Eternally Regressing Knight
Chapter 64 - 64 - One Strike
Chapter 64 - One Strike
As the door opened, it was Rem who first stepped inside.
"What the..."
He tried to say something while entering, but there wasn't even time to finish his sentence.
Something dropped from above onto Rem's head.
As if he had anticipated it, Rem swung his axe vertically.
A blinding flash from the axe's arc cut through the darkness of the room.
No sooner had Rem swung than he launched himself sideways in a swift, almost reflexive motion.
It was all so fluid, as if choreographed in advance.
Thud.
The corpse that hit the ground was the only evidence of what had just occurred.
"What the hell?"
Krais peeked his head inside, startled.
The attacker had been hiding in the ceiling.
Holding short knives in both hands, the man had been cleaved from his chest to his crotch by Rem's axe, spilling his guts and blood onto the floor.
The stench of blood and death filled the room.
"And here I thought it was just some petty crime guild."
Krais muttered to himself.
"These bastards..."
Rem twisted his lips into a crooked smile.
"How cute."
With that, he strode further inside.
The interior was spacious, with brick walls reinforced by earth and straw.
A passage turned to the right, visible just beyond the walls.
As Rem walked ahead—
"Is it you?"
He suddenly spoke and swung his axe.
The merciless strike claimed a second life.
This time, the victim had been hiding by the corner of the passage.
He had tried to jab at Rem with something resembling a skewer, but it was futile.
Rem's axe was faster.
The enemy was part of a crime guild—pickpockets and extortionists at best.
On the other hand, this group was a band of seasoned soldiers, fighting for a living.
Moreover, Enkrid himself was a high-ranking soldier, and the others were even more skilled.
'I thought we'd have the advantage, but seeing it firsthand is something else.'
The crime guild members were skilled at stealth and ambush, striking with knives in the shadows.
Even so, Rem dismantled every single surprise attack.
He wasn't just rampaging; there was a quiet, restrained madness in his actions.
A madness that screamed 'Come at me, and I'll split you in half.'
And as Rem moved, he kept speaking.
"Is it you?"
He would ask with each kill.
"It's you, isn't it?"
Slash!
"Is it you?"
The fifth ambusher had his head split open before Rem asked again.
"Dead men don't talk."
Enkrid quipped from behind.
Rem, gripping his blood-drenched axe, scratched his head with the handle.
"I know that, but since the living aren't answering, I might as well try?"
The answer must lie with someone else.
The passage turned right, revealing two more rooms—one on the left and another on the right.
Beyond them lay a space resembling a reception area.
The structure wasn't complicated: the reception room, two bedrooms, a storage room for provisions, and a kitchen.
That was all.
And five ambushers, all dead.
None had spoken a word.
"For a crime syndicate, they seem unusually prepared. These might actually be the ones targeting the squad leader."
Krais examined one of the bodies and spoke while scrutinizing the face.
"Don't recognize this one."
Enkrid nodded, agreeing both that the face was unfamiliar and that these individuals were likely the culprits.
'Is this good luck or bad?'
To be honest, this was half an excuse to dodge trouble.
While it was logical for a crime guild to forge identification and employ assassins,
'Against professional soldiers from the Border Guard?'
For anyone wanting to survive in this city, that's not a move you'd make lightly.
And yet, they did.
They must have had their reasons.
Of course, those reasons didn't matter to Enkrid.
They had stumbled into this place almost by chance,
like shooting a random arrow that happened to strike a boar right between the eyes.
"Is that it?"
Rem asked as he searched the area.
Five attackers, five dead.
The job was practically over with just Rem's rampage.
"That can't be all. If Jaxen's intel is solid, there's more."
Krais lit some straw with a flint from his pouch.
The crackle of sparks set the straw alight, casting light in the cold, lifeless house.
Using the makeshift torch, Krais searched the surroundings thoroughly.
Soon, he stomped on a corner of the reception room floor.
Thunk.
A hollow sound echoed.
The floor was empty underneath.
"I'll handle this."
Audin stepped up.
The area was covered with cheap fur and weighed down by a chair. He grabbed the fur and tossed it aside.
The chair fell with a heavy thud.
Then, Audin crouched and gave a hearty knock.
Bang.
His fist drove straight down, creating a hole in the wooden floor. Reaching through, he unlatched the hidden lock.
"Where does it lead?"
"Their base."
Jaxen answered Krais's question in a calm tone, as if he had expected this.
Rem glanced at Enkrid.
The flickering torchlight turned Rem's originally gray eyes crimson.
"Let's keep going."
Enkrid spoke before Rem could say a word.
If they had started this, they might as well finish it.
This wasn't just about taking down a petty crime group.
This was a guild, large enough to warrant the name.
Not a ragtag bunch of misfits calling themselves a guild, but something far more organized.
If they were behind the assassination attempt, Enkrid needed answers.
Only a fool would let those who sought their life roam free.
And Enkrid was no fool.
"Of course!"
Rem eagerly took the lead.
The tunnel wasn't long.
In less than half an hour, they found a path leading upward.
The cold was biting, but Rem had discarded his cloak long ago when he'd encountered a vagrant.
Watching Rem's shivering back, Enkrid couldn't help but sense the simmering rage in his posture.
"There's someone up there."
Jaxen, walking just behind Rem, spoke up.
It meant the entrance was guarded.
"They were expecting us."
Krais remarked from the rear.
"We can't let bandits run rampant in the city."
Audin, once again, stepped forward.
Breaking doors seemed to be his specialty—or maybe just a hobby.
Skipping two earthen steps at a time, he twisted his body upward, slamming into the door with his shoulder and back.
It was an unusual technique.
Enkrid's eyes gleamed as he watched.
Boom!
The sound of an explosion echoed.
Or perhaps it was a fire spell detonating.
The door flew off its hinges, soaring into the air.
"Ugh!"
The guards' startled cries rang out.
And then, it was Rem's stage again.
"Is it you?"
Shouting his usual, cryptic question, Rem leapt forward.
His first step landed on the stairs, the second on Audin's thigh, launching him into the air as he swung his hand axe.
From below, Enkrid could only see Rem's back end.
But the results were evident.
With loud thuds, bodies fell, and blood spilled over the jagged edges of the broken entrance.
"That brother has no manners. Walking on someone else's thigh like that," Audin remarked, brushing off his thigh before stepping forward.
Jaxen and Ragna followed, with Enkrid and Krais bringing up the rear.
As they advanced, a blaze of torchlight surrounded them.
"Ah, so it's you crazy bastards," came a voice from the shadows.
Enkrid surveyed the area.
More than thirty armed men stood before them, each wielding a weapon: spiked clubs, shortswords, spears, and even blackjacks made of sand-filled leather pouches.
The variety of weapons underscored their readiness.
The torchlight brightened the scene, and Krais tossed his makeshift straw torch into a nearby hole.
He let out a low whistle of admiration.
"Wow, that's quite a crowd."
Enkrid shared the sentiment.
"You're soldiers, aren't you?" he asked.
Amidst the armed men stood a lone figure, draped in fine silk and a coat made of monstrous leather.
He leaned casually on a jewel-adorned cane, a luxury item meant to flaunt wealth rather than aid mobility.
"Are you the Gilpin gang?" Enkrid countered a question with another. The finely dressed man frowned, clearly offended.
"Why is everyone so eager to die?"
"I'm here about the ambush at Border Guard," Enkrid replied firmly.
Before he could finish, Rem stepped forward.
His question was direct and sharp.
"Was it you?"
The meaning was clear, Rem was asking if this man was behind the assassination attempt on Enkrid.
'That's just like Rem,' Enkrid thought.
'But who would actually confess to that?'
The man's reaction was bold, not flustered.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
The confidence only deepened the squad's suspicion.
"It's him," Jaxen muttered.
"Yeah, looks like it," Ragna agreed, staring intently at the man.
Unlike his usual half-lidded gaze, Ragna's sharp focus was almost piercing.
Audin stepped forward, his massive frame casting long shadows in the torchlight.
His towering figure, nearly two meters tall, was a wall of pure muscle.
Even Enkrid's impressive stature of nearly 180 cm paled in comparison.
"Brother, did you really target our brother squad leader?" Audin asked.
His voice was calm but carried a weight that made nearby men flinch.
The man sneered, but his words betrayed a flicker of unease.
"What nonsense! Why would I bother sending assassins after some lowly soldier?"
"You just admitted to using assassins," Enkrid noted, his tone cold.
The man stiffened momentarily but quickly recovered.
"So what now?"
The gang of thirty was ready, their confidence bolstered by their numbers and preparation.
But to Enkrid, it didn't matter.
He drew his longsword, letting its tip carve a line into the frozen ground.
This wasn't a battlefield but a massacre waiting to happen.
Even criminals deserved a chance to avoid needless slaughter.
"Think carefully. Otherwise, you'll all die here tonight."
His words drew laughter and mockery from the gang.
"Who's gonna die, huh?"
"Has he lost his mind from fear?"
The criminals jeered, but none stepped forward.
Rem, watching silently, finally spoke. "What are you doing?"
"I gave them a chance," Enkrid replied calmly.
"Brother, their eyes are clouded by evil. They won't believe without seeing," Audin murmured.
Enkrid nodded and took another approach.
"Who among you is the best with a blade?"
A show of strength might change their minds.
Enkrid stepped forward, sword in hand.
"Come on, then," he challenged.
The gang leader chuckled and motioned for someone to step forward.
A mercenary-looking man, grizzled and battle-worn, accepted the challenge.
"You're overconfident, kid. I'll make this quick," the mercenary sneered.
Without warning, he lunged with a spear, employing a trick Enkrid recognized from his own mercenary days.
But Enkrid had grown beyond his past self.
Sidestepping smoothly, he closed the distance and thrust his sword upward in a single, decisive motion.
The fight was over in one strike.
The mercenary gurgled as blood poured from his wound.
Enkrid shoved him aside and withdrew his blade.
The man collapsed, his life spilling onto the cold ground.
The air grew still, the gang's mocking laughter replaced by silence and unease.
Enkrid looked up, his voice steady.
"Anyone wants to cross the line?"

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