Eternally Regressing Knight
Chapter 316 - 316 - Turmoil, Ignorance, Despair
The ones chasing Enkrid gave up.
The commander at the front could not speak.
The adjutant beside him spoke instead.
"We've lost him."
There was nothing to be done.
They had thrown the rope, thinking it would be the last chance, but he broke it with sheer strength and escaped.
An extraordinary power.
That wasn't all.
He didn't even seem to get tired, continuing to run forward, always forward.
The madman never stopped to rest.
He didn't stop his feet.
Watching that, they couldn't even think of catching up.
The target never rested, always moving, relentlessly.
Eventually, the commands from the commander became fewer, and his steps stopped.
Enkrid had completely escaped the trap laid by Abnaier.
Even the Gray Dogs stopped.
The commander of the Gray Dogs stared vacantly at the vanished traces of the man.
Not only had they crossed the encirclement, but they had also entered the enemy's territory.
If they pursued now, they would be countered.
Thus, it was over.
'Abnaier, Abnaier.'
The commander of the Gray Dogs repeated the name of the one who had vowed to take full responsibility.
Hadn't he said that he didn't mind if all the soldiers died just to capture that one man?
"Right, call me an idiot in the future.
Call me a fool who sacrificed a thousand soldiers just to capture one elite soldier!"
He recalled Abnaier's impassioned speech.
Had they all died, what would he have said then?
But not even half of his forces had died.
No, only a very small number had been killed.
Two shamans, two magicians, a few mercenaries, and two swordsmen from the Hurrier family.
The number of regular soldiers lost was small.
The enemy had evaded them.
A retreat path that seemed impossible, one that no one would ever believe if told.
The commander of the Gray Dogs acknowledged it.
'He can't be caught.'
Only the report remained.
Did Abnaier truly think that sacrificing a thousand soldiers would be worth catching that man?
Abnaier couldn't even become a failure.
He had been denied that opportunity.
Abnaier acknowledged that something had gone wrong with Galah and the Knight.
"They're not coming."
As he looked toward the distant battlefield, his adjutant Nilf lowered her head.
With this, Abnaier had bet everything.
It was as if he had gambled with the King of the Kingdom himself.
The end was approaching.
"What about those who said they were confident in assassinations?"
Even those who had worked tirelessly under the cover of darkness.
"They're not responding.
They've either fled, or..."
"You mean, they've been taken out."
Flee? They could not escape.
The moment Abnaier even lifted a finger, their entire clan would be doomed.
In other words, they had been taken out.
By whom?
It was unbelievable.
It was a complete defeat.
"Hahahaha."
Abnaier laughed.
If he didn't feel a sense of emptiness, then he wouldn't be human.
"Is the world against me?
Has the goddess of fortune turned her back on me?
Or did I miss something?
What did I miss?"
He muttered to himself.
The calm words he spoke felt like daggers he was plunging into himself.
What Abnaier didn't know, Nilf couldn't have known either.
Nilf kept silent.
They were inside the command tent.
Only the two of them remained.
Abnaier sat down in a chair by the stove and lowered his head.
The hot flames scorched a few strands of his hair.
Crackling sounds came from the fire as embers jumped from the stove.
Some of the embers even landed on Abnaier's face, but he didn't even flinch, lost in his thoughts.
He kept pondering.
Should he curse everything for not making sense?
Or should he accept it?
What should he accept?
What was there to accept?
Was it that luck hadn't been on his side?
Or how had they escaped?
What had happened to Galah and the Junior Knight?
He had sent them to intercept.
It was his second plan to capture the elite soldiers.
But that plan was cut short before it could even begin.
He had sent them to capture a few conspicuous ones from the enemy's camp and return.
But had they been captured in turn?
Could it be them?
What happened to Ayada?
What about the mage who grasped the river?
And what of the assassination clan? What had happened to them?
They had been assigned to kill the enemy commander, but there had been no disturbances in the enemy camp.
They had disappeared without a sound.
How could that be?
'Did they send a knight from Naurilia?'
"Nilf!"
Without realizing it, he spoke.
"Was it a knight? A red cloak? Cyprus?"
He shouted the names of those infamous in Aspen, but it was meaningless.
The most important task Nilf had was to monitor the inside of Naurilia.
They couldn't send knights now.
That was the conclusion.
"No."
Nilf's voice lowered to almost nothing.
Abnaier closed his mouth again.
His mind continued to explore possibilities and search, but would there be any answers?
If one didn't know that Enkrid was repeating today, it would be impossible to understand what was happening.
"I've lost."
A clean defeat.
When considering the possibilities, the enemy could do too many things.
Perhaps during the fight, they grew to the level of knights, or maybe they were knights from the beginning without anyone knowing.
In that case, it was inevitable that something had happened to Galaph and the knight.
The outcome of the situation on their side was clear.
The assassination clan was taken out in turn.
Could it be that the fairies were involved?
He had heard there were fairy warriors among the enemy.
However, even if they were fairies, it couldn't have been an easy task.
But, let's assume they had hidden skills.
Then there was Enkrid—Enkrid, Enkrid.
Enkrid was the one who slipped away.
That side was truly beyond comprehension.
What kind of person could do that?
Maybe it was sheer luck.
But if not...
"A genius of intuitive judgment."
A commander who acts with his senses, not his head.
He had heard of such people.
He never thought there could be such a person.
Intuition is the sum of experience.
You cannot discuss tactics purely with instinct.
You can hope for luck by sensing the flow of military morale once or twice, but in general, you need knowledge to develop intuition.
Only then can your instincts be the basis for judgment.
Thus, experience must back up intuition before one can sense danger.
But the enemy was a late-blooming genius, not a commander who had spent his life on the battlefield.
Even an experienced veteran couldn't do this.
Not even a veteran who had fought a hundred battles could have slipped away.
Yet, he was missed.
"I can't just let him go, can I?" he murmured.
He had used every means available, but there was still something left to gain by risking his own life.
"Are you going to use it?" Nilf asked knowingly, and he nodded in understanding.
"I have to finish what I started."
By bringing in mages and junior knights, had unexpectedly acquired new allies.
However, using them meant admitting his defeat.
Once he returned to the empire, he would face considerable criticism.
He might even lose his position.
It would be a miracle if he didn't face execution.
But even so, he couldn't let it end in defeat.
Abnaier stepped outside.
"I don't think I've ever lost so thoroughly before."
None of his plans had come to fruition.
What were his original plans?
The top priority had been to reduce the enemy's main forces, represented by elite troops.
The first target was Enkrid, and the second was his subordinate forces.
"I never thought Ayada would fail."
Her eyes were special.
In some ways, they were even better at reading talent than the Frook's ability assessment.
Eyes imbued with 'Will' could recognize an opponent's strength at a glance.
Thanks to this, Ayada had earned the nickname "The One Who Never Fights Losing Battles."
She herself liked to walk around with the title of "the most beautiful woman in Aspen," but...
"How could Ayada have failed?"
It didn't make sense, but he had to force himself to understand.
He couldn't stop here.
Ayada the knight, always finds and kills her target.
Galaph had been kept as a trump card for later.
Enkrid should have been captured and killed.
That had been the primary goal.
And this wasn't the end.
There had been further plans.
Throwing away a thousand soldiers to kill a single enemy wasn't the conclusion he had envisioned.
There had also been secondary objectives.
"It's regrettable, so regrettable."
With this battle, Aspen could have at least gained the Green Pearl.
If things had gone as planned, it could have happened.
After capturing the enemy's elite forces, he had plans for what to do next, but now those plans were useless.
What remained was either stubbornness or lingering attachment.
He didn't know which.
Abnaier gritted his teeth.
"Is that sprained?"
At Enkrid's question, Ragna raised his arm, which was wrapped with a torn piece of clothing.
"It's sprained," Ragna replied nonchalantly.
Was that all it took?
Was it really that simple?
Even though Ragna clearly had an injury that seemed close to a serious wound, he said it as though it was nothing.
Without proper treatment, his arm would be unusable.
Of course, Enkrid wasn't in a normal state either.
"My whole body is sprained too," he said, inspecting his own body.
Ragna didn't even smile.
Esther, who was below them, made a curious sound, almost a growl.
Enkrid made a half-hearted joke and turned around.
There were no traces of the ones that had been chasing them.
Had they escaped?
It seemed so.
The ominous feeling that had loomed over them earlier and the sense of impending doom were completely gone.
Now, what should they do?
Should they relax?
Perhaps it was time to.
"Yaaaaa!"
A cry, almost like a cheer, came from afar.
It was a loud female voice.
When Enkrid squinted his eyes, he saw Dunbakel rushing toward them.
Dunbakel was also covered in blood, her white fur stained red, making her look like a dark-red beast.
Her fur was now a mixture of white and dark red, patchy like a spotted cat.
'She looks like a spotted cat.'
Enkrid had an unimportant thought.
She came charging toward them.
Behind her, the movement of their own forces could also be seen.
It was thanks to Krais not being able to hold back and sending troops.
"My fiancé, are you going to do this every time I take my eyes off of you?"
Shinar came from behind Dunbakel.
She lightly tapped the ground and leaped forward, moving quickly, characteristic of the light movements of a fairy.
As she approached, she spoke, and only then did Enkrid realize.
'Tomorrow.'
Today was drawing to a close.
The long sun cast a shadow stretching down the hill.
The light that had illuminated everything was fading beyond the western horizon.
It was the time when the orange-hued sunset began to speak of a new day, different from the previous one.
Enkrid basked in that light.
He had survived, fought, and was now ready to greet tomorrow.
"Let's go back."
Enkrid spoke, but no one knew what was going on with him.
They couldn't know the details.
However, the regiment soldiers had seen Enkrid fighting.
It was known that he had charged into the midst of the enemy alone, swinging his sword like a madman.
To someone trapped in the curse of repeating today, it was something from long ago, yet to those around him, it had only happened a day or two before.
Aaaaaah!
The roar tore through the air.
It was a song for the hero who had pierced through the enemy's lines and returned alive.
"What kills me!"
"Makes me stronger!"
"Death!"
Even the trivial slogans echoed.
To Enkrid, all of it felt distant.
The sounds seemed to fade away.
As he wondered why, his body began to tilt.
Someone came to support him.
Unexpectedly, Ragna placed his shoulder under Enkrid's.
"Idiot."
Ragna muttered to Enkrid.
With the sunset behind them, both wounded men staggered.
Ragna wasn't in any condition to walk properly either.
Making it this far was a feat in itself.
"Grrr."
Esther, who was behind them, shook her head.
It seemed like she was calling them idiots.
"Alright."
Dunbakel stepped forward.
She was just as exhausted.
There were so many skilled fighters on the enemy side.
She hadn't been in a life-or-death situation, but she was physically drained.
However, she wasn't about to collapse from exhaustion.
Dunbakel lifted Enkrid up.
The soft, beast-like fur from her body cradled Enkrid as she lifted him.
"Wow, you're soft."
Enkrid muttered through his haze.
Indeed, she was soft.
"Did you take some medicine or something while fighting?"
Dunbakel grumbled.
Enkrid glanced back again.
The enemy behind the hill wasn't getting any closer.
"I could carry him too."
Shinar, who was next to them, spoke, but Dunbakel ignored her and kept moving forward.
Ragna, who had tried to help, finally collapsed.
Several soldiers took care of Ragna.
It was unbelievable that he had made it this far.
There was hardly a part of him that wasn't injured.
Aaaaah?
The cheering quickly died down.
They weren't chasing after the enemy, but seeing the two of them walk back, it was a miracle they were still moving.
Among the cheering, some sharp-eyed soldiers stepped forward.
"Clear the path!"
"Inside!"
"Medics!"
The soldiers scattered, doing their tasks.
The commanders moved into action.
Enkrid and Ragna entered the unit.
Esther, following behind them, took one look at Enkrid's condition and shook her head in silence.
It looked as though he had crossed dozens of life-and-death situations.
Although Ragna appeared to be more injured on the outside, in reality, Enkrid was in a much worse state.
There were broken or dislocated bones, showing just how much he had pushed himself.
Ragna wasn't in perfect condition, but...
Esther had little interest in Ragna.
By the time the sunset passed and the evening arrived, they could receive treatment within the unit, and Enkrid was attended to by Garrett, whose eyes sparkled with energy.
Though it was called medical care, its true purpose seemed to be elsewhere.
"You didn't hurt your mouth, huh?"
Garrett was probably hoping to hear some interesting stories.
Shinar, overhearing, gave him a pointed look.
"I think you need to learn how to respect the wounded who led the victory in battle."
It seemed like he was about to hit Garrett if he kept pushing it.
Garrett, quick to pick up on the mood, said, "Nuart, I messed up, didn't I?"
Nuart, always there to back him up, immediately responded, "Yes, and if it goes on, my superior might change."
"Why would it change?"
"If you die, it'll change."
"Let's go."
Were they keeping him around just to entertain them?
Enkrid, wrapped in bandages, lay back and watched the two chatter away.
"Tell me later."
Garrett said as he left.
"Focus on your treatment."
Shinar, seemingly lost in thought, stood by.
"Not going? I'm sleepy."
"Sleep. Let me watch you sleep."
Enkrid hadn't yet grown used to the fairy's humor.
Slowly, Enkrid let go of his consciousness.
He returned to the camp, receiving cheers, though his memories of the events were fragmented.
He had pushed his body that far.
Finally, he entered the medical tent, ate a little food, had ointments and herbs applied, and lay down.
His whole body felt like it was burning up.
If he wasn't tough, it would have been hard to even survive.
Enkrid fell asleep.
When he closed his eyes, he saw a black river.
A ferryman.
"The first is turmoil, the second is ignorance, and the third is despair."
Enkrid couldn't understand what that meant.
The ferryman today was much more somber than usual, and Enkrid himself was so exhausted that his mouth couldn't move, even in his dreams.

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