Eternally Regressing Knight
Chapter 140 - 140 - Fine, Whatever
Chapter 140 - Fine, Whatever
"We'll be learning Sense of Evasion this time."
If Ragna had insisted on always carrying two swords, then Jaxen had started teaching something else.
It was likely one of the things he had mentioned on the day they killed the giant.
Enkrid learned it simultaneously.
There was no real need to learn it separately.
What Jaxen was teaching didn't interfere with other training.
It mostly started with improving dynamic vision—throwing pebbles with something written on them, and the task was to read them midair.
Of course, it wasn't easy.
But steadily, bit by bit, he was improving.
Now, he could even clearly read the characters written on flying pebbles.
That was possible thanks to all the experience Enkrid had accumulated.
Experiences that awakened talent.
Experiences built on trust in himself and the belief that he could do it.
Just then, as a pebble flew toward his forehead—
"Ambush!"
A sharp cry rang out.
Enkrid snatched the pebble out of the air with a snap.
"Enemies!"
Fweeeeet!
"Arrows incoming! Get your heads down!"
Between the shouts of the commander and the startled soldiers, Jaxen spoke.
"What's written on it?"
This guy was relentless.
Enkrid had both swords at his waist, and he was wearing leather armor.
Even if they were at ease, they couldn't afford to move around without their basic gear.
Because of that, his armor reeked of sweat—something Esther despised—but this place was still a battlefield where combat could erupt at any moment.
Enkrid turned and answered.
"'Ma.'"
"Good."
Jaxen nodded and stood up.
But before either of them could react further, someone dashed ahead, faster than both of them.
"Where are they?!"
It was Rem.
It had been eight days.
Thanks to his spars with Enkrid and Andrew, he wasn't exactly pent-up, but he was certainly restless.
The barbarian from the west charged forward, delighted at the thought of swinging his axe.
You never know.
A giant might pop out from somewhere again.
And then what?
That would be
too
exciting.
Rem's steps were light, his body nimble.
He moved faster than any commander or soldier.
Enkrid, too, headed toward the commotion.
It was at the outskirts of the unit, near the boundary—toward the enemy's camp.
When they arrived, Rem was whipping his head back and forth.
Enkrid scanned the area as well, but—
There was no sign of an enemy.
Only a lone soldier, dead, an arrow lodged in his skull.
"Where are they?"
At Enkrid's question, Jaxen also looked around and answered.
"They're not here."
Even with Jaxen's eyes, there was barely any trace.
Which meant—
The enemy hadn't even attempted to invade.
They had just fired arrows from afar and left?
One of their men had died because of it, but...
Was that even effective?
Rustle.
Beyond the defensive perimeter, movement stirred in the dense foliage.
But it wasn't the enemy.
It was their own.
The soldiers bearing the eagle insignia—the infamous Frontier Slaughterers Unit—were moving.
"Pursue."
At the command of what seemed to be their leader, they swiftly entered the forest.
Watching them, Enkrid noticed something.
Their movements...
Every step they took resembled Finn's.
Like rangers.
At the very least, they had the skills of one.
"What the hell."
Rem stood there, disgruntled.
His eyes narrowed.
"Don't."
Enkrid shut down the fire before it spread.
If he left Rem alone, he'd go berserk again.
"Come here."
He called him back.
Rem looked as if his gray hair was bristling in irritation.
But then, with a short huff, he turned around.
"The bastards are filthy cowards."
He muttered and glanced at the fallen soldier, the one with the arrow through his skull.
His eyes weren't filled with pity.
He was looking at the arrow.
"They brought that crazy bastard back, and now we have this mess to deal with again."
From the look in his eyes, he recognized it.
"Who?"
"You don't remember?"
Enkrid tilted his head.
It might be in Rem's memory, but for Enkrid, his days had been different from Rem's.
They had experienced time differently.
"That Hawk Claw, or Nipple-whatever bastard."
At that, Enkrid finally turned his attention to the arrow.
Unlike the others, its shaft was longer, with feathers extending far back.
Even without checking the blood-stained arrowhead, he could tell.
It wasn't a normal arrow.
Rem scratched his jaw, restless.
A missed target.
Rem had once lived as a hunter.
His eyes traced the lingering trail of his prey.
Should he follow?
If he did, how long would it take?
Enkrid lightly tapped Rem's shoulder as he tried to gauge the time.
"Want to spar?"
Let it be.
Sooner or later, the day would come.
When that time came, they could talk.
Of course, not with words, but with axes.
"Sure."
Enkrid turned around after calming Rem.
Whoosh.
A stone flew from behind Enkrid's head.
A small pebble grazed past his vision in an instant.
It flew past Enkrid's eyes and lightly scraped Rem's forehead.
When had it been picked up, and when had something been carved into it?
"Chin."
Enkrid read the letters, surprised but remaining composed.
If he had been even a little careless, he would have missed it.
"Good."
Jaxen nodded and spoke.
"Want to die? Where are you throwing stones?"
Rem reacted immediately.
"Oh, you were there? I didn't see you."
Jaxen blatantly lied in a way that made it obvious.
Just another casual squabble.
"Enough."
Though it was routine, something had changed.
Enkrid no longer pushed his body between them to stop them.
Now, words were enough.
"Cut it out, Rem."
Just a bit more forceful than before, carrying a bit more will.
It was something he realized while learning the Heart of the Beast.
Rem followed his words better than he expected.
The same went for Jaxen.
In Jaxen's case, he didn't need words.
A single glare was enough.
"Understood. I'll be careful."
And with that, the issue was settled.
By the time they returned to the front of the barracks—
"Something happen?"
Ragna, who had just woken up late, asked.
If he wasn't watching Enkrid or sparring with him, he was still the same lazy friend.
"An enemy ambush. Fired a few arrows and ran."
"I see."
Did this bastard even listen properly?
He didn't seem to care at all.
Was he just fearless, or did he simply not think at all?
'The latter.'
If he had to bet on it, it was definitely the latter.
Enkrid straightened his sword, adjusting his posture and breathing.
Then, he devoted himself to training once more.
Between drills, he also practiced reading the letters carved into the stones.
He used the Valaf-style acupressure techniques to loosen his muscles.
Alongside learning martial techniques, hand-to-hand combat, and joint locks, he continued honing the Isolation Technique.
At the same time, he never let go of the two swords in his hands.
"Form. Your form must not collapse. No matter what you do, always maintain your form. If your form collapses, you will get hurt. Brother, you wouldn't want to be the platoon leader who gets injured, would you?"
Was this a warning?
Holding two swords while maintaining the stance for the Isolation Technique was exhausting.
But it was just that—exhausting.
It wasn't impossible.
Which meant there was no problem at all.
At least, not for Enkrid.
As the sun began to set in the west—
"Ambush! Damn it!"
A soldier's shout rang out.
The enemy attempted contact once more.
If the first time had caught them off guard, they should have been prepared for the second.
Yet, once again, an arrow flew in and struck an ally's head.
The frontier defense troops responded.
A squad, specialized in such terrain, was deployed.
But once again, they failed to catch them.
"This isn't good."
Krais furrowed his brows at the situation.
Enkrid ignored him.
The enemy was merely firing from a distance and fleeing.
They were tricky to catch.
Not to mention, they were using an unusual weapon—
A longbow with an abnormally extended range, firing a single shot before vanishing.
How were they supposed to catch someone like that?
Enkrid focused solely on training.
He didn't consider it his problem.
He barely had the mental energy to concentrate on what was in front of him.
"an."
Starting from 'Ma,' he had now read the letters on the fifth stone.
When strung together— "Mad Barbarian."
"...This was written before I said I'd be careful."
Jaxen gave a half-hearted excuse.
He avoided Enkrid's gaze and spoke while staring at the ground.
Enkrid didn't even feel like responding.
"Hold it in."
Instead, he just stopped Rem.
Rem had silently drawn his axe, looking ready to throw it at any moment.
Another day passed.
The next day was the same.
Training, or sparring.
Occasional enemy ambushes.
Krais kept mumbling about how things didn't look good.
Enkrid and Jaxen began proper training together.
"The Sense of Evasion is ultimately about cultivating the ability to dodge.That means improving predictive abilities through experience and enhancing bodily coordination.
The goal is to see and react at the same time—to evade while moving instinctively."
What exactly were they supposed to be dodging?
Enkrid stared, wanting to ask.
Jaxen drew his sword.
Srrng.
The blade reflected the light as Jaxen asked,
"Are you going to fight with two swords?"
Was that concern or a warning?
Maybe both.
"Yeah."
Enkrid endures no matter what.
Knowing that, Jaxen nodded inwardly and decided to pass on something of his own.
"If you can't dodge, you'll die."
Another line, carrying both warning and concern, followed.
Ping.
The sound of the air being pierced.
Enkrid saw a dot—a tiny point was shot at him.
Even as he activated his focus, splitting time itself—
Tick.
"Next time, you'll really die."
The tip of the sword touched his forehead.
He couldn't move an inch.
Was it speed?
Quickness?
No, it felt like something else entirely.
It was a thrust, like a single point of absolute focus.
Something that wasn't possible with just speed alone.
How should he describe this?
He had seen Rem's axe swings bend like a whip.
He had witnessed flashes of light slicing through the air.
He had encountered enemy thrusts and even dodged incoming whistle daggers.
But Jaxen's thrust was different from everything he had experienced.
It almost felt like magic.
As if space itself had folded, and the sword simply arrived at its target.
A thrust delivered without the slightest hint of intent or movement.
"Again."
Enkrid's eyes burned.
This was something new.
And he was always ready to accept something new.
"If you can't dodge, you really will die."
Jaxen kept repeating those words, but in reality, there was no actual death.
Should he say it was the same as always?
Or that nothing ever changed?
Enkrid—
Three or four times a day, enemy arrows would fly, grazing him or not.
Whether the allied troops cared or not.
Whether the border garrison kept making mistakes or not.
None of it mattered.
He devoted himself entirely to training.
Was the thrust invisible?
No.
He could see it.
He could see it, but he simply couldn't dodge it.
From now on, as Jaxen said, what he needed was coordination.
He had to reduce his reaction time to the extreme—
See it, then move.
So why was Jaxen's sword impossible to avoid?
"It's called the 'Lifeless Thrust,' but you don't need to learn it."
Jaxen said it offhandedly, but that only made Enkrid more determined.
"When can I learn it?"
"Finish this first before asking that."
"Alright."
The 'Lifeless Thrust' was a high-speed thrust without killing intent.
Enkrid's body had always reacted instinctively to intent.
But since there was none here, his body didn't recognize the threat—
So it didn't react properly.
forcing his body to react at will.
"Just see it and respond."
Easier said than done.
But little by little, there was progress.
Even if it was at a crawling pace, Enkrid could feel his own growth.
How could that not be exciting?
Moreover—
"You really are improving."
Jaxen, compared to other instructors, was kind and didn't hold back praise.
The training he knew was simple—
With constant effort, as long as one risked half their life, improvement was inevitable.
Still, Jaxen couldn't help but question something.
'Why am I doing this?'
He kept stepping in because he couldn't stand watching,
but he didn't understand why he was helping Enkrid.
He had always been trained to justify every action with a reason—
Yet here he was, doing the exact opposite.
'For now, I'll just go with it.'
Jaxen set his thoughts aside.
For now, simply watching Enkrid was enough.
For the first time in his life, he felt satisfaction.
He had killed people, again and again.
Checked their corpses.
Gathered information.
But through it all, he had never felt a thing.
This was the first time.
How could he not be thrilled?
That was why a smile appeared on Jaxen's face as he thrust his sword.
Enkrid, however, had no time to notice it.
Only Rem, Ragna, and Audin, who stood nearby, saw it.
"That bastard's really trying to kill him," Rem muttered irritably.
"This spar is getting excessive. Isn't it my turn?"
Ragna voiced his own selfish desire.
"Haha, Brother seems to be enjoying himself.
But balance is important.
As the Lord once said, what happens when a scale is tipped too far...?"
Audin's words dragged on, his tongue loosened.
All three of them were sulking.
And watching them, Krais thought—
'This is really bad.'
They might be swinging their swords without a care,
but the state of the unit was turning into a complete mess.
If only the commanders or the border garrison would handle it—
but was it that they lacked someone with brains,
or that they simply weren't thinking at all?
'I mean, how long are we just going to sit around watching?'
To Krais, the answer was obvious.
If things continued like this, they were just asking for trouble.
Why wasn't anyone doing anything?
He had no choice.
"Hey, Captain."
Krais didn't want to sit around and endure the danger.
More than anything, it was so obvious what needed to be done—he couldn't just ignore it.
"Hm?"
Sweat dripped from Enkrid as he turned his head.
The fire in his eyes meant nothing to Krais.
"Are you going to make any suggestions to command?"
Enkrid tilted his head, confused by the sudden question.
"If we keep wasting time like this, nothing good is going to come from it..."
Krais began explaining—
Laying out the unit's potential and the actions they could take.
"...So we have mobility.
If we can control it, that should be enough."
It was a simple and straightforward argument.
Enkrid had experienced it several times before—
Big Eyes wasn't just a greedy bastard.
He nodded.
"Alright, let's do it."
There were plenty of things he had wanted to test out anyway.
This was a good opportunity.
For Enkrid, nodding was the obvious choice.
"Good."
Maybe it was the tension, but Krais let out a breath.
Enkrid simply nodded again.
What was so difficult about this?
The final decision would be up to the command anyway.

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