Eternally Regressing Knight
Chapter 159 - 159 - You See as Much as You Know
Chapter 159 - You See as Much as You Know
There were ten whistle daggers, and the wide leather armor wasn't scratchy because it had a thin fabric lining inside.
The armor was fine.
I quite liked it.
It wasn't like the armor that blocked magic like the previous one, but if it blocked physical attacks, this one would be good enough.
Though it might be uncomfortable to wear when it's hot.
But if needed, I'd have to wear it, what else could I do?
The leather had countless thin chains hammered into it in a lattice pattern.
It had weight, but its defensive capability seemed superior.
"It's my masterpiece," said the blacksmith.
He would say something like that.
He said he would charge half-price, but the armor was naturally expensive.
There were costs for repairing the leather and for making the thin chains individually.
He said it took nearly a year to make the armor.
"Use it well."
The blacksmith, with a red face, handed it over.
It was a gift from him.
I couldn't just accept it, so I had to beg Krais to pay for it.
The blacksmith silently accepted the Krona coin pouch.
Anyway, with the armor I got and two daggers that would fit around my ankles, a guard sword behind my waist, and eight throwing knives tucked into my thighs and sides.
The whistling daggers were strapped across my chest in an X pattern.
It wasn't uncomfortable when I drew them, I knew the angle from experience.
It was an angle I used often.
I thought it would be good to have a knife for random use on the road, so I packed that as well.
Should I bring a shortsword too?
If my sword breaks, it would make a good backup.
As I was packing various things, it was becoming quite a load.
I'd need a thick blanket for sleeping outside, and I'd probably need a pot too.
I could ask Krais to bring the pot, but there were plenty of other things to prepare.
I'd need charcoal to get me through the night, a thick cloth, wooden spoons and forks, and a thin iron plate mixed with copper. It would be perfect for grilling food.
I'd need to carry a backpack for the journey, and it was going to be heavy.
If I had to name the number one factor that kept me alive so far, despite my lack of skill with a sword, it would be my thorough preparation.
Once it becomes a habit, it sticks with you.
Even if there are only four of us, and those four are quite formidable fighters.
The Frog, for instance, travels alone usually.
I know the dangers of traveling better than anyone for some reason, so I can't afford to be careless in my preparations.
This gave me peace of mind.
"Are you really bringing all that?"
From the side, Luagarne made a remark that sounded like a scolding.
It might have been admiration, but I didn't pay much attention to it.
My own peace of mind was the priority, after all.
"Yes, it's a pity I couldn't bring more."
I added on my gauntlets, shin guards, and other thorough gear.
Each knife had been sharpened, and the blades were oiled and carefully wiped clean.
The blades gleamed with a polished shine.
"Are you planning to reflect the sunlight during the day?"
"Yes."
Frok, watching from the side, commented, and I answered indifferently.
It felt like a casual banter.
"Why aren't you answering me?"
Rem, on the side, grumbled.
I knew this couldn't be ignored.
If I let it slide, he'd probably start acting up, so I spoke up.
"I already did."
"When?"
"With no answer."
What was this nonsense?
Rem's face scrunched up.
I accepted his reaction without any issue.
It meant I ignored him.
"Ugh."
Rem didn't pursue it further.
If we argued, he'd end up losing.
That was something he had learned over time.
Whether we had a mission or not, it was part of everyday life.
I continued as usual.
Waking up in the morning, diving into training, and preparing for the departure in the evening.
It was all part of equipment management and packing various tools.
Seeing me like this, the frog became half-exasperated.
'Is he really a tough guy?'
Or maybe he was just slow.
He did all of this without hesitation.
Training, preparation—none of it was easy work.
No hesitation, no frustration.
Though sometimes, when rolling through isolation techniques, a bit of discomfort could be seen.
But after that discomfort, there was always a strange smile.
'Maybe he's just a pervert.'
That could be true.
He didn't seem to care about being unable to become a knight, and he wasn't discouraged or frustrated by it.
Having watched him for three months, I could tell his actions were sincere.
Which meant he was strange, no,
really
strange.
Her face lit up with curiosity.
His appearance was striking, and watching him was entertaining.
Where did this guy come from?
"He's mine."
Luagarne was sitting in the shade of the training area, watching.
The fairy commander approached her without her noticing and spoke.
The shadow of the fairy slightly crept into the shade, making it look slightly bloated.
"Who said that?"
Luagarne responded nonchalantly.
"Ahh."
Across from him, in another shadow, Esther bared her fangs.
She did that often.
I didn't care; it wasn't my problem.
Luagarne was driven by desires, interests, and stimulation.
The stimulation was right in front of her, so even if someone lightly poked her heart, she wouldn't kill them instantly—she was in a good mood.
Of course, since her heart was touched, she'd still kill them halfway.
In between training sessions, Enkrid never forgot his duties.
"Are you leaving for a mission? Four people? Including the frog?"
I reported to the battalion commander, and after some questioning, his approval came quickly.
"Nothing special."
That was all he added.
"So, how is it? Not being able to become a knight."
As Enkrid was about to leave, the battalion commander asked him.
Before giving a military salute, Enkrid answered casually.
"Yes, thank you for the gift."
Was there any malice in his gesture?
No, it wasn't.
Even if there was malice, it had become a good opportunity for him.
The unfulfilled dream he had... Or was it?
That didn't apply to Enkrid.
He had come this far chasing a broken and torn dream.
"Thank you?"
"Yes."
"I see."
After a brief exchange, I stepped back outside.
The fairy company commanderr had followed me.
I had seen her a lot recently.
Was she bored?
She looked at me with those eyes.
"Falling for me all over again?"
She was saying something ridiculous.
I turned away and said no.
If she wasn't going to train, she shouldn't have come with me.
She had stayed behind, sulking for no reason.
The season was slowly shifting toward summer, and Enkrid felt the change in the air.
He could sense the subtle wind direction.
The air changed in an instant, and in the brief moment, he adjusted the distance between himself and his opponent.
In that fleeting moment, everything learned from repeated experiences surfaced, settling within him.
He could see the future a moment ahead.
It wasn't something that happened by itself.
Focus was needed to support that moment.
'I'm no genius.'
Just a frog trapped in today's well.
Climbing out and rushing toward tomorrow's world.
And so, I struggled.
And so, I crawled forward.
Enkrid was unchanged.
He was as consistent as ever.
The traveler chasing a faded dream, the traveler walked on and on.
And so, I sharpened my skills, gathered my mind, and sharpened them again.
Understanding rhythm and adding strength to my swordsmanship.
Getting more used to the Heart of Monstrous Strength.
And that was the night before departure.
"They say there's been a real ruckus with the beast packs lately. Before, merchants used to travel in groups of ten, but now they won't even travel unless there's at least twenty of them. Do you think we can head out like this? Well, I suppose we could."
A sense of unease lingered, but it was quickly dismissed.
Krais, who had been watching Enkrid's face, let out a strange comment, almost as if testing something.
Hearing Krais' words, Enkrid went out for a sparring session, as usual.
His opponent was Rem, and they stood a good distance apart.
Enkrid drew his sword and aimed it at Rem, who spun his axes, flexing his wrists.
How many sparring matches had they had by now?
They had been fighting each other quite frequently lately.
"Today, you're going to make this more fun for me," Rem said, sounding like someone who was sulking for some reason.
Enkrid, half in the mood to help lift Rem's spirits, decided to engage.
If he was going to act like that, he might as well join in, rather than stand back.
But why was Rem staying so sulky?
Now, the season was transitioning into late spring, almost summer.
Enkrid felt the change in temperature, the subtle shift in the direction of the wind.
The air was different, and so were the brief moments it took to measure the distance between him and his opponent.
In that instant, a gap opened up.
At the same time, everything Enkrid had learned from the repeated sparring and training moments flooded his mind and settled into his body.
The things he had gradually picked up over time, the connecting lines between points, the circle he drew around himself as his sword's domain.
Rhythm, or tempo, timing of attacks, defenses, and counters.
By following his opponent's gestures and breath, the future—just a fraction of a second ahead—became clear to him.
Enkrid lowered his hand slightly. It was instinct, driven by the ability to see the future, and it felt like something he had to do.
The tip of his sword tilted forward.
Two axes froze in the sunlight.
He could see Rem's nose, his eyes, the sweat running down his forehead.
Enkrid lost himself in the moment, meeting his opponent's eyes, and instinctively found the most rational and quickest path to take.
The point where their domains met, the tempo and timing that were favorable to him.
His foot, in rhythm, lifted off the ground.
The sword cut through the sunlight, falling from above.
The axes moved.
The person wielding the axes moved as well.
A vague, blurry figure appeared.
To Enkrid's eyes, it seemed like a dark spirit or a ghost.
Nevertheless, the axe came flying toward him.
Screech!
A vision of his neck being severed flashed before him.
Just before the illusion touched him, his sword descended.
A heavy, thunderous blow carrying the weight of his sword form, slashing down.
Whoosh.
Did it hit?
No.
Was his neck cut?
No, it was unharmed.
The axe's strike was an illusion.
"...Huh? Did you actually master this, making people take things seriously?"
"Did you dodge it?"
As Enkrid turned around while speaking, he noticed a faint trace of blood on Rem's cheek.
He hadn't cut Rem, but it was a scratch, barely noticeable.
A strange feeling spread throughout his body, like the deep, resonating growl of a beast spreading from within.
Thinking back, this was the first time.
Not even Rem, Ragna, Audin, or Jaxen had ever gotten a scratch from his sword.
"That's right."
It felt like a small boundary had been broken.
A moment that could only be achieved by a genius...
No, I'm no genius.
Just a frog struggling inside a well.
And if I keep struggling like this, maybe...
Maybe I too can one day reach that sky outside.
Enkrid gripped his sword once again.
The night deepened, and the journey toward departure drew near.
Luagarne, watching from the sidelines, jumped up and clapped her hands together.
The sound of her smooth palm meeting sounded dull, but there was a distinct look of satisfaction on his face.
Enkrid couldn't easily continue speaking.
Was this a new experience for him?
No, he'd had similar moments before.
'Mustache.'
When he first faced him, when he was deeply immersed in Mitch Hurrier's teachings and had a moment of sharp focus, a certain limit to concentration was shattered.
Of course, now, it felt even stronger.
He had learned more, and practiced more.
As they say, the more you know, the more you see.
And so it seemed.
The more he knew, the more he could see.

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