A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

Rem looked at the sleeping man's face and thought,

"One swing of the axe would do it."

Once you reach the level of a knight, your body becomes much tougher than before.

Your skin gets thicker, your bones harder, and even your blood circulates so quickly that your reflexes are far beyond what any normal person could imagine.

That's why people call those who become knights superhuman.

Still, it's not like you could survive having your head cut off or anything like that.

In short, if you're asleep, you're just as vulnerable to a sneak attack as anyone else—especially if you're half-unconscious like this man was now.

Rem looked away from Ragna, who was sleeping as if dead.

There were times he genuinely wanted to kill him.

But, "Not like this."

Rem was a man of the Western Region, a Hero.

He was also Ayul's partner and father to a child.

If he beat an opponent in a fair fight, that would be one thing—but to bring an axe to the neck of someone fast asleep?

Even if he lived ten lives, Rem would never stoop to that.

He had entered the Demonic Domain and smashed down and burned a whole section of the castle wall.

Claiming he hadn't gotten tired in the process would've been a lie.

Rem himself had slain three giant Beast birds, then got tossed out to one side of the Demonic Domain and had a pretty rough time of it.

The Demonic Domain certainly lived up to its reputation.

Horned gorilla Beasts moved more stealthily than owls, trying to ambush him from behind, and Ghouls with sharpened jaws lunged, desperate to feed on blood.

He ran into a number of cultists—some looked completely out of their minds, while others just had that appearance.

There were even beings who seemed half-human, half-monster, with strange brands pressed into their foreheads, mystical energy seeping from every inch of their bodies.

"Those bastards, really…"

He just couldn't bring himself to walk past them and do nothing, so he acted.

Beating down, killing, and tearing through several of them, he summoned the wolf's spirit to help him find his way.

Thanks to that spirit, his spatial awareness improved drastically, and he used his heightened sense of smell to follow traces of his allies.

But then, a giant spider Monster with eight arms appeared, constantly shooting webs.

At a distance, these webs shot out like arrows from holes that looked disturbingly like anuses, and there weren't just one or two of them—there were easily over a hundred.

He managed to kill about half.

With so many, throwing his hand axe wasn't an option—there were too many targets.

He had to fight them hand-to-hand, and they were tricky opponents, making good use of terrain by hiding behind trees and other obstacles.

It wasn't exactly life-threatening, but it wasn't possible to get through it all without burning up stamina and mystical energy.

If you could call it luck, after he killed half, the rest ran off.

After rejoining his allies, he threw his hand axe one last time to save Lazybones, and then returned to the village.

There, he ate, slept, rested, and spent his time stretching, intensifying, and relaxing every muscle in his body.

But even then, he felt aches and stiffness all over.

"Still not back to normal."

Nothing was broken, but the body he'd pushed past its limits was strangely out of balance.

Mystical energy was always a burden on the body, especially when pushed beyond its needs.

Well, he wasn't the only one feeling this way.

The fairy who never stopped talking about her engagement looked so pale she seemed half-dead, and even Luagarne lost an arm in battle.

Supposedly, it was bitten off by a skeletal Human-faced Dog.

Of everyone, the one in the worst shape was Lazybones, who was collapsed in the back.

He'd overexerted himself using Will in the fight and ended up nearly comatose.

He only woke up once, devoured a pile of food, fell right back asleep, and now, even if a Human-faced Dog dragged him off, he probably wouldn't stir.

"Yaaawn."

Rem, who gave a pointless yawn, was planning to indulge in a bit more laziness himself.

Outside the window, he saw two idiots lost in thought.

Pathetic Fel and pathetic Ropord would likely stay out there until evening before coming in.

Some villagers glanced at them as they passed by.

But now, more and more people looked at them not with fear, but with a growing sense of awe.

The village was quiet and peaceful.

'Well, we did clear out all the Monsters in the area.'

Roman could be seen off to the side, rolling around.

"You can still keep going, brother. I've got some strength left."

The Half-blood Giant Teresa was helping him with his training, while Audin, looking like a Demon, grinned with satisfaction beside them.

'If you torment someone and grin like that, you really do look like a demon.'

Roman, who had several rocks stacked on his shoulders, gritted his teeth before finally opening his mouth.

"I can't do this anymore."

"Yes, you can. And please don't say that, brother. If you let out your breath, you'll lose tension in your abs."

Audin, the demon, brushed off his protest without a care.

What a fun little game they're playing.

Rem turned his gaze from the window and looked back into the room.

As he began to head toward the bed, he lifted his right foot—then stopped, reaching instinctively for the concealed weapon he always wore at his waist.

His axe sensed an ominous, murderous presence and responded immediately.

'When did they get here?'

A brief question surfaced in his mind, but he had no time to look for an answer.

Creak.

The only door swung open, and from beyond it, darkness itself seemed to creep in—not metaphorically, but literally, as black smoke pooled and spread across the floor.

It was midday and the sky was perfectly clear with not a cloud in sight.

Yet, as soon as the door opened, the world seemed to plunge into night, and a crushing pressure filled the room as if he'd been dropped into the heart of a Demonic Domain.

"If you're a guest, shouldn't you at least knock first?"

Rem spoke, drawing his hand axe and hurling it.

As he moved, his arm flashed so quickly it left not even a blur in the air

With a loud pop, his thrown hand axe cut through the air in a perfect arc.

He moved so quickly that the axe became a spinning disc before he even finished his sentence, and it looked as if it would shatter the opponent's head.

The master of the black smoke caught the spinning axe by twisting the object in his left arm from below upward.

Strapped tightly to that left arm was a shield—broad at the top and tapering to a point at the bottom, commonly known as a Kite Shield.

Bang!

Thudududududududu!

Rem's hand axe, accompanied by a tremendous crash, ricocheted upward at an angle and soared into the distance.

It left a long mark across the shield before disappearing as if it had turned into a star in the sky.

A large hole had also opened near the top of the doorway.

'That was a weapon I rather liked.'

Rem thought as he stared ahead, realizing it would be hard to recover the axe that had flown so far away.

Except for the area around the left arm and shield, the black smoke still covered the floor in thick swaths.

As the smoke slowly dispersed, a helmet with the visor pulled down tight came into view, though nothing could be seen inside the visor.

Clatter.

The figure was armored from head to toe.

With no sign of life in its movement, it seemed almost like a suit of armor made to move on its own.

From the fingertips to every joint, the craftsmanship of its creator was evident.

Its sword remained sheathed, the shield held forward defensively.

Without a word, it simply raised its right hand and lifted the visor.

Thunk.

With the sound of metal parts meeting, a face appeared inside, one Rem hadn't expected to see.

"Whew, that's better. It was getting stuffy in there. Since you're not even wearing a helmet, I'll at least lift my visor. I can't take the helmet off, though. It feels like it's just part of my body now. Still, I'll let you decide. Should I fight with the visor down? Or leave it up?"

Narrowing his eyes, Rem studied his opponent.

Who is this guy now?

Fel and Ropord, who had been visible outside just moments ago, were nowhere to be seen.

The windows were now blocked by a rough, uneven wall.

Inside the house, only two people remained: himself and Lazybones.

In other words, something was seriously off here.

Through the gap in the helmet, messy blond hair spilled out—a man's.

He had a pretty good-looking face.

Maybe not on Enkrid's level, but the kind of face people would call handsome wherever he went.

"Do as you please."

Rem replied in an indifferent tone.

If his questions couldn't be answered, he'd just do what he could.

"Alright, I'll leave it up, then."

A smile spread across the man's face.

His lips curled upward with confident ease.

Thunk.

He lowered his shield, which looked big enough to cover half his body, and jabbed its pointed end into the floor.

The plaster stone cracked under the impact.

That made it clear that the shield wasn't of ordinary weight.

With that posture, he exaggerated a motion as if craning his neck to look behind Rem—though there was no need, as his line of sight was perfectly fine without it.

Clearly, this guy had a flair for the dramatic.

The blond man grinned as he spoke, his tone friendly and casual.

"I only need to kill one guy, you know? So if you just step aside and leave the one behind you, I'll let you go. What do you say?"

Rem's body wasn't in normal condition.

And the man standing before him looked more dangerous than any monster he'd faced in the Demonic Domain.

'What about that Lord or Apostle or whatever that guy was?'

He dealt the final blow, but he hadn't seen the whole process, so he couldn't be sure.

Whatever the case, his condition was terrible, and he couldn't easily judge his opponent's skill.

On the surface, Rem looked like a madman who had thrown away all self-control and was drunk on fighting, but in truth, he was someone who could calmly assess a situation.

If not, he would never have chosen to become a noble-killer.

Back then, even killing the noble and getting a bounty on my head was the calculated result of thinking things through.

The conclusion now is the same: fighting here puts me at a serious disadvantage for several reasons.

'The house is cramped, and there's baggage at my back.'

The confidence radiating from the armored guy added to the pressure.

He's even lifted his visor to fight—there's no way this guy is a pushover.

But should I just hand over my subordinate to save my own skin?

Leave my feeble, dragging subordinate behind just so I can get away?

That kind of nonsense was never an option.

"What a damn Lazy bastard. Sleeps like he's paid to do it."

Rem muttered, then raised his axe, his go-to weapon, holding it upright in front of his face.

He then spoke up, his voice louder.

"Hey, do you have any idea who I am?"

The man answered with that same smiling face.

"Not a clue."

Rem grinned back and replied,

"Clean out your earhole and listen carefully. I'm Rem, the Vice Captain of the Madmen Knights."

Behind him, Ragna twitched in his sleep.

He had felt drained after the battle with the Apostle of Red Foot, relying on Will that was lacking, and pushed himself through the Sunrise.

As a result, he had devoted himself to resting.

It might have looked like he was sleeping soundly, but in reality, this was what was happening.

He could force himself awake, but fighting properly was out of the question.

So, rest it was.

Well, putting everything on the line and then falling asleep like that, as if there wasn't a single worry in the world—Ragna trusted Enkrid enough to act that way.

Maybe Rem didn't trust him, but Ragna did.

Rem's lips curled up, despite being the one Ragna distrusted.

"There's no way a Vice Captain would just hand over his subordinate quietly. Wraith."

Rem was a hero and shaman from the Western Region.

He caught a faint, sour smell from his opponent.

The owner of that armor was not human.

At least, that was Rem's conclusion.

"Vice Captain? Madmen?"

Whatever this Wraith—or whatever it was—didn't know about the Madmen Knights.

Maintaining his smiling face, he tilted his head and picked up his shield from where he'd planted it on the floor, then drew his sword.

Srrrrng.

The blade slid out slowly, the silver gleam blending eerily with the surrounding darkness.

It didn't feel like the blade was pushing things away, but rather like it was blending in.

At least, that's how it appeared from Rem's perspective.

The blade was shorter and thicker compared to a typical longsword.

Its shape more closely resembled the gladius Enkrid used before, though the blade was straighter than his.

It was well-suited for thrusting, but it could just as easily double as a makeshift shield or be wielded flat as a bludgeon.

"So either way, the two of you are choosing death, is that it?"

The man asked.

"No, I'm choosing to kill you."

Rem answered without even pausing to breathe.

"Ah, now that, I understand."

The blond man raised his shield, taking control of the cramped space.

The force he exuded whipped through the room like a wild storm.

His pressure took on a tangible form.

Because this man's presence was mixed with smoke, that smoke itself started to take shape, revealing the intense power within him.

It felt like a solid mass of iron—an unbreakable, uncuttable metallic cube—so massive it filled the entire Village Hall.

A box-shaped object composed of smoke pressed down with immense pressure.

Rem tightened his grip on his axe.

He had cargo behind him, and there was little space to move.

There was no advantage here, only disadvantages stacked up against him.

Then reduce the disadvantages, and turn them into advantages.

He did just that.

Just as Rem had influenced Enkrid, so too did the Madmen Knights influence each other.

Rem had always possessed an exceptional sense for tactics.

He incorporated elements of Enkrid-style Orthodox Swordsmanship, itself derived from the Luagarne-style Tactical Sword, into his own fighting style.

"Someone's behind you!"

He shouted out loudly, as if there really was someone coming up behind his opponent.

"…You think I'd fall for that?"

The curly-haired blond Wraith let out a deflated snort and shook his head.

Rem's intent wasn't truly to trick his opponent—he only wanted to throw him off with absurdity.

In that brief instant, Rem's axe shot up through the air.

Bang!

The tossed axe smashed through the ceiling of the hall.

Debris from the roof came crashing down to the floor—the thick, heavy, and blackened wooden beams that once braced the roof, stone chunks set into place with plaster, and even dust so old and dense it had turned to stone.

Everything rained down like hail.

Because the axe had split the very center of the roof, the entire ceiling collapsed.

Rem hoisted Ragna onto his back and leapt through the breaking hail of debris.

"Well, would you look at that"

The man walked slowly as he watched Rem move swiftly.

There was nowhere to run anyway.