Eternally Regressing Knight
Chapter 102 - 102 - When Luck Does Not Follow (4)
Chapter 102 - When Luck Does Not Follow (4)
"What was more enjoyable for you?"
Dying skewered like a kebab on an arrow?
Being strangled by a mage's vines and pierced by its thorns?
Or having your entire body torn apart by a Lycanthrope?
The boatman appeared and spoke with a laugh.
A laugh that could only be perceived because he allowed it.
It was strangely fascinating.
How should one describe it?
It felt as though someone had simply told him, "The boatman is laughing."
Enkrid knew the boatman was laughing, but he didn't actually see the man's face laughing, nor did he hear a sound.
All he had was the awareness that the boatman was laughing.
Having been asked a question, Enkrid answered.
Toward the black river, the small boat, and the boatman.
He couldn't tell whether the answer was directed at the boatman, the boat, or the black river.
Still, he spoke.
"Arrows were the best option."
Compared to being torn apart by a pack of Lycanthropes or ensnared by a mage's vines, that seemed better.
"...Go mad. Lose yourself in madness to entertain me."
Did it just seem like the boatman paused for a moment?
Or was it an illusion?
Enkrid wasn't mad.
Not at all.
He had simply answered because there was no need to hesitate.
"I was just answering logically."
"Crazy bastard."
The boatman started with a laugh, then became angry.
Though, of course, even that felt as though someone was narrating it.
He wasn't certain the boatman was actually angry—he just sensed irritation.
And that was the end of it.
Darkness painted over the black river.
When Enkrid closed his eyes and reopened them—
It was still the pre-dawn hours.
The same day as before.
Enkrid rose lightly.
Neither his body nor mind felt heavy.
Though the pain of being bitten and disemboweled by the Lycanthropes still lingered.
"Hah."
He decided to forget it with a single sigh.
Even if he couldn't truly forget, moving his body and swinging his sword would make things bearable.
Enkrid was calm—both in his actions and his heart.
'Relax your shoulders.'
At a time when he would typically be racking his brain for ways to survive or escape the day,
Enkrid was as serene as a still lake.
Hadn't he recently come to a realization?
'Is desperation the only answer?'
It wasn't.
Walking toward tomorrow hadn't changed, but running at full speed wasn't always the fastest way forward.
Nor was it always necessary to rush to the finish.
'There are three paths.'
As he moved his body as usual, he began organizing his thoughts.
It all started with the ghouls.
'Those things, too...'
Something was off.
They seemed to be under someone's command or to have experienced such control before.
'There must be a mage involved.'
That mage was on a different level compared to the one he had faced before.
'The Thorned Vine Mage, Retsha.'
The name he'd heard remained vivid in his mind.
Could he kill her?
There was no need to ask that question.
He had to.
Next, his thoughts turned to the pack of Lycanthropes, retracing his experience in reverse.
'A mage's scheme, for sure.'
It was a certainty.
If they scaled the walls, they'd face the mage.
If they headed for the narrow passage, a unit would block them from both ends.
The front was guarded by elite soldiers armed with broad shields and spears, while archers formed a rear blockade.
A perfect setup.
'They couldn't have been this prepared without prior knowledge.'
He wasn't sure how, but the enemy had already figured out their movements.
So, was there a spy?
If there had been one, signs would've surfaced during the Lycanthrope attack.
Perhaps the information had leaked through other means.
It was a situation the boatman would find amusing.
All three paths were blocked by walls.
And not walls one could overcome through simple training.
'Unlucky, perhaps.'
How could every situation seem so fatal?
Still.
Did misfortune change anything?
No.
Enkrid remained the same.
Unshaken.
Clink.
He tightened the strap on his sword hilt.
It was a mark of beginning anew.
Enkrid mentally divided the morning into segments.
And moved accordingly.
After practicing the Isolation Technique, he trained his swordsmanship.
Then, he resumed practicing Hide Knife.
"Would you spar with me?"
He asked Finn, training in Valaf martial arts.
"Who's after you? You seem more urgent than usual today."
Torres said as he prepared his gear. How many knives did he have hidden on his body?
Enkrid watched as Torres strapped on a belt holding eight knives and answered him.
"Just doing my best every day."
"You'll burn out that way."
He wasn't fragile enough to burn out from just this.
"Shall we head out, then?"
Finn spoke as Enkrid's early-morning training concluded.
Sweat-soaked, he couldn't leave without changing clothes, so he quickly switched outfits and headed out.
On the way, Finn mentioned how Aspen scouts were rarely spotted these days.
He had heard that before.
As they pushed through the underbrush, Finn commented on the edible-looking berries.
"Those are poisonous."
"Noted."
Enkrid responded immediately.
"You're something else."
"What do you mean?"
Finn, cutting through shrubs with her dagger, joined in.
"You act like you know things. Like you've been here before."
Was that a woman's intuition, or a ranger's instinct?
"It is my first time."
"Talk casually."
"Alright."
Were they about to go into another round of playful chatter?
That's what had happened on the first iteration of today.
Fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately—Finn didn't bring it up this time.
Instead, she looked at Enkrid with an odd expression.
Even though the day repeated, not everything played out the same.
Some small things did change.
This was the entrance to the tunnel they had arrived at.
"How deep is it?" Enkrid asked just before entering.
"Hmm? If we walk briskly, it won't take an hour."
"I see."
"Why do you ask?"
"Just curious."
"Are you scared of the dark? Don't worry, I'll hold your hand."
"That's not it."
Finn chuckled and then spoke up.
"Rangers always go first."
The path sloped down.
The same thing as before happened.
Enkrid didn't give any warnings or special preparations to the others.
Instead, he remembered everything that happened.
"What should we do if we get surrounded?"
He had never asked any of his squad members this kind of question before, meaning he hadn't learned anything about it.
But from past experiences, he did know one thing.
That one must avoid such situations at all costs.
If he could avoid it, that was the right course.
But if it couldn't be avoided, what should he do?
That was something to think about from now on.
Enkrid was in the process of finding an answer.
"Hurry up!"
The enemy appeared.
It was a squad armed with spears and shields.
There were at least two squads' worth of soldiers.
Several torches lit up the area ahead.
Creeeak.
As if waiting, a group of enemy soldiers with shortbows blocked the rear.
'Seems like there are about twenty of them.'
Enkrid turned his gaze to the front again and looked at the commander, who appeared to be the leader.
He was peeking out between shields, wearing an iron helmet that covered his forehead, leaving only his eyes visible.
Though faint, there was a thrill of excitement in his eyes.
It was as if he welcomed this situation.
"You little wildcat."
The commander spoke.
"Dammit."
Finn turned her head back and forth, then drew a dagger, holding it in reverse while lowering her stance.
Her left hand shielded her face diagonally, while her right hand moved behind her, hiding the knife from the enemy's sight.
It looked as if she were hiding her claws like a wildcat.
Torres quietly moved alongside the shadows cast by the torches.
Some of the soldiers with shortbows followed Torres with their eyes.
'Sharp eyes.'
That was a well-trained soldier.
As expected.
If they fell into a trap, it would be over.
It was the kind of trap where, if they weren't knights, there was no way out.
Finn and Torres were elite soldiers.
If this weren't a tunnel.
If they weren't surrounded on all sides.
'Then it might be possible.'
But no, they could resist, but they would die.
The commander was about to shout something when.
"Wait."
Enkrid stepped forward, showing his left palm.
He hadn't drawn his sword, signaling that he wasn't intending to fight.
"It doesn't seem like this person would be open to conversation."
Torres muttered.
Finn still looked ahead with a fierce glare.
"What's going on?"
The commander, confident in his capture, asked.
Enkrid needed to shorten the distance with the enemy.
As Torres said, they weren't people with whom conversation would work.
He just needed a moment of space.
Before the fight broke out, there was something he needed to confirm.
Step by step.
With both hands raised, signaling he had no intent to fight, Enkrid's gaze lingered on the enemy's armor and attire, clearly visible in the torchlight.
'Dust.'
It had piled up quite a bit on their gear.
It had been just over an hour of walking.
The dust on the enemy soldiers' bodies didn't seem like it had accumulated within today.
'They weren't just waiting for today.'
So this was a question to confirm something.
"How many days have you been waiting?"
"...What?"
There was surprise mixed into the commander's voice, as if Enkrid had hit the mark.
That was confirmation.
'They hadn't waited with certainty.'
What was it that had kept them here waiting?
It was curious now.
Though, at this moment, curiosity didn't matter.
The results did.
What mattered was that these soldiers had been waiting here for days.
"You're good at hiding your presence."
Enkrid said again.
Every word was meant to probe.
The commander couldn't have known that.
"You little... what are you? Are you a magician too?"
Had a magician been involved here?
What was that Retsha woman with the rose vines doing?
"Retsha, huh."
Enkrid took a step further.
"...Shit, I don't know what you're talking about, but die."
That was the end of the conversation.
The enemy soldiers charged, and arrows and spears aimed at Enkrid, Finn, and Torres.
The commander gestured to his soldiers and retreated.
Finn, wanting to kill that commander, couldn't break through the line of enemy soldiers armed with shields and spears.
Her skills were difficult to use in such a place.
That's why she appeared to have only the strength of an average soldier.
Torres was different.
He moved in a way that threw off the enemy's expectations, hitting the wall and then flicking his hands in the air.
Four throwing knives shot out from his hands.
Even Enkrid couldn't see where they were going.
It was Torres's hidden move.
But it wasn't enough.
The archers and those blocking the front were all covered in thick leather shields.
'If you're going to target something, aim for their toes.'
That was as far as it went.
Ignoring the idea of overcoming the wall, Enkrid decided to put his plan into action.
Facing off against well-trained elite soldiers.
And even more elite soldiers in groups.
This was a completely new experience for Enkrid.
There had never been a time when a group of soldiers would target him, given they had nowhere near the same skill.
They had no such skill.
He had gotten better with his sword over time.
He'd killed the pervert and defeated the crazy Mitch Hurrier.
Assassins had targeted him.
But this was really the first time.
Fighting against a group, a squad, an army of enemies.
In a battlefield, he could use his allies to his advantage, but here there was no such opportunity.
'Then.'
Couldn't this be an opportunity to improve his skills?
Thinking that, he couldn't help but mutter.
"This is fun."
The spear soldier, who had a terrified look, thrust his spear just before dying, seeing Enkrid laughing despite blood pouring from his mouth.
Of course, Enkrid didn't care about that.
He was only thinking about testing out various things.
'It's not enough with just focus and the sense of the blade.'
If his vision narrowed against a number of enemies, there was no answer.
What if he used a heavy sword like when he fought the ghouls, or the wolf beasts, or the man-faced dogs, to slash and crush them?
'No.'
These weren't beasts; they were soldiers who knew tactics and strategies.
They were thinking and planning.
Just like usual.
The only difference was that his shoulders were a little less tense than before.
So, after spending todays trying to enter through the tunnel and failing, he would meet the magician on the castle walls.
He'd been repeatedly caught by Retsha's vines, and when that got blocked, he danced with the werewolves under the moonlight.
Of course, that dance always ended in death.
Enkrid had made up his mind, so he didn't feel any impatience.
He would give his best in every moment.
It didn't mean he was going to waste the day just because his shoulders were relaxed.
After forty-two todays, he'd mastered the Hide knife.
"How is this possible?"
Naturally, Torres looked at him with a startled expression.
To him, it seemed like Enkrid had just imitated his secret move in a day.
"Just lucky."
It wasn't a great excuse, but Torres had no argument.
"In just a day?"
He muttered, still in disbelief.
The Hide knife hadn't become more skilled just because Torres saw it.
But Enkrid went past seventy days.
He wouldn't show off the Hide knife again in front of Torres.
Now, it was enough to keep repeating it on his own.
Every day, he mastered Valaf-style martial arts.
He honed his skills through sparring with Finn, who had learned the Eil Karaz-style martial arts.
And after repeating today over and over, Enkrid realized he no longer needed to keep practicing the HIde knife, the Valaf martial arts, fighting the magician on the castle walls, climbing the walls to build grip strength, or training his swordsmanship by fighting the werewolves.
'All of it.'
He no longer felt the need to repeat it.
Now, what comes next?
It was time to move on to tomorrow.

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