Eternally Regressing Knight
Chapter 373 - Bad Fate in Order
When Ropord and his group arrived at the west, they found that the Merres Baron's coalition army had already blocked the castle gate.
'There are a lot.'
Even a quick glance made it clear that the enemy's numbers were substantial. There were even siege weapons visible.
In front of their troops, ten men stood, all looking formidable.
Their armament varied, but their presence was unmatched.
One of them was even a familiar face to Ropord.
"Deserter."
He was the one who had caused trouble in the knights' order and then fled.
The man turned to look at the castle wall, then spotted Ropord and grinned maliciously.
"Idiot."
Ropord felt a surge of discomfort as he saw the man mouthing the insult.
That man had once been a senior to Ropord and far more skilled. Although not quite at the level of a junior knight, he was ruthless and would stop at nothing in a life-or-death battle—one of the most dangerous opponents.
And he was with nine others who seemed equally impressive.
Behind them stood someone with a higher rank, it seemed.
He wore a helmet with a single, sharp horn. The same horned motif appeared on his shoulder pauldrons. Regardless of skill, his taste was as eccentric as his appearance.
The ten men at the front looked intimidating, but what about the army behind them? How could they be stopped?
It was a moment of overwhelming defeat.
"There's a lot of interesting ones here."
A beastwoman's voice was heard.
Then, a voice from a directionless swordsman also spoke.
"At least one of them seems decent. The rest... not so much."
Ropord was stunned. There was not a hint of concern or urgency in their voices.
"Open the gates. We are the Viscount Mernes's army, we've come to capture traitors!"
The enemy commander shouted. A face unfamiliar to Ropord, with neat features, and a helmet worn to the left side of his head. A sword hung at his waist, and in his hand, he held a shield, which reflected the sunlight and blinded Ropord's eyes.
The soldiers atop the castle wall trembled in fear.
If they faltered here, they would lose the battle before it even started.
'Willpower.'
He reminded himself. The castle walls existed. His resolve existed. They had to protect it.
Ropord took a deep breath and stepped forward.
"We can't open it! The Queen has not given such an order!"
He shouted, trying not to sound like a scared dog.
"Open it, then?"
The deserter squirmed and grinned as if to challenge them.
"...Move aside."
Ropord bit his teeth and muttered to himself.
Now was the time to stop the attackers.
Only ten of them, but their mere presence seemed to shake the soldiers on the wall.
But Ragna was not a commander in charge of everything.
He preferred using a sword over words.
And so, he decided to act.
Dunbakel was of the same mind.
With a swift motion, she slapped the blades of her sickles against her waist, making the decision clear.
Words were difficult for both of them, so it was time to start doing something else.
Immediately after Ragna left, Enkrid noticed a figure with one eye.
The horse seemed to be looking inward amidst the commotion.
Without hesitation, Enkrid spoke.
"Take me."
Weird-eyes was a friend. A simple request was enough. Enkrid was already mapping out the fastest way to the royal palace in his mind.
The quickest path to the palace.
It required horseback riding. The fastest route would be to gallop along the same path he had once traveled by carriage.
With this thought in mind, Enkrid spoke to the Weird-eyes.
The horse blinked once, then turned his body slightly.
It seemed to indicate permission, and as he moved, a sharp whistle sounded through the air.
Enkrid tilted his head back. The bolt shot past his face, missing by mere inches.
Over the wall, familiar faces appeared.
Though it was not yet sunset, a group of masked figures appeared. There were more than thirty of them.
The color and atmosphere of their attire reminded Enkrid of several encounters.
"Are you guys not tired of this?"
Enkrid asked, wondering why they had gone this far. Was it because of a contract? No, a mere contract wouldn't make someone risk their life like this. He could tell from just looking.
Mages and various assassins had already been dealt with, but this formidable force seemed to have put everything they had into this.
It was clear they were putting their lives on the line, just as much as he was.
"Are you tired of it? Or is this just an obligation?"
The one at the far left of the masked group spoke, his arms hanging far longer than the others.
Despite his odd posture, his arms weren't limp; they were just casually hanging by his side.
Among the group, one figure stood without a mask. He stood at the very center of the group, in the middle of the wall.
The rest were crouching or hunched over.
The person standing in the center was a man with white hair and a monocle, dressed properly in a shirt and jacket. He held a cane sword and tapped it against the ground of the wall before speaking.
"You were told to stab, but you didn't listen. Do you think the request was cheap?"
His gaze shifted to Enkrid's back, directed at Jaxen.
'So it was the one who mentioned the request to Jaxen.'
Enkrid didn't bother looking back.
Not rejecting the offer on the spot meant accepting it.
But he had broken it. He hadn't followed through. They had ordered him to kill, yet Enkrid was standing there perfectly unharmed.
"No, he kept his word. Therefore, you must tell him everything you know."
Enkrid stepped forward in place of Jaxen, his tone firm.
Jaxen lightly bit his lip and shifted his gaze sideways, clearly wanting to withdraw from the conversation. It seemed like he didn't want to hear any more.
"What's this nonsense? He's still alive!"
The white-haired cane swordsman was a key figure in the assassination alliance.
It was as if all the members of the alliance had gathered there.
The leader of the alliance remained hidden, observing from a distance, breathing calmly as he took in the situation.
Using deadly strikes disguised as regular assassins was her specialty.
"I stabbed him."
Jaxen answered with an air of certainty, without hesitation.
"What?"
"I stabbed him. Right here, in the spot. If you don't believe me, I could stab him again right now."
Enkrid pointed to his left arm. There was no wound now, only a faint scar left behind, but it was barely visible unless someone got close.
It had been protected, so there was no way to see it.
So what exactly was he talking about?
The female leader of the alliance pondered, a sudden suspicion creeping into her mind.
The white-haired assassin, who seemed to think similarly to the leader, asked.
"...You stabbed him?"
"You told me to stab him," Jaxen replied without taking a breath.
A brief silence hung in the air.
He had stabbed because he was told to, so the request had been fulfilled.
The fact that the target hadn't died was beyond his control. But he did get stabbed, and that was the truth, wasn't it?
Enkrid repeatedly pointed to his left arm with a look that conveyed his words more than his tone.
The annoyance was so palpable that the white-haired assassin's cheek trembled.
Some of the alliance leaders who understood what Enkrid meant were dumbfounded, while others seethed with anger.
This brat was mocking them, belittling them.
Jaxen sighed quietly behind them, making sure no one heard.
So he's really doing this.
"You told me to stab him, so I did."
"No, that's not what it meant."
It was from the earlier conversation during their sparring match. No one was foolish enough to misunderstand that.
Jaxen smiled lightly, responding.
"Yeah, you told me to stab him."
He simply repeated the same words, disregarding anyone else's interpretation. It was clear he was angry.
Was it because they tried to pull a trick on him?
He was indeed a strange person.
But instead of directly confronting it, he returned the irritation in a soft and indirect manner.
"I hurt. It was painful."
As Enkrid spoke, his opponent reacted.
"This bastard is really insane."
The white-haired assassin clicked his tongue.
Jaxen felt a bit embarrassed. There were things that could be argued and things that couldn't be. This was ignoring the coded meaning and context.
Of course, Enkrid wasn't really trying to argue.
It was purely to provoke and rile up his opponent, showing how annoyed he was.
That's when the tension broke.
Some assassins, who had been listening, couldn't help but mutter in confusion, wondering what nonsense this was.
Enkrid's hand moved faster than his eyes. As the word "insane" left his opponent's mouth, Enkrid's hand shot forward.
At the same time, the sound of a whistle and the word "really?" overlapped.
Enkrid extended both of his hands and threw two whistle daggers.
The daggers hit the foreheads of two assassins with precision.
Thunk!
The two assassins fell backward, the thud of their bodies hitting the ground barely audible before Enkrid and Jaxen moved.
"You go ahead," Jaxen said, nodding.
Enkrid gave a small nod in response. The two of them split and moved in different directions. As Jaxen moved away, he flipped his hooded robe and adjusted his belt, throwing his body into the shadows near the wall.
Enkrid gave him a quick glance and, taking a deep breath, shouted.
"Everyone, come at me!"
With that shout, Enkrid stomped his left foot on the ground.
Boom!
The shockwave from his powerful stomp cracked the ground beneath him.
The force was enough to astonish the assassins.
With that roar and the shockwave, all the assassins on the wall turned their attention to Enkrid.
The provocation had worked, drawing their focus.
What was this guy doing?
The assassins, however, were not easily intimidated.
Rather than backing down, one of the more hot-headed assassins pulled out a bottle containing a deadly poison, "Ten Breaths."
The poison was a modified concoction that would release green smoke when broken, and one breath of it would be fatal.
The assassin threw the bottle back with a snap of his hand.
But just as he did, he felt a searing heat in his throat.
The pain was followed by an overwhelming heat that spread throughout his body, and his vision blurred.
The world turned black, and the sound of rushing water filled his ears.
He had died.
Jaxen, concealed in the shadows, had acted swiftly.
His earlier use of the magical artifact had been key. The same artifact he had obtained when raiding the Black Knife Bandits' village.
The robe blocked the flow of life energy, and the belt muffled sound.
After silencing his presence, Jaxen had taken advantage of the assassin's moment of distraction, stabbing him in the neck with a longsword.
When the tip of the sword pierced through the assassin's neck, blood poured from the wound, and four other assassins quickly reacted, backing away.
At the same time, poisoned darts flew through the air.
One dart struck where Jaxen had just been standing, but Jaxen was already gone, hiding against the wall.
"Find him!"
The white-haired assassin shouted. The moment he vanished, he couldn't track him.
Jaxen, unseen, launched three more silent throwing blades, hitting two assassins in the throats, while one deflected the attack with his long arms.
The assassin's eyes gleamed with an unnatural light. It was a form of magic—his special magical eyes.
"There!" he shouted, pointing directly at Jaxen, who had darted beneath the wall.
However, Jaxen continued to stay hidden, using the wall to shield himself from their sight.
He didn't mind being spotted. He leapt up to strike from above with his longsword, swinging it wide in a circular motion.
To the assassins above, it must have felt like a guillotine was coming down on them.
The sword swished through the air, slicing through the arm of the assassin holding a crossbow.
Thwack!
Though Jaxen hadn't put much force into the swing, the blow severed the assassin's wrist with a single strike.
The assassin, having been in the midst of aiming his crossbow at Enkrid, let out a scream.
"Over there!"
Another assassin shouted.
Then, a third assassin jumped down from the wall, throwing a dagger.
The sound of the whistle echoed.
Jaxen stopped running, swiftly evading the dagger.
It embedded itself into the stone wall where he had just been.
Jaxen grabbed the dagger as he ran, throwing it back at the assassins.
One of them dodged it, while another blocked it with a shield.
It was unusual to see an assassin with a shield, but being prepared for any situation was an essential skill for any assassin.
'These daggers won't work so easily,' Jaxen thought, as he climbed up the unguarded wall where the assassins had left a gap.
He moved with the same agility as Esther when climbing the walls.
Once on top, he surveyed the area and called out.
"If you don't want to die, don't chase me."
Then, he dropped down to the other side and began running again.
"If you let your guard down, you'll pay the price."
"That's why we came together."
The leaders of the assassin alliance exchanged words as they watched.
One of the assassins, with his arms dangling, had been looking for Enkrid but found that he had already disappeared. He was a swift one. Or perhaps it had been part of the plan all along.
The results were the product of teamwork.
They had trained together every day, honing their skills.
This kind of coordination was second nature to them.
"First, that one."
The white-haired assassin said, pointing to the direction Jaxen had gone. Their original mission was to deal with the assassin from Geor's Dagger.
Enkrid's journey to the palace wouldn't change things.
There, the real monsters waited.

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