Eternally Regressing Knight
Chapter 151 - 151 - An Impossible Matter
Chapter 151 - An Impossible Matter
It was early in the morning.
Perhaps it was the moment when the end of dawn and the beginning of morning met.
As the sun started to rise, the training field on one side of the barracks turned orange.
How many people would be out on the training field at this time?
If not for the patrol guards, Enkrid would likely be the only one.
Therefore, seeing someone else on the training field before him at this time was a rare occurrence.
No, it was almost the first time.
Enkrid thought to himself as he placed his right hand on his waist and saluted.
It was an appropriate gesture.
The person who had hosted yesterday's banquet and was now in charge of overseeing the city of Border Guard.
He nodded.
Battalion Commander Marcus nodded back in response to the salute.
Marcus was not alone.
It was rarer for him to be by himself.
Behind him were two more individuals.
Two figures standing in the shade at the corner of the training field.
One of them, a Frog, stepped forward.
It was difficult to discern all the features of the Frog with human eyes,
but it was clear that this one was different from the others Enkrid had met so far.
There were no scars on the neck, nor was there a ferocious glare in its eyes.
Instead, it had a curious look, and its white cheeks puffed slightly.
Grrr.
The Frog made its signature noise and scanned Enkrid from head to toe,
its gaze moving from his feet back up to his face.
It was a rare talent to so clearly show where its gaze was focused.
"I think an introduction is in order."
Marcus spoke from behind.
It was a timely suggestion.
The Frog stopped its growling and spoke.
"I'm a Frog."
Well, that was obvious just by looking at the face.
In fact, even seeing just the three fingers would be enough to tell.
Its appearance was completely different from other species.
"You're rambling."
Someone else stepped forward from behind, but it wasn't just stepping forward.
Enkrid briefly saw a vision—a vision of his head being severed.
It came first, and the reaction came after.
Thud!
The sound of blades meeting, metal clashing, rang across the training field.
Enkrid blocked the opponent's strike with his half-drawn sword.
When had he drawn it?If it wasn't instinct developed from dying countless times, would he have died?
Or would he have frozen in place?
He wasn't sure which.
"Is this how you block?"
The opponent's voice reached his ears.
It was thin and high-pitched.
A woman with short hair tied tightly behind her.
She had a round face that looked gentle, but the sword in her hand was anything but.
"Should I try again?"
Her voice, oozing with ease, was followed by another rush of blades.
What could he say about this?
There was nothing else to say.
Enkrid saw blades falling above his head,blades aimed at his belly,
his neck almost being severed, arms getting sliced off, and even blades piercing his thighs.
He saw a sword aimed at his foot.
It felt like standing bare-bodied in the middle of a storm.
It was like being on a small boat, facing a tsunami.
'If I don't get out of here right now, I'll die.'
The fear of death clouded his mind.
No matter how many times he repeated today, no matter how much growth it would bring, forgetting and cutting off the fear was an impossible thing for a human.
Enkrid was just a madman who knew how to fight against fear.
'If I retreat...'
In the midst of the storm of blades, Enkrid realized that retreating would allow him to avoid this.
As long as he retreated, it would be over.
He wouldn't have to stand alone in this storm anymore.
So would he retreat?
"Dreams are meant to be given up."
"Are you a little... dizzy?"
"Have you lost your mind? What? A knight? A mercenary scum?"
"Sorry, it was my first real battle."
"Go back to your village. Farm, and if you don't like that, join the local watch. You'll end up as the captain in no time."
With a laugh.
The faces of those who had spoken to him in such a manner flashed through his mind.
His heart was wildly thumping.
They had told him to give up, that it was pointless.
They had also asked if the path he was taking now was the right one.
In the storm of blades, Enkrid had died countless times.
But the darkness never came, and the ferryman was nowhere to be seen.
He simply died.
Again and again, countless times.
The light was fading.
Instead of the first light of dawn, a shadow of death was looming.
Everything was hitting him with pain and agony.
He already knew the answer.
All he had to do was retreat.
One step was all it would take.
One step back.
The storm of blades urged him to retreat, telling him this was not the place for him to stand.
All he had to do was take one step back, and he would be freed from all this pain and agony.
He understood it.
And yet, he couldn't retreat.
He knew that retreating wouldn't affect his swordsmanship or his trained body.
And yet, he couldn't retreat.
He knew that everything would end the moment he retreated,
but still, he couldn't do it.
His torn and broken dreams asked him why.
"Are you really going to become a knight?"
The words of those who had passed through life and said too much didn't shake his heart.
There was no reason for it.
But this—this was different.
This wasn't how it was supposed to be.
The moment Enkrid decided to become a knight, he had already armed himself with the sharpest sword.
That was willpower, conviction, and stubbornness.
Once the heart crumbles, there would be no place to stand.
Every step forward, even if it was a half-step or crawling, could never be taken back.
Enkrid had no intention of retreating.
He only—'I'm lacking.'
He simply realized his own inadequacies.
His body's coordination, his sense of evasion.
What if he had trained those?
If he had fully mastered them?
What about the Heart of Monstrous Strength?
Even the techniques of isolation and Valaf-style martial arts could have been of help.
What if he had diligently built up the fundamentals, training them until his sword could extend straight and precisely, like the mustache man did?
All of that could have formed the foundation to navigate through this situation.
Enkrid couldn't retreat.
He would never do so.
So he took a step forward.
"That's enough."
The storm, as suddenly as it had come, ended just as quickly.
When the Frog intervened, it vanished as if washed away.
"Phew."
Enkrid exhaled the breath he had been holding.
His heart pounded as though it would leap out of his chest.
His legs wobbled.
He wanted to collapse but held it in.
Instead, he looked at the opponent.
A gentle-looking woman with short hair.
Enkrid focused on one desire.
He wanted to know what trick she had just used.
"I've never seen someone like you, how can you endure this without knowing how to handle it? If you had stayed there a little longer, you'd have died."
The one who had extended the storm from beside the Frog spoke.
"Who?"
Enkrid parted his lips that wouldn't open, asking.
"Me? Aishia."
As she spoke, she took a step forward.
Flap.
The woman unfurled a cloak she had thrown over her shoulder and wrapped it around herself.
It spread out in a flutter.
The color was a crimson that cut through the orange of the morning.
A crimson cloak, alongside a Frog, and personally escorted by Marcus—who could this opponent be?
"The Crimson Cloak Order?"
Enkrid murmured, and the woman nodded.
"I'm Squire Knight Aishia."
Her smile matched her gentle appearance, bright and innocent.
And that was it.
Standing tall, staring—this was the best Enkrid could do.
Then, his senses suddenly cut off.
His vision darkened, and the ferryman appeared.
'Am I dead?'
No, it didn't feel like that.
He wasn't dead.
Then, is this a dream?
As he pondered inwardly,
"It's a dream."
The ferryman spoke.
It was strange hearing his words, as he still had no eyes, nose, or mouth.
"I'm watching now."
The ferryman's next words sparked another question in Enkrid.
"Were you not watching until now?"
At that question, the boat on the black river seemed to tilt slightly.
Just as suddenly as it had started, the dream abruptly ended.
The alternation of light and darkness.
In that moment, only the ferryman's last words lingered in his ears.
"You skipped training today, huh?"
What was that?
Why did it sound like he was mocking him?
That could be possible.
Just because he was a ferryman didn't mean he wouldn't joke.
But the tone, the words, left a strange feeling.
Enkrid ignored it.
If it was something that couldn't be understood, ignoring it was the answer.
By the way,
Before he passed out, he thought he had heard Jaxen's voice.
As Enkrid collapsed, the Frog reached out a hand but stopped.
Someone had already caught him from behind.
With reddish-brown hair and calm eyes.
"Playing with fire."
He spoke in a quiet tone.
The Frog, thinking about it, turned her gaze sideways.
There, a man with a fierce presence was glaring at her menacingly.
"What do you think you are doing so early in the morning?"
Gray hair, gray eyes—was he from the west?
Behind him, a big man like a bear was present.
"Heh, good morning, sister. May I ask why you're doing this to my little and precious squad leader?"
What were these guys?
The Frog had the thought anew.
Behind the trio, a blonde man with red eyes holding a sword could be seen.
He was unmistakably a northern warrior, his appearance distinctive.
His hair was a mess, and there were traces of drool at the corner of his mouth.
'His sword posture is quite something.'
It was very much to her liking.
The Frog had come here at Marcus's request.
She wanted to assess someone's talent.
She wanted to know if the person had the qualities to become a knight.
After the battle in the front lines ended, she stopped by on her way back.
The Frog's eyes were different from those of humans and fairies.
He could detect a talent that couldn't be fulfilled by mere training.
Because of their unique perspective, people called them the talent assessor.
Now, the Frog himself was being assessed
Though it wasn't a level where he could recognize them instantly, there were times when simply seeing was enough.
Especially when it was a gem that shone alone, even in the mud.
That was how these people were now.
To the Frog's eyes, they were individuals with talents found if you took one in ten thousand, and from that, one in a thousand once again.
"These guys?"
"Madmen Squad members."
Marcus answered from behind.
He had a rough understanding of what was going on.
He had called them all crazy, said that they only followed their squad leader, and that it was strange.
'A shame though.'
For now, there was no time to take them in or anything.
What was more important was the enmity in front of them, which wasn't something to take lightly.
Having such talent didn't automatically make one a knight.
In reality, there was no real need to accept them.
What is a knight?
It was a world where every condition must align before one could even think of stepping in, a title only given to those who met those conditions.
"Quite an interesting bunch,"
Aishia said from behind.
She wasn't particularly combative.
She was simply doing the test Marcus asked for.
As she spoke, Aisia showed her palms, signaling that she had no intention of fighting.
If Enkrid had seen that, he would have been surprised.
After her first strike, she had returned the sword to its sheath and never drew it again.
It was all done through momentum and pressure.
Momentum and pressure, that is, using force to make the opponent faint.
It was something only those at the near-knight level could attempt.
In reality, it was a highly inefficient method.
It would be more effective to just knock someone out with a single blow.
Why go through all the effort, exuding pressure and all that?
The mental energy spent on this wasn't insignificant.
Aishia had only done it because it was Marcus's request.
It was a test for those with potential.
That was all.
There was no danger of any threatening energy.
More importantly, Marcus's comment had drawn their full attention.
"How about it? Do you think he could become a knight?"
If there was a possibility, he could become a squire, soon to be assigned under a knight.
Marcus had given a gift.
Indeed, it wasn't a gift of low value.
What was Enkrid's dream?
What did he most desire?
A gift was valuable when it met what one wanted.
Marcus had learned to use his knowledge of politics properly.
He had prepared the thing his opponents desired most.
A question arose,
And Aishia spoke first.
"No."
Following her, the Frog also spoke.
"Not even close."
What was a knight?
A knight gathers ten thousand talented individuals.
From those, they select a thousand.
Then they filter those thousand further.
Only a few reach the knightly world.
"This one's difficult. How about you? Interested?"
The Frog asked, pointing directly at one person.
The large, round eyes, resembling a frog's, were focused on Ragna.
Ragna blinked, his eyes caked with sleep.
"Nothing to learn from you."
Once he left his squad leader, he was nothing but a lazy bum.
He knew that better than anyone, so it was naturally a refusal.
'Ah, what a shame.'
The Frog clicked her tongue in regret.
From their looks, they seemed like the type a female Frog would eye, and with their talent, joining the knight order seemed like it would be a fun thing, but they refused?
Even though it was an offer from the Crimson Cloak Knights?
She couldn't take them all, but surely one could have been accepted.
"Quite an interesting bunch. I've honored the request. Don't forget that, Marcus, Battalion Commander of the Regiment."
"Ah, of course."
Marcus and Aishia spoke as they followed behind.
Aishia gave the Frog a light tap on the back.
"What are you doing? Let's go."
Both had much to do.
They needed to return to the capital, deliver the victory report, and discuss the Aspen treaty.
There was a mountain of other tasks to handle.
"I'll stay a few more days before heading back."
"Hmm?"
Aishia tilted her head, the ponytail tied at the back swaying.
What was he talking about?
"Go ahead first."
The Frog said.
Aishia was about to say something, but stopped.
In truth, there was no issue with going alone.
Her affiliation would prove herself.
She was a member of the Crimson Cloak Knights.
She didn't need to say anything more.
Above all, Frogs were known for their hedonistic nature, unable to control their desires and interests.
She assumed the Frog was interested in the red-headed soldier.
"Well then."
Aishia turned and spoke.
Unknowingly, Vengeance, who had volunteered for the night watch, observed all of this.
He had intended to speak with Enkrid after his disgraceful behavior the previous night, but he saw everything unfold.
No one paid him much attention.
It wasn't a big deal that the knight path was closed off for Enkrid.
There were plenty of people like that in the world.
"I'll be staying a few more days."
The Frog told Marcus, who nodded.
Leaving behind the unconscious Enkrid, the morning meeting came to an end.

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