because she couldn't afford to use it more than once.

She had brought the forest's spirit brimming within her sword.

It wasn't just an act when she'd leaned against Enkrid's shoulder, complaining of headaches from the Demonic Domain's air.

'Pretending to be sick, huh.'

Of course, anyone watching from a distance—like Enkrid—would surely have thought so.

'Faking weakness, with something like that hidden?'

Shinar had whined and complained so much that even Enkrid replayed that thought twice in his mind.

She seemed less like someone hundreds of years old and more like a twelve-year-old.

But now, seeing her take the field like this, she looked more than just fine—she seemed to brim with vitality.

Next, the swords of the two, whose skin tones were so different, finally began to harmonize.

Two colors traced lines in the air as their blades met and parted.

Thunk.

The sound was quiet, but the impact was anything but.

A sudden gust swirled between them—a strange wind, half tinged with the stench of blood, half carrying the scent of the forest, swept through the area.

From a glance, Enkrid didn't think Shinar was likely to lose.

Of course, you could never be sure of any fight until it was over, and a difference in skill didn't always guarantee victory.

Still, Enkrid trusted Shinar.

He respected her determination to face this alone, as she had insisted.

The sparks that had been crackling in the sky above gradually faded, the flickering lights dying out.

And just before the last traces of those sparks vanished completely—

"I'll chew up and devour everything!"

It was the remaining witch's cry.

The death of Red Eyes had unleashed the fury of the Blue-Eyed Witch.

She feverishly shook her hand, chasing after Jaxen's trail.

Wherever her hand moved, waves of telekinetic force gathered, and blades of wind surged forth.

Jaxen responded according to the best strategy in dealing with a spellcaster: he immediately put distance between them, moving in a curving path to stay out of the mage's line of sight.

 It meant he was running around so much that his feet were sweating.

The Spellcaster never let Jaxen out of her sight.

Instead of trying to track his movements with her eyes, she simply cast a spell around the entire area.

"You cannot stand alone with dignity among crows."

This wasn't a borrowing spell that drew on the power of other entities; it was a spell of creation.

As the magic spread, Jaxen realized there was no point in hiding his body.

Well, things might get tricky if he overreached, but—

"There's no need to push myself here," he thought.

The Witch's spell scattered a faint dust around the area, leaving a trail wherever he moved.

No matter how well he concealed his presence, there was nothing he could do about this—not when he physically existed in the world.

So Jaxen had no choice but to focus all his efforts on evasive maneuvers.

And so he did.

Whenever a skeleton in armor blocked his path, he disassembled a few bones on the spot or tripped and flung them aside, dodging spells all the while.

Just then, as a flash of light burst from the Witch's hand, Jaxen sensed danger and grabbed a skeleton soldier in armor to use as a shield, rolling to the ground.

The light that shot from the Witch's hand left only flickering afterimages in his eyes and ignited the monsters in its path.

Bang!

As a few bone fragments shattered by the light came flying toward him, Enkrid finally started to move.

He and Jaxen weren't exactly in perfect sync, but they'd spent plenty of time fighting side by side.

While Jaxen drew the Witch's attention, Enkrid stalked forward, aiming for her exposed back.

They were attacking as if surrounding her from both front and back.

"This formation isn't bad at all," Enkrid thought.

That's how it was—Jaxen in the front, himself at the rear.

It was perfect for scattering the Witch's attention between the two of them.

Everything else felt fine as well.

He wasn't really injured, and his Will had mostly finished recovering.

You couldn't exactly call it perfect, but after a life spent eating nothing but soldier's bread, Enkrid knew that the present moment was always his best state.

No, rather, he understood that you had to believe that.

After all, unless you had the luxury of fighting only after a good meal and a sound rest, it was best to always assume you were in peak condition, right now.

And this very mindset greatly aided his use of Will.

The Knight's Oath affecting Will proved, after all, that one's usual state of mind mattered.

Though his forearm still ached where steam had risen, it was little more than the feeling of being warmed up and ready.

"How dare you, how dare you, HOW DARE YOUUUUU!"

Blue Eyes screamed like she'd completely lost her mind, lashing out with hands and feet.

Then, as if flipping a switch, she began chanting a spell in a calm, collected voice.

It was a classic example of a split personality.

"Dog of Hwarin."

Showing such a clear duality only made her seem even more unhinged.

Wind rose up from beneath her feet, tossing her hair and making her billowing robe puff out dramatically She stretched out her hand, and thick, dark liquid dripped from her fingertips, pooling on the ground—out of it rose black hunting dogs.

These were magical creatures formed from soot.

He'd seen this spell often before.

Was it back in the Western Region?

It was a spell frequently used by cultists, and she wielded it skillfully.

The only difference from what he'd seen before was that the beasts now emerging were tinged with a dark red hue, making them appear even more savage and fierce.

Of course, Enkrid remained unfazed.

And with good reason.

All he needed to do was keep moving forward, swinging his sword to cut down anything in his way.

The magically-forged beasts lunged at him, baring their black fangs, but Enkrid swept his sword through them.

Elegant arcs flashed through the air as he struck and struck again.

Everything sliced by Duskforged simply dissolved into dust and vanished.

Apparently, Blue Eyes wasn't foolish enough to stick to just one trick.

She quickly launched a series of spells meant to cause physical harm.

Through the gaps in the collapsed castle wall, a boulder shot up with a rumble, soaring through the air toward him.

The problem was, compared to the black lightning arrows, the boulder moved far too slowly.

He'd already dodged and deflected those lightning arrows, so avoiding a hunk of rock was hardly a challenge.

Enkrid stepped to the side, timing it perfectly to brace his hand against the stone and give it a strong push.

The boulder, far too heavy for any beast that couldn't even fly, crashed into the flock of human-faced dogs with makeshift wings, crushing six or seven monsters as it rolled through them.

"Kaark!"

At the sight, the Witch's eyes darted wildly in every direction, agitated, but even she couldn't do anything about it.

He pressed forward, slicing through spells; whenever an opening appeared, a silent dagger would fly in.

The Witch tried every trick she could to fend off the two who closed in from both sides, but nothing could halt their relentless advance.

Then, she began to do something eerily similar to what the now-dead Red Eyes had done.

With a sickening crunch, her bones twisted, transforming her body.

Dark, frothing blood bubbled up from her swollen torso, and six more hands burst out from her back.

Those new hands rapidly formed, then reformed strange sigils, unleashing a new forbidden spell.

More precisely, it was an incantation that summoned a portion of a Demon's power