Eternally Regressing Knight
Chapter 142 - 142 - Coordination of Sense and Body
Chapter 142 - Coordination of Sense and Body
After killing the sentry, Rem turned around.
Enkrid and Ragna had no opportunity to step in.
There was no reason to wait for enemy reinforcements here.
"That was dull."
Rem spun the axe in his hands, flinging off the blood that had stained its blade.
Watching this, Enkrid turned away.
"Ragna."
At the call, Ragna trailed closely behind his squad leader.
Krais had repeatedly emphasized one thing—never leave Ragna alone.
If left unattended, he'd undoubtedly get lost and wander off.
"You, barbarian. Step in only when necessary."
Following behind his squad leader, Ragna made a remark.
To him, it seemed as though Enkrid had wanted to act, but Rem had denied him the chance.
A barbarian should know when to join in and when to step back—Ragna couldn't let that go uncorrected.
Naturally, Rem wasn't the type to obediently agree.
"Huh? What was that? You want an extra mouth on your throat? Asking me to slit your windpipe?"
"Enough."
Enkrid intervened calmly.
This was only the beginning.
They climbed back up the ridge.
Going up was naturally far more exhausting than descending.
But compared to the grueling training under the Isolation technique, this was nothing more than child's play.
The same went for Rem and Ragna.
Among the squad of madmen wielding axes and swords, none were weak enough for this to be an issue.
"Alright, Finn, let's move."
Krais urged as if reminding them that this was no time for bickering.
Finn nodded and started walking.
Once again, they began crossing the ridge.
Finn led the way, followed by Enkrid, then Ragna and Krais.
Despite keeping the rear, Krais managed to keep pace, showing his own endurance.
Watching their movements, Mac couldn't help but be impressed.
'Fast.'
There was no hesitation in their steps.
Though it looked like reckless marching without concern for stamina, none of them seemed fatigued.
Mac concluded that he only needed to focus on himself.
"Breathe slowly and deeply," he advised.
This march—no, this raid?
Assault mission?
Whatever it was, it wouldn't end quickly.
Preserving stamina was crucial.
Mac spoke, and Andrew nodded.
"I know."
A short response.
Even without explaining fully, the meaning was understood.
Mac felt a strange sense of nostalgia.
When had he grown so much?
Once this battlefield was settled and they returned to the city...
Perhaps it was time for him to find his own path.
"It'll be tough. But... I don't know. I'm looking forward to it."
Andrew spoke, his gaze fixed on his platoon leader's back.
Mac gave a small nod, too subtle for Andrew to notice.
He, too, was looking forward to it.
How far would that guy go?
Would he truly grasp the dream he spoke of?
Mac had ears and an awareness of his surroundings.
He knew that Enkrid's ambitions lay beyond what he could currently reach.
Andrew's dream was no less improbable.
He was here to support him, but whether Andrew could truly revive his family remained uncertain.
"There's no giving up."
Andrew muttered.
Gone was the naive boy who had blindly trusted his skills and boasted recklessly.
All that remained was a man who had changed while watching his leader's back.
"Giving up isn't an option."
Mac replied with pride.
It wasn't Enkrid's intention, but Andrew had changed.
And that change had influenced Mac as well.
Saving the family—of course, it was possible.
Mac walked on, planning his next steps.
Slow, deep breaths.
Minimizing unnecessary movements.
Andrew adjusted his breathing to match Mac's as they walked.
While they whispered, Enkrid listened to his squad's breathing as he moved.
"Listen and listen again."
Just as keen eyesight could be trained by observation, so too could hearing be sharpened.
By distinguishing and processing sounds faster, one could improve their auditory perception.
The sound of pebbles scattering.
The steps pressing against the ridge.
And the breathing of his squad members.
'Shallow and long.'
That was Mac and Andrew.
Both were preparing for the future.
And Rem?
Rough.
Inconsistent.
Sometimes fast, sometimes slow—impossible to predict.
It suited his personality perfectly.
Audin's breathing was so long and steady that it was hard to tell when one breath ended and another began.
Ragna's was ordinary.
Jaxen's was completely inaudible.
And himself?
If anything, his breathing was closest to Ragna's.
Normal.
There was no need to force adjustments—he moved with the steps ingrained in his body.
"I've been wondering for a while, but you never had ranger training, right?"
Finn asked, glancing back slightly.
Enkrid answered nonchalantly, as usual.
"I learned from watching a ranger."
It wasn't a lie.
After all, he had learned by watching Finn.
Somehow, this exchange felt familiar.
Just like when Enri had once asked him about the plains—
And he had given a similar answer.
I wonder if that friend made it back to the city safely.
Since he left to join the unit transporting the captured enemy soldiers, there shouldn't be any problems.
Even as Enkrid continued his thoughts, he didn't stop what he was doing.
He listened, watched, and felt.
Refining his senses as he trained, he walked.
The enemy was stationed to the right of the ridge stretching ahead, while their allies were to the left.
By now, the allied forces had likely repositioned as well.
Enkrid only needed to focus on the task at hand.
As he walked, repeating his training, he threw a question at Rem.
"What was that charge earlier?"
"If you're asking how I did it, I swear, I'm gonna feel like smacking the back of your head."
Rem's response was oddly indifferent, his tone clearly admonishing.
Why?
Enkrid quickly realized the reason.
'I asked without thinking.'
Because asking led to answers, he had asked reflexively.
Perhaps it was because he had grown accustomed to giving orders lately.
People weren't perfect.
That included Enkrid.
He was fairly skilled at dealing with others.
He was used to advancing alone.
And no matter what, he would crawl forward if he had to, without turning back.
'I'm lacking. I've forgotten how to think things through.'
Mistakes happened.
That was part of being human.
The difference was that Enkrid adapted quickly.
He acknowledged his mistake, recognized it, and corrected it.
Without responding to Rem, he simply kept walking, withdrawing into his own world.
It meant he should have figured it out without asking.
The answer was already something he had learned.
Sprint, charge—what was necessary?
Strength, muscle power, thigh muscles.
Heart of Monstrous Strenght.
What would happen if he unleashed strength across his entire body and surged forward?
Of course, training was necessary, and he would need time to refine it.
But seeing the path ahead was enough to bring him joy.
Ah, so this is it.
A fleeting smile of exhilaration crossed Enkrid's face.
Seeing that, Rem smirked.
"Seriously, why even ask when it's so obvious?"
That was the meaning behind his grin.
Led by Finn, the group pressed on diligently.
As they walked, Finn found herself repeatedly surprised.
Every single one of them was a monster.
Not one person fell behind.
Was this easy?
No, it wasn't.
Not at all.
It wasn't as if they had received ranger training, either.
'He's really different from that refined-looking face.'
One soldier stood out in particular—the one nicknamed Big Eyes.
From what she had heard, he wasn't even a combatant, yet he kept up without falling behind.
Of course, compared to the others, he was more relying on sheer endurance to follow along, but even that was impressive.
As they crossed the ridge and reached an area of short undergrowth, they stopped.
"This should be the rear side now."
The biggest advantage of moving in small numbers?
Mobility, without a doubt.
And they were making full use of it.
Another descent lay ahead, and this time, Audin and Jaxen stepped forward.
"Ah, why me..."
Rem pouted slightly but didn't complain further.
They had agreed to rotate positions, after all.
If things went south, they would need to retreat with evasive maneuvers,
so someone had to watch the rear.
And they also needed to protect Krais.
As Enkrid walked downhill, he wondered if Esther was watching from somewhere.
She had definitely come along with them, but the moment they had started up the mountain path, she had leapt from his arms and vanished.
Was she off hunting somewhere?
Who knew.
It wasn't something he needed to worry about.
Enkrid continued down the slope, only to come face-to-face with an enemy sentry.
This time, his luck wasn't as good as before.
—Piiiiii!
The soldier blew his whistle the instant he spotted them.
Quick reflexes.
Then, he raised the spear in his hand and shouted.
"Who goes there?! Stop right there!"
Without a word, Enkrid advanced.
One of the sentries ran a hand over his waist—he seemed skilled with throwing knives.
A throwing knife was now reversed in his grip.
'See with your eyes.'
React with your body.
Move in sync with your senses.
The key was to increase reaction speed.
That was what the Sense of Evasion technique was all about.
—Whoosh.
The knife flew toward him.
As it did, Enkrid lowered his stance and charged forward.
Unlike when he activated a singular focus to evade,
this time, he relied purely on reaction speed.
Calm and composed.
That was the essence.
So that was what he did.
Without activating the Heart of the Beast,
he mimicked the footwork of the squire sprinting toward battle.
—Thud, thud!
As he kicked off the ground and surged forward, the enemy thrust his spear.
The tip shot straight toward his chest.
See, react, evade, and deflect.
He compressed all these actions into a single breath, chaining them together.
Extending his left foot, Enkrid twisted his body, dodging the spearhead.
Then, he pushed against the shaft with his palm.
—Smack!
The sudden force caused the enemy's stance to waver.
"Urk!"
His widened eyes drew near.
Because Enkrid hadn't slowed down in the slightest.
At some point, just as Rem had once shown him—Enkrid dashed forward, struck the spear shaft aside, and slipped into the enemy's arms.
It was only natural that the battle ended in an instant.
Squelch!
Enkrid drew a dagger, stabbed the enemy soldier's nape, and withdrew it.
Blood spurted from the gaping wound in a diagonal arc.
Satisfied, Enkrid sheathed his dagger.
'It works.'
It was a skill he had honed without repeating today's practice.
'Sense of Evasion.'
A technique that heightened the body's coordination.
This training had taught him something—
Fundamentally, it altered his reaction speed.
And what did that lead to?
Even without complete focus on a single point, he could move faster than his opponents.
That meant securing the initiative in both attack and positioning.
So, of course, the fight was one-sided.
Even if his opponents were weak, even if he himself was only taking his first steps—
'It works.'
That alone was enough to bring him joy.
Jaxen watched Enkrid's movements with satisfaction.
Yes, that was the way.
Simple yet precise.
Some might call it brute-force training.
Others might call it steadfast perseverance.
That was the essence of this training.
Steady, relentless persistence.
A technique that suited Enkrid perfectly.
As he repeated this training, attuning his senses to his body's coordination, his reaction speed would only grow faster.
'Did he say his dream was to become a knight?'
No dream was too absurd to pursue.
The same applied to himself.
Had he spoken of the goal he had hidden deep within him as a child, not a single person would have taken him seriously.
His thoughts flowed, but Jaxen's hands remained as precise as ever.
Before he knew it, he had maneuvered behind an enemy soldier and slit his throat with a dagger.
Shff.
There was no need to make the blood spurt like a fountain, as Enkrid did.
"Gkk!"
The soldier, throat slit, gripped his spear in his left hand while his right clutched at his wound.
Pressing the wound with his hand?
Pointless.
The major artery had already been severed.
Jaxen had seen countless men die this way.
Blood trickled through the soldier's fingers.
A swift kick to the back of the knee sent him collapsing to the ground.
The moment he lost his grip on his spear, he began to wither like a fish out of water.
Too weak to scream.
Too weak to blow his whistle.
"It's time to go."
They had eliminated two sentries in an instant.
Yet, the sound of a whistle signaled movement from deeper within the enemy camp.
Time to withdraw.
"Let's move."
Enkrid, visibly satisfied, gave a brief reply and turned.
It was time to move through the mountains again.
They set off once more, their pace brisk and unrelenting.
Even in retreat, they moved like phantoms.
By the time the Aspen soldiers arrived in response to the whistle, all they could see was the figures scaling the mountainside.
"After them!"
The enraged rear commander of the Aspen forces bellowed, and soldiers rushed in pursuit.
But how could they possibly catch an elite unit that had already disappeared over the ridgeline?
Their foes were not only faster, but if they pursued in small numbers, they would be vulnerable to counterattacks.
To Krais, the outcome was obvious.
Why wouldn't it be?
If the enemy used elite troops to strike—
Then it was only natural for them to do the same.
Of course, only a unit as insane as theirs could pull it off effectively.
"Quick march."
From ahead, Enkrid's voice carried over.
Krais silently observed his platoon leader.
Had he read his thoughts?
That, he suddenly found himself wondering.

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