Eternally Regressing Knight
Chapter 346 - 346 – A Roaring Laugh
The queen of Naurilia has no children.
This, of course, means there is no heir.
So, who should be the next king?
Why hasn't the queen borne any children?
This vacuum has naturally caused contenders for the throne to emerge from all corners.
The queen's weak central authority is perhaps the most significant factor.
This has led to figures like Count Molsan proclaiming themselves kings of remote regions.
Within the capital, there are those vying to become the queen's consort.
Some foreign envoys have even offered to send their princes to stake a claim.
In other words, many covet the throne.
Krang was one of them.
Krais hadn't met all the contenders for the throne, but comparing Krang to Count Molsan alone was enough.
Krang was easily the most dangerous pretender to the throne at present.
And from that, Krais came to a conclusion.
"His measure is different."
Enkrid felt similarly.
Even when compared to Count Molsan.
While merely intuition, it was evident that Count Molsan's ambitions stopped at the throne.
His goal was the crown, nothing more.
But Krang was different.
The royal bastard wasn't merely looking at the throne. He was looking beyond it.
"He's confronting the problems of this kingdom head-on."
While Count Molsan might have plans for the kingdom after seizing power,
the difference lay in priorities.
What comes first: the throne, or what must be done?
Why does one strive?
What is the ultimate goal?
Under the gentle sunlight, vines twisted around the wall of the barracks to the right. Green moss and the vibrant life within the vines thrived in the cracks.
It was spring, and the days were gradually warming.
But it wasn't yet warm enough to sweat from walking.
Amid this tranquil sunlight, the man who had captivated everyone's attention let out a small chuckle.
"That's why I really didn't want to do it."
His final remark carried a tinge of humor.
"Is that so?"
"Don't you agree? Have you never not wanted to do something? Never felt tired of the path you're walking? Never questioned whether you had to take this road?"
Enkrid turned Krang's words over in his mind.
No, he hadn't. He had never grown weary or questioned it. Not once.
Wielding his sword brought him joy.
The path it paved was exciting.
Every moment of becoming a knight was euphoric.
Even as Krang's words neared jest, his unique atmosphere remained intact.
His eyes locked onto Enkrid's.
In that moment, Enkrid felt as though everything around them disappeared, leaving only the two of them.
"Could you truly say you've never suffered?"
That was the question Krang's gaze seemed to pose.
Enkrid felt compelled to agree. There was no force, no pressure, but the atmosphere demanded it.
This was Krang's peculiar presence. Within it, Enkrid became a sword, firm and unyielding.
Drawing upon his inner resolve, he spoke without hesitation.
"Not at all."
Enkrid's reply wiped the smile from Krang's face.
The man's blue eyes studied Enkrid intently, his expression neutral.
It was the kind of moment one might savor, like holding a sip of tea and appreciating its flavor before swallowing.
And then, Krang burst out laughing.
"Pahahahaha!"
He laughed uproariously, throwing his head back as his laughter rang out freely.
Krang's escort had never seen his lord laugh like this.
Laughing so hard he tipped his head back, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.
It was strange, unfamiliar, and incomprehensible.
Given his life until now, it seemed miraculous he could laugh so freely.
Worrying about poison to the point of preparing his own meals was a minor concern.
Krang lived under constant threat of assassination.
Identifying the culprits behind such attempts was an unending struggle.
He had to dodge danger again and again while also building his power. He had to turn luck into his ally.
"Why should I support you?"
A noble had once posed this question, and the escort had silently agreed. What was there to trust?
"Did trust and faith guide your actions?"
With a few words and his natural charm, Krang turned the situation around.
He charmed others, changed the circumstances, but always maintained his boundaries.
Some lines could not be crossed. He adhered to his principles. That was the life he chose.
Harsh. Incredibly harsh.
But that harshness made him shine.
To shine is to capture attention, captivate, and stand out wherever you go.
Is that why a stone that scatters vivid colors is valued more than food, drink, or clothing?
That noble who questioned him became one of Krang's most steadfast supporters.
"How can you achieve your desires by only walking the righteous path?"
A man called a sage had once asked.
Krang had answered,
"Occasionally, you may step into the mud, and the dirt on your boots might soil the floor. But can I allow those who live with me to see that and scowl in disgust? Of course not."
The sage, instead of countering, fell into deep thought at Krang's words.
"You're right," the sage eventually said.
"And so are you," Krang replied.
The two became close confidants.
The escort had witnessed it all.
He knew the years they'd endured.
That's why Krang's laughter felt so foreign.
To see his master laugh so earnestly, from the heart, was astonishing.
"Ah, so it's true. You really haven't," Krang said, wiping the tears from his eyes with his finger.
He had laughed so hard, tears had fallen.
"Indeed. I haven't," Enkrid replied calmly.
Enkrid neither asked why Krang laughed nor showed any confusion. He simply answered.
The dialogue between the lord and the black-haired man continued without the radiance of a unique atmosphere. Only a few trivial words were exchanged.
"Why did you charge into enemy lines alone back then?"
"I didn't charge. I intended to strike and retreat but got bogged down."
It was the story of being trapped in a trap set by the strategist Abnaier.
"Wouldn't it have been easier if you'd led your troops?"
The question wasn't to criticize but to reflect on past events to avoid repeating similar mistakes in the future.
Watching from the side, Krais thought Krang's approach was wise. There was always something to learn, even from the battlefield.
Krang listened, not to nitpick, but with a sincere attitude of understanding—similar to how Enkrid absorbed the words of others.
"If I had brought my troops, the losses would have been catastrophic."
Enkrid had survived because it was just him—dying and fighting his way out. If he'd led a unit, they would have all perished, or at least been half-destroyed.
In hindsight, his decision had been the correct one.
"But you didn't know that at the time."
Krang pressed further.
"I thought attacking the enemy's front alone would draw enough attention to allow our forces greater freedom of movement."
"A battle for the elite few, then."
To an observer, this might have been a serious discussion of strategies and tactics, but to the two, it was a lighthearted exchange. Naturally, the topic shifted quickly.
"What's that scar?" Enkrid asked.
"It's from trusting the wrong person."
Krang bore a long scar beneath his chin, one that must have come from a near-fatal encounter.
Enkrid said nothing more—his response a simple internal acknowledgment.
"So that's how it is," he thought, considering the man's poor judgment.
A king is someone who commands people. Without discernment, betrayal is inevitable.
Sometimes, words aren't needed to convey meaning. Enkrid's demeanor spoke volumes.
The sight made the veins on Krang's guard's forehead bulge in irritation.
It wasn't poor judgment. If only they knew the circumstances, they wouldn't dismiss it so lightly.
"I've learned much from it," Krang said with a quiet chuckle, a reaction the guard found unfamiliar. Until now, Krang's smiles had always been faint at best.
The pleasant walk and conversation, enjoying the mild spring weather, soon came to an end.
"See you again, friend," Krang said.
Krais felt oddly deflated. Krang hadn't once suggested taking his side or fighting for his vision.
All the preparations Krais had made for a retort seemed pointless.
Wasn't this the part where someone like him would say,
Why don't you join me in creating such a nation? Stand with me, and I'll grant you gold to swim in and a parade of beautiful women to entertain you!
But then again, a man like that wouldn't have come this far.
As Krais mulled over his thoughts, Enkrid spoke up.
"Are we friends?"
"Why wouldn't we be?" Krang replied.
"Fine, let's say we are."
The guard felt his neck stiffen at the exchange. He couldn't intervene, though, as Krang had ordered him to stand down.
More importantly, the guard trusted his lord's actions carried meaning and purpose, even if they weren't always pleasing to watch.
Still, it looked as though his lord was practically pleading for friendship by handing over coins—an image that made the guard clench his jaw unconsciously.
"If this goes on, I might end up using my whip on your head," the guard muttered.
"Well, dodge it if you can," Krang said with a laugh.
Even Enkrid smirked at that.
Having befriended Leona, the head of the Rockfreed Merchant Guild, it wasn't bad to see someone who might one day ascend to the throne as a friend.
That wasn't the real reason, though. Enkrid simply liked Krang as a person.
"Until next time."
"Indeed."
Enkrid and Krais departed.
Krang quietly watched them go.
The guard finally broke the silence.
"You are aware of the risks in coming here, aren't you?"
"I am."
Krang rested a hand on his hip and tilted his head toward the sky.
It was such a fine day, he thought. The sunlight was warm, the air mild. Perfect for lying in the grass and taking a nap.
The guard, observing him, couldn't help but ask the fundamental question. Krang always emphasized addressing doubts before they festered into misunderstandings.
Left unchecked, misunderstandings led to conflict—situations that could often be avoided with simple dialogue.
So the guard asked, "Then why did you come here?"
"I was curious."
It was clear he was referring to the man who had just left. The guard voiced the natural follow-up question.
"Curious about his skill?"
Should they have sparred? The guard pondered.
Krang shielded his eyes from the sun as he gazed upward.
He spoke his thoughts aloud.
"I was curious if things haven't changed."
A faint chuckle escaped his lips, and his escort tilted his head in mild confusion but didn't press further. Not everything required an answer. Understanding every detail of his master's mind wasn't necessary; what mattered was that Krang had sought something, confirmed it, and found satisfaction in the result.
"Ah, I see."
"Good."
Krang held Enkrid in high regard, perhaps more than anyone else did—even more than Enkrid himself.
If someone can remain unchanging like that...
Unwavering resolve captivates those around it. It commands attention, inspires others, and exerts influence. In Krang's philosophy, having influence over others was no small feat.
He could have pursued politics.
A man who could have established a powerful house instead chose the sword, aiming to become a knight.
A knight stood at the pinnacle of martial prowess. If a man like Enkrid achieved that status, what would happen?
Not my concern.
Krang had confirmed all he needed to know. Enkrid had not changed. He was still striving to be a knight, while Krang was steering toward leading a kingdom.
"Do you think a continent without war is possible?"
"If you desire it, my lord."
"Easier said than done."
Krang chuckled, giving his escort a firm pat on the shoulder. For a moment, the master seemed lighter than usual, though perhaps it was a trick of the eye.
Krang began walking.
"Let's go. If we want to survive, there's still a lot of struggling left to do."
"Understood."
The escort followed his master, sunlight casting long shadows behind them.
"The throne shouldn't go to someone who wants it. It should go to someone who doesn't."
As they returned, Enkrid spoke, prompting Krais to correct him.
"More accurately, it should go to someone who knows what they're doing. A man ignorant of his own duties can't even beg properly, let alone rule."
Krais blended his response with a continental proverb. Even becoming a beggar requires knowing what to do.
Enkrid's comment was a reply to a question Marcus had posed earlier. A ruler's worth wasn't in desire but in understanding the weight of their responsibilities and the path they must walk.
"In that sense, it makes him an impressive person," Marcus noted.
"Or just someone not as stupid as he could be?"
Enkrid's question carried a deeper implication, which Krais understood. He gave the most suitable answer.
"No, I don't think that's the case."
Krais reflected on why Krang had come here. The reason had to be simple.
He came to see this man.
Why would Krang seek out Enkrid? Because of his growing fame? Because he was making waves?
Unlikely.
But whatever the reason, Krang had made sacrifices—time, information, and security.
"Do you think it's dangerous?" Enkrid asked abruptly.
Enkrid, perceptive as always, had grasped the potential risks surrounding Krang. He wasn't wrong to do so. Krais respected his commander's sharp mind.
"Yes. I wonder if he'll make it out alive. Didn't he say he was heading to the royal palace?"
Indeed, Krang had mentioned returning to the royal palace, a treacherous journey fraught with hazards. Yet despite the dangers, he had come here.
The trade hub of Border Guard, which Krais had established, had seen explosive growth. With the involvement of the Rocfreed Merchant Guild, commerce was booming, and the city was bustling like never before.
But a bustling city was also the perfect hiding place for those with ill intent.
You can't stop every spy.
Krais had tightened the security around key facilities but left less critical areas unchecked. Expanding the intelligence guild for internal surveillance was a future goal, but not yet a priority.
If Krang was still facing threats to his life? That seemed inevitable.
Even now, Enkrid was analyzing the situation, explaining his reasoning.
"His escort adjusted their stance, always keeping ready for action."
"He wouldn't touch food or water unless it was pre-prepared. He's seen hardship."
"And no hidden guards... That suggests he doesn't have many people around him."
For Krang, no place could be as dangerous as Border Guard. The moment he left, assassins could easily target him—perhaps even ramming his carriage.
Krais listened to Enkrid's reasoning and nodded. His commander's deduction made sense.
"If you want to do it, just do it, right?"
Who was the commander of the Madmen Unit? A man with jet-black hair and piercing blue eyes: Enkrid.
"I know. But I still need to understand why."
"In any case, I agree that he's too valuable to lose."
When they returned to camp, Marcus was already there, and Enkrid preempted any serious remarks Marcus might make.
"We'll escort him to the royal palace. Talk to Krais about the fee."
Marcus let out a surprised grunt, his jaw dropping slightly. Enkrid's quick thinking had completely caught him off guard.
"Huh? Are we going somewhere?"
From behind, Rem asked, already itching for action.
Looks like I'll have to take him along,
Enkrid thought, nodding to himself. Keeping Rem close was better than letting him stir up trouble elsewhere.

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