Eternally Regressing Knight
Chapter 338 - 338 - The Fourth Blade: Capturing Blade
What is the spontaneity of thought behind the fourth blade?
It is akin to the acceleration of thinking.
By absorbing the scattered information around and selecting the most efficient and rational course of action, the mind discards unnecessary data, identifies what is crucial, and hones in on it. This required a sharpness of thought.
As this process sped up, Enkrid's ability to envision the flow of combat became unparalleled.
In this regard, Enkrid found greater joy in mastering these skills than in learning other forms of swordsmanship.
The Snake Blade, which bent and deflected with a soft touch, carried an essential truth—no matter how gentle, a blade is still a blade.
Then there was The Flowing Sword. Its essence lay in the art of countering, a swordsmanship with meaning only when the deflective motion was perfected.
Mastering this brought immense satisfaction.
Then, there was the Thunder Fang.
How could the process of harnessing
Will
for a split-second burst of speed not be exhilarating?
The journey of learning was always a source of joy.
And the crushing blade?
Its origins lay in enduring the strikes of a knight's sword, prompted by Ragna's question:
How do you cleave lightning?
The answer emerged through the pursuit of a solution: face lightning directly and evade it before it struck.
In other words, act before the opponent swung their sword.
This way, the blade extended would serve as a lightning rod.
While it might not cut lightning itself, it could redirect it.
Enkrid had proven this truth.
After all, a knight's sword was no less formidable than a force of nature.
The snake, the lightning, the pressing—though the methods of acquiring each were distinct, the exhilaration they brought was similar.
These were techniques honed for a singular purpose.
In this sense, the precise and disciplined
Capturing Blade
style stood apart.
It is a blade where techniques converge.
The act of calculation and the stimulation of thought sparked an unprecedented focus.
Where the previous techniques had been like dots painted on a canvas, the new blade was a seamless line connecting them.
Amid the horde of ghouls charging toward him, Enkrid perceived the intent hidden between their movements.
Infusing the
Capturing Blade
with utmost concentration allowed him to glimpse moments ahead, as though he could see the immediate future.
To counter what he saw, he used the serpent blade.
If he sought to dominate the opponent, he crushed them.
And to break the enemy's intentions entirely, he struck first.
"Ah," Enkrid marveled internally.
The
Capturing Blade
was one of precision and calculation, elevated by technique.
Yet, even after creating it, he felt something was missing.
Now, he knew what that was.
"To recognize what's lacking is the key to improvement," he recalled the advice of a certain mercenary.
And so, Enkrid did just that.
He recognized.
He confronted.
What was missing?
The form was already in place; what it needed now was substance.
The serpent blade possessed the substance of a deflective motion.
The lightning thrust required full-body preparation to pierce a single point.
The crushing blade carried the weight of intimidation.
Likewise, the
Capturing Blade
needed its essence.
This essence didn't have to be another sword technique.
It didn't even have to be something entirely new.
What mattered was that it had substance.
"That's it."
The realization brought joy.
And with that joy came an exhilaration that filled his entire being.
What could bring greater satisfaction?
Under a starless, pitch-black sky, he wielded his sword to glimpse starlight.
Though countless days had passed without seeing that light, Enkrid felt no weariness.
He simply swung his blade.
Even while treading a pathless terrain with no end in sight, he kept moving.
He walked.
And walked some more.
Forgetting fatigue, he advanced.
And so, he wielded his blade.
When cursed with the burden of today, how had he reacted?
There was no need to argue with the despairing ferryman.
He held no fear of living through today again.
And so, he swung his blade once more.
With this, how could it not feel exhilarating?
Now, with the starlight visible, the path clear, and the day no longer repeating, the moment of realization came.
He was overcome with profound joy.
"Ah, so elated."
"At least stop drooling, brother," Audin quipped.
"Wandering Teresa offers her assistance."
"There's no room for you to butt in," Rem interjected.
From Rem to others, comments were added one by one, while Shinar remained silent, entirely engrossed in watching.
That man's sword was evolving in real-time.
The fairy's keen senses absorbed every change with sharp precision.
Sensing the transformation, Shinar heightened her focus further, though it would be imperceptible to any observer.
It would appear as though she was merely watching.
In truth, Shinar was utilizing the fairy's innate sense to learn and adapt.
Meanwhile, Enkrid discarded irrelevant information from the words floating around him.
Listening to their chatter was unnecessary right now.
The ghoul's footsteps were what mattered.
Enkrid categorized what he heard, choosing only what was relevant.
The battle raged on, rhythm dictated by the clash of steel and growls of foes.
Enkrid wielded his silver blade with purpose, driving forward a rhythm that captivated allies and decimated foes.
Atop a branch, an unusual ghoul prepared to strike, its elongated claws poised to rend flesh.
But before it could act, Enkrid's blade cut a precise arc, splitting it cleanly.
As his comrades joined the fray, the forest resounded with the chaos of battle.
Amid the bloodshed, a grim joy united them all—each strike, each step, a testament to their shared purpose.
"Oh,"
came a small exclamation from Rem.
Dunbakel raised her head slightly, sensing something stirring in her instincts.
Though Rem and Audin didn't bother to look up, both Dunbakel and Teresa followed suit, glancing upward halfway.
There was something there.
Even Teresa felt a disquieting sensation.
Yet Enkrid remained focused, swinging his two swords with precision.
A series of rhythmic sounds emerged, compelling one to unconsciously follow the beat.
"Above—"
Teresa's shout burst out instinctively but abruptly halted.
Swish!
Something dropped from above.
It was a ghoul, but smaller by half than usual.
Its body was the same gray hue, but its right arm was unnaturally long. Its claws, far longer and sharper than an ordinary ghoul's, resembled four dagger-like spikes.
The creature vanished as quickly as it appeared, leaving only an afterimage as it drove its claw-like spikes downward.
From the branch above, it pounced.
Enkrid, who had been maintaining a precise rhythm with his silver longsword, broke that rhythm for the first time. He swung half a beat faster, drawing a perfect vertical circle around his head.
Slash!
The blade bisected the strange ghoul diagonally as it rushed toward him.
From its head to its torso and through its thighs, a silver line split its body.
At the same time, Enkrid sidestepped fluidly, dodging in tandem with his swing.
Even the sound of his feet hitting the ground as he leaped back fit flawlessly into the rhythm.
"He already knew."
Teresa closed her mouth.
He had noticed before she did.
Come to think of it, even Rem and Audin seemed aware, and it was as if they also knew that their leader had already realized it.
So, she held her tongue.
Enkrid, far from losing himself in exhilaration or drooling with abandon, calculated and recalculated. Yet he also realized that it wasn't necessary to limit himself to calculations alone.
"What if calculations fail?"
Then he could rely on his instincts.
And he had the means to back those instincts.
Layering intent over his sense of evasion would suffice.
More than twenty ghouls charged at him, and the ambush from above was a deadly dagger.
Had he been an ordinary soldier, it would have meant certain death.
The fact that ghouls used diversionary tactics might overwhelm regular folk, but neither Enkrid nor his companions were ordinary by any means.
As they watched him fight, Dunbakel finally burst out.
"I can't hold back any longer!"
The beastkin's keen sense of smell picked up the scent of hidden ghouls within the forest.
She charged to Enkrid's left.
"Aren't you going to stop her?"
Teresa asked, her tone calm but tinged with an inexplicable urgency.
Enkrid answered by splitting the last ghoul's head with a blade swung deliberately two beats slower.
Thwack!
Its skull cap flew into the air.
"Stop what?"
Enkrid's voice followed.
"Did you think I planned to handle everything on my own?"
The assumption was wrong. While it might have seemed that Enkrid claimed all the ghouls as his prey, he had no such intent. He was merely lost in the exhilaration of battle. Now, that exhilaration was giving way to satisfaction.
Dunbakel's rampage? Whether anticipated or not, it didn't matter to him.
"More are coming," Shinar remarked.
The sharp senses of the fairy pierced through the oppressive atmosphere of the forest, detecting enemies before Enkrid did. In terms of reconnaissance, her ability was unmatched, even among their skilled group.
"Then," Teresa stepped forward, unable to ignore the blood rushing in her veins. Was it the giant blood coursing through her or the fire of her own identity as Teresa? It wasn't a question she could answer now. She chose to disregard it.
As a massive tree blocked her view, Teresa swung her sword without hesitation.
Wham!
The blade lodged halfway into the tree, its dense structure tougher than she anticipated. Compressed and sturdy, though not quite metallic, it demanded more strength.
"Hup."
With a forceful grunt, her muscles tensed, and the blade split the tree clean through. As it teetered forward, Teresa struck it with her shield, redirecting its fall toward the approaching horde of ghouls.
Boom!
The enormous tree crashed into the horde's path, scattering them.
"The Lord grants you an opportunity for repentance under His gaze," Teresa intoned, her words sounding more like a hymn than a taunt.
"And we offer you a chance to reflect beneath His mercy," Audin added, clearly amused by her prayer.
Teresa, smiling wide, revealed sharp fangs—physical proof of the hybrid blood she had honed through training. Her arms moved like windmills, her sword and shield becoming an unrelenting storm. Ghouls were smashed, broken, and cleaved apart with each swing.
"Ha-ha-ha!" Teresa's laughter rang out, echoing through the forest.
"Wasn't this supposed to be a stealth mission?"
"If the gray ghoul hears that laughter and decides to face us, good. If it flees, even better," Enkrid replied to Rem's bemused comment.
He wasn't wrong. A direct confrontation would save them the time of searching. If the enemy retreated, they wouldn't have to fight in a location of its choosing.
"Fair enough," Rem nodded. He wasn't fond of overthinking, but that didn't mean he lacked understanding.
"Things rarely go exactly as our brother leader plans," Audin chuckled behind them, his tone as relaxed as ever.
True enough. Dunbakel's target was teeming with ghouls similar to the nimble, clawed assassin they had encountered earlier. Meanwhile, Teresa faced ghouls that were nearly twice the size of a standard one, their gray flesh tougher and more resilient.
"Normally, it takes two or three spearmen to handle a single ghoul," Enkrid mused.
But the creatures in this forest were even more challenging. Their earlier coordinated ambush alone could have decimated any ordinary unit. Enkrid and his group weren't a knightly order, but their combat prowess rivaled one.
"At least it's not boring," Enkrid remarked.
"Agreed," Rem nodded again.
Finally stepping into the fray himself, Rem pulled out his sling, spinning it overhead.
Whoosh!
From the shadows, more ghouls emerged—some standard, others command-grade, and even a unique one with glowing yellow eyes.
Thwack!
Thwack!
Thwack!
Rem's stones struck true, shattering ghoul skulls one by one. Though his sling broke after a few volleys, the damage had been done.
Enkrid, however, was restless. A subtle unease gnawed at him.
A trap?
It was a gut feeling, but it felt right.
Shinar approached, her expression mirroring his thoughts. "I don't like this... fiancé."
She never failed to use that title. Ignoring it, Enkrid nodded. "This way."
Both her fairy intuition and his instincts pointed in the same direction—toward the heart of their enemy's domain.
As they moved, Enkrid noticed something unsettling.
"They're clearing a path," he muttered.
The enemy's intent was evident. The weaker ghouls—still formidable by ordinary standards—seemed to guide them deliberately, creating an open path. It was subtle but clear to those paying attention.
"Pathetic," Rem grumbled. "Really."
"Our ghoul brothers seem eager for a reunion with their Maker," Audin quipped, issuing a quiet death sentence.
Enkrid said nothing, continuing forward. Soon, they reached their destination—a clearing.
Surrounding them, over a hundred pairs of yellow eyes glinted in the shadows.

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