Eternally Regressing Knight
Chapter 349 - 349 - Diligent Even in This Weather
Chapter 349 - How Diligent in This Weather
"Diligent, even in this weather."
Rumble!
As soon as Enkrid muttered, lightning struck.
"Is something coming?"
Krang asked. Enkrid nodded.
The weather was going wild. Suddenly, a storm rushed in.
The rain had been falling since they set off, but who would have expected the weather to turn so erratic?
It was as if the weather was acting like a crazy, directionless fool, almost on the same level as Ragna. Just yesterday, it had been a clear, spring day, and now there was this sudden storm.
"Seven in front, ten on the left, eight on the right, and six behind," Jaxen reported.
The rain showed no signs of slowing down.
It felt like the ground was being dug up.
Even though they were wearing oil-soaked robes, the wind bent the rain, and it hit their faces, making their cheeks sting.
The wind was fierce. The gusts were so strong that it was difficult to keep their eyes open.
The rain pouring over their clothes felt like arrows being shot to remove any hint of touch.
Attacking in this weather?
This wasn't even a matter of diligence.
The enemy seemed to be very dedicated to their job.
If not, they must have been forced to come.
"Are they holding their family hostage? Is that why?" Enkrid raised his voice, facing forward.
As he spoke, he took a step forward, but the slippery muddy path halfway swallowed his boots. Every time he lifted his foot, it was a nuisance.
Attacking after lying in ambush on a day like this? Wouldn't they catch a cold?
It was a genuinely curious thought.
The road was nothing special; it was just a large stone-paved road, at best.
It was said to be a road laid by one of Krang's ancestors, a wise king known for their foresight.
That was why the road was named "Royal Blessing."
It was a road that extended from the outskirts to the royal family, and if you just followed it, you'd reach the royal palace.
Cities lined the road, which was the core of the capital, Naurilia.
At this moment, a new question arose. What was it about Ragna that even on such a road, he kept getting lost?
Just then, the genius who would lose his way at any moment, Ragna, suddenly turned around.
The ones trailing behind were getting closer with each step.
The ones blocking the front were no different.
Narrowing his eyes to maximize his vision, Krang saw what he needed to.
A few were wearing armor, wielding short swords, while others stood with their hands hanging loosely by their sides.
The one at the front shouted loudly. No, his voice rang out through the rain.
"Mercenaries? Or regular soldiers? There's no need to risk your life on this. We're only after one person."
It was nonsense.
The others, excluding the one speaking, had shifted their posture.
It was a tactic that seemed familiar to Enkrid—the kind of move used by mercenaries in the Valen style.
The enemy was using a similar trick.
Enkrid tried to read the movements of those closing in from all sides, but soon gave up.
The rain had to fall heavily enough to hear anything.
The rain mixed with the gusts of wind made it impossible to distinguish any sounds with his ears.
"Who?" Enkrid asked, knowing full well, but still inquiring. As he did, he placed his right hand to his ear and let his left hand hang down.
"That is..."
The enemy trailed off, employing a rhetorical trick to keep everyone waiting for the next words.
Then, the one at the front made a deliberate move to draw their attention.
Crash!
The rain above began to form a specific shape.
'Ah.' Enkrid couldn't help but admire.
Did they bring a magician?
This wasn't a pathetic opponent.
Enkrid admired them, but that was enough. He didn't avoid the magic nor did he strike with his sword.
There was no need to. Sorry, but they weren't the only ones with a magician.
Hmph.
From behind, Esther, now no longer in her leopard form, stood up and waved her hand.
The rain that had formed into a round sphere began to scatter, bouncing off in every direction.
It was a magnificent sight.
Boom!
The sound of the gathered rain bursting echoed through everyone's ears.
In an instant, the rain that had been pouring down above their heads disappeared.
Instead, a gust of wind, stronger than before, rushed through, pushing outward from the area where the magic collided.
Enkrid pressed his foot into the muddy ground.
Whoosh!
The strong wind tried to push him back, but he braced his core and bent slightly, enduring the gusts.
Naturally, everyone managed to withstand it on their own.
Even the assassins dropped low, trying to shield themselves from the storm.
"Magician!"
One of the enemies shouted.
They, too, had cloaks soaked in oil.
However, because of the fierce wind, many of them lost their cloaks.
Among them, the one who had shouted loudly could now be seen with his face partially exposed through his hood. He was a man who looked to be in his fifties.
His gaze turned to one side.
He was so shocked that he didn't even attempt to pull his hood back on.
Where his gaze landed, Esther stood proudly, facing the falling rain.
Her robe repelled the raindrops, and the wind grew weaker as it approached her. It was a mysterious sight.
Through the refracted raindrops, Esther raised a finger.
She extended her index and thumb, keeping the others curled, then aimed at the magician and whispered.
"Dumeler's Arrow."
The words were lost in the sound of the rain, unheard by anyone.
The spell, formed by gathering the wind, took shape and flew away.
"Ee!"
The enemy mage let out a sound. Thud! His head exploded.
"Die."
Esther's voice was clearly heard after the enemy was killed.
Enkrid thought to himself that, at times like this, it should be "He's dead" instead of "Die."
"...What?"
That wasn't the leader of the assassins speaking, but rather the whip guards murmuring. Were they surprised?
So was I. Enkrid muttered inwardly.
He knew Esther was a mage, but he hadn't expected her to overwhelm the enemy like this.
"Why are you so good at fighting?" Rem asked Esther in a casual tone.
"I've always been good at fighting."
Surprisingly, Esther didn't have a bad relationship with Rem. She answered without hesitation.
"Nice."
Rem just nodded in response.
"Kill them all!"
The assassin leader regained his senses and shouted. Only then did enemies rush from all directions.
Had they forgotten about the failure of magic so quickly? No, these were well-trained individuals.
What did it mean for them to be well-trained? It meant that they did what was required at the right moment.
And that's exactly what they did.
They formed a siege line, shooting poisoned daggers and crossbow bolts, rather than recklessly charging forward.
"A-"
Enkrid had experience escaping from places where shamans and mages joined the fray, encircled by soldiers and terrain.
Compared to that, this couldn't even be called a siege.
Besides, now there was Rem, Jaxen, Ragna, Dunbakel, and Esther with them.
The mage had already had his head blown off from the start.
'We'll break through this easily.'
Enkrid thought to himself as he swung his sword. Five crossbow bolts aimed at Krang ricocheted off his silver longsword.
The whip guard also pulled out his shield and blocked one side.
The daggers thudded and stuck into the shield. The long shield did its job well.
In the meantime, Rem dove into the midst of the assassins like an enraged beast.
As he charged in, the assassins scattered in all directions.
As they spread out, the limbs of the enemies flew through the air.
This happened because the enemies were slower in retreating than Rem was in reaching them.
Rem reached the spot faster than they could escape.
After his charge, Rem's axe caught Enkrid's attention. It was a weapon that had been modified at a blacksmith's shop.
"Make the handle this long," Rem had said.
His axe had a longer handle than most.
While his previous hand axe had been about half the length of his forearm, this one was at least half again longer.
The axe cut and split the enemy's limbs, head, and body with silent arcs.
Its range was far greater than it appeared.
"He dodged?" Rem turned his body, saying that.
A man, who had narrowly avoided the deliberate swing of the axe, was visible.
In weather like this, even Gambison and steel armor are difficult to wear.
The enemy was no exception.
He wore thin leather armor, studded with spikes, and held two short swords in his hands.
He tossed aside his half-dismantled cloak and shouted.
"Crazy bastard!"
He looked more like a mercenary confident in his abilities than an assassin.
"Do you know who I am?"
He shouted. Rem answered with his weapon.
It wasn't just the axe that he was armed with.
He also had two throwing axes hanging from his waist and a modular spear on his back.
In addition, he carried several short daggers tucked into various places on his body.
One of those cleaved through the rain and wind.
At that moment, Rem's left hand flashed, and a throwing axe, now a vertical disc, flew straight into the enemy's head.
The mercenary's legs jerked back as his hands crossed in front of his chest. He tried to block, but the axe had already embedded itself in his skull.
The two swords clashed weakly, then fell downward. His arms slackened, and his body lost its strength. He collapsed backward, landing on his back.
The axe remained lodged in his head like a stump, proving its existence.
The pouring rain quickly washed the blood away.
Enkrid watched and realized.
This wasn't just brute force; it was far beyond that.
'They don't know.'
That was the immediate conclusion he came to.
These assassins had targeted Krang's life, but they had no idea who had joined the group to protect him.
They had acted hastily, decided quickly, and increased their speed to charge. The enemy was too busy blocking the way to consider anything else.
It was an obvious trap. That's why Krais had said it was better for them to use the main road and move quickly.
Enkrid hadn't expected them to be so perfectly caught.
"Ugh!" "Ugh!" The screams came from behind.
Ragna was rampaging. Every time the thick, long sword in his hand moved, blood spurted from the enemy's neck.
Was it the flashy swordsmanship of a broadsword? No.
He was using precise posture and thrusts to kill one enemy at a time.
Rem charged ahead, while Ragna held the rear.
The most excited of them all, however, was now charging forward to wreak havoc. "Here, here! Over here!"
Dunbakel swung her scimitar and charged forward. Kicking the ground, she powered through with her leg muscles, becoming a line of destruction.
Three of the assassins targeted her with slingshots.
They spun their strings and launchers above their heads, throwing homemade bullets—smooth stones they had carved—at her.
Seeing this, Dunbakel's eyes went wide.
"Where did this cursed thing come from?!"
All the frustration she had endured until now erupted in a furious outburst.
Dunbakel drew her scythe and twisted her wrist.
With the broad surface of the scythe, she intercepted the bullet.
There should have been a sound of impact as the bullet and blade met, but none came.
Was the sound drowned out by the storm? No.
Dunbakel absorbed the force of the bullet with the surface of her scythe and sent it flying away.
Ting ting ting!
A miraculous maneuver, with her adjusting the angle perfectly.
It was a display of both delicacy and boldness, a performance that seemed to combine skill with audacity.
Dunbakel too.
Was she a genius as well? Had she been?
Well, if she wasn't, Rem would have no reason to keep her around and teach her.
She casually batted away the bullets as if flicking them off and then leapt into the fray. If Rem had looked like an enraged beast, Dunbakel truly was a beast.
She was a beastkin, after all.
Despite her fur being soaked in the rain, she didn't seem to mind the weight at all, and Dunbakel moved with incredible speed.
She swung her scythe widely, forcing enemies back or slicing through the body parts of those who had let their guard down, using her claws to strike at their skulls.
If someone got caught by those claws, even a leather helmet would split open without doing its job.
"Where are these monsters coming from?!" One of the assassins shouted.
Enkrid was swatting away crossbow bolts and daggers aimed at Krang, kicking up those that fell to the ground with his foot before grabbing and hurling them.
By chance, one of the daggers struck the forehead of the one who had shouted.
"Oh, sorry. Were you talking?"
There was no more talk from the dead man. The one who had taken a dagger to the forehead lay sprawled on the ground, his limbs twitching.
The pouring rain showed no sign of letting up.
Whooshhhh! Crash!
The thunder was the same. Off in the distance, another flash of light illuminated the sky, followed by the sound of thunder.
Enkrid spoke indifferently. "Were you always this popular?"
He was asking Krang.
"Lately, yes," Kran answered.
"You must envy the continent's top bard."
"It's just a fleeting popularity."
Enkrid's joke was smoothly replied to by Krang.
Krang, who had taken up poetry and composition as hobbies since childhood, was also good at jokes.
The whip-bearing guards might have wanted to ask if it was really the time for jokes, but they kept quiet.
It made sense. The battle had been over almost as soon as it began.
Esther, who had killed the wizard, stood indifferently beside Enkrid.
Rem, throwing an axe at the retreating enemy, had wiped out the group that was blocking their way.
The one suspected to be the leader had his skull split open during the first charge.
Was Ragna really any different?
The six who had been covering the rear had thought they could kill Ragna with a single blow. It was just the way Ragna made himself look vulnerable, but anyone who could see through that would have recognized his skill at first sight.
After dispatching them one by one with practiced thrusts, they realized the difference in skill—but by then, it was already too late.
Jaxen, from time to time, would sidestep or stab through the hearts of those seeking openings, returning to his original position.
The rest were killed by Dunbakel.
"Hey, where do you think you're going?"
She even shouted in a heart-wrenching voice at a fleeing enemy.
"Of course they'll run."
"Oh."
Upon hearing this, Enkrid remarked, and Dunbakel let out a sigh of disappointment.
That crazy woman.
The guards had figured out Dunbakel's identity as well.
But despite her madness, her fighting skill made it clear: she was no slouch.
She had clearly not been slacking off all this time.
The beastkin who had been rolling around under Rem's command was now different from the one who had fought Enkrid the first time.
But above all, what amazed the guards was the man right in front of them. Enkrid.
The man who casually cracked jokes while effortlessly deflecting flying daggers, crossbow bolts, and bullets with his sword.
It was almost like a magic trick. He made it seem so effortless. A truly astonishing skill.
Enkrid realized that his sense and technique had become much more refined and developed since before.
Was it because of the experience of being trapped by the enemy?
The blade of instinct was now sharper than ever.
Thus, blocking even unseen attacks was easy.
"You really fight well."
Krang marveled. The ground was littered with the bodies of the slain.
Whether they would become ghouls in the future or the drowned corpses of monsters born only in strong currents or heavy rains was something for another time.
"Then, let's head out again."
Enkrid quietly led the group. The job was done; it was time to move.
Enkrid couldn't help but admire.
Enkrid muttered inwardly.
He shouted.

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