Eternally Regressing Knight
Chapter 378 - Over and Over
'How did he manage those delicate movements?'
In his memory, Shinar swung his sword. Light as a butterfly, her toes barely touched the ground. The leaf-shaped sword she wielded was also light, matching her style.
Even though the sword had a puffed middle, it still gave the impression of fluttering.
Watching the blade move like a dance, it seemed there was no force involved at all.
But when faced with it, the reality was different. It was a blow full of strength. He knew this well from having fought against it.
How did she manage that?
To execute something so detailed, force is required. But to achieve that kind of movement, you must take the force out.
Though he understood the way the action was performed, he couldn't help but wonder if the body could move in such a way.
'Is this a path I don't know?'
No, he already knew. He had learned countless techniques, honed his body, and ingrained them.
"Is there just one way to apply force? Without precision, the isolation technique means nothing."
Audin had spoken of the different types of muscles.
There were large muscles, but also smaller muscles that helped control fine movements.
Through rigorous training, Shinar had gained that precision.
Enkrid needed that too.
"If you sharpen your senses, you'll be able to feel it."
Jaxen had said this many times. Based on that, Enkrid squinted his eyes and began swinging his weapons with both hands.
He drew imaginary lines in the air and aimed his sword precisely at them. It didn't succeed at first. That didn't matter. Enkrid repeated the motion.
It was similar to training by drawing circles on trees and hitting them accurately, but the precision and detail in his "Sword's Tip Meeting" training were on a completely different level from simply hitting large drawn circles.
To put it in terms of Naurilia's military ranking system, this was the difference between a low-ranking soldier and a top-tier soldier.
Moreover, his opponent's sword was continuously moving.
'Aishia doesn't stay still.'
She would take small steps, shift her body, and change the direction of her sword.
The answer was clear. It required precision on the level of plucking a feather from a moving bird.
To achieve that, Enkrid needed training that made the tips of his swords meet. He was so immersed that he swam in the ocean of focus.
Then, he heard a voice.
"The barbarian has no business here! Go suck goat's milk!"
The third training session of the day wasn't much different from usual, but the meeting with the constable marked a shift in the atmosphere.
Enkrid turned his gaze to see Rem grinning and grabbing a wooden axe handle.
"Goat's milk?"
Ah, it's too late to stop this now.
Enkrid thought as he stopped moving forward.
The guard captain desperately stepped in front of the constable, trying to block him. Whether it was loyalty, a lack of thought, or perhaps a confident belief in his skills, one of the soldiers drew his sword and swung it.
"You bastard!"
He shouted as he aimed at Rem's head.
Just before the sword reached his hair, Rem moved.
He stomped the ground and jumped to the side.
The sword cut through the air, and Rem immediately twirled his axe to change direction and swung it.
Thwack!
The crisp sound rang out. Instead of a clean strike, it was a blow with the axe's back.
The opposite side of the axe, where the head hit his abdomen, made a deep indent before popping back out. It wasn't a killing strike, but it wasn't a light tap either.
"Grrk!"
The soldier who was hit flew through the air.
'That's going to hurt.'
He knew from experience. This wasn't a soft blow. If Audin's hammer was bearable, this could easily break bones and tear organs.
The soldier who was flung to the side rolled on the ground, vomiting. Tears and mucus mixed with blood in the vomit.
After rolling once, the soldier gagged before his eyes rolled back in his head. He had been knocked unconscious by the blow to his abdomen.
Rem let out a humph and muttered.
"Pathetic."
His voice was soft, but it was enough to silence the group. Though it was a mutter, everyone heard it clearly.
The constable was so shocked that he stood with his mouth agape. Then he closed his mouth, ground his teeth, and spoke.
"...Treason!"
If left unchecked, Rem's massacre would begin. Neither Ragna nor Jaxen would stop him if they fought.
Enkrid moved as soon as the constable finished speaking. Once again, he stepped forward to try and persuade him.
He stomped the ground, lowered his body, and moved forward. With a swift motion, he struck the guard's neck with the edge of his hand.
The guard, stunned, raised his eyes to look at Rem. At the mention of treason, the man inadvertently gripped his spear tighter.
The veins on his hand stood out, but his body froze.
Even if he hadn't frozen, he wasn't skilled enough to counter.
Crack!
The guard's neck twisted with a sound and he collapsed to the ground. Before his body even touched the floor, Enkrid spun around and added centrifugal force to deliver a palm strike to the helmet of another nearby soldier.
The sound of the palm hitting the helmet echoed.
"Ugh!"
The soldier's knees gave way like the legs of a limp octopus, and he collapsed.
His brain had been rattled, so it would be hard for him to regain his senses anytime soon.
These two were blocking Enkrid's and the constable's path.
After taking them down, Enkrid grabbed the constable's ankle, who was still on his horse. The shocked constable stared at him.
Their eyes met, and Enkrid smiled as he yanked the constable's leg.
Crack!
"Argh!"
The constable's leg, caught in the stirrup, snapped. Enkrid had demonstrated the same move Dunbakel had done earlier.
Enkrid knocked the constable's head against the stirrup with his elbow, knocking him unconscious.
Thwack. Crunch.
The sound of his neck cracking echoed, but it wasn't fatal.
All of this happened in the span of just one or two breaths.
Heeeying!
Only then did the horse react, lifting its front hooves, and Enkrid, having finished his work, stepped back to avoid the hooves.
The squires, who had been watching from behind the constable, stood frozen, eyes wide, holding onto half-drawn swords.
The captain, who had been next to the squires, stopped with his hand on his sword, unsure of what to do.
"Why not just kill him?"
Rem muttered again from the side. Enkrid, unconcerned, stared at the constable hanging unconscious from the horse before frowning slightly.
"What was the constable's name?"
He hadn't cared enough to remember it.
"Polman Vertes," the captain said, glancing at him.
"If you're not going to do anything more, you should leave."
Enkrid nodded, and the squires opened their mouths, but hesitated to speak.
What could he possibly say in this situation?
Everyone fell silent. The soldiers had no more words. The captain decided he didn't need to break his own leg over this.
An even heavier silence descended than when Rem had knocked the soldier away.
"I think you're worse than me. I'll pass you the title of noble hunter."
"Keep it yourself."
Rem threw back a flippant remark, and Enkrid responded with his usual coolness.
Clop! Clop! Clop!
The sound of hooves pounding the ground at full speed rang out, followed by a shout.
"Save me!"
The voice came from deep within, filled with sincerity. It was a voice Enkrid recognized, one he had expected. This was the third time it had happened.
It was Marcus. Enkrid cut through the soldiers who had surrounded him, clearing a path, and climbed over the wall.
The soldiers didn't dare to stop him. They stepped back. Rem followed, hopping up onto the wall, with Dunbakel also leaping up beside them.
"Rem."
Enkrid spoke while keeping his eyes on Marcus, who was being chased. A figure in unusual attire appeared among the pursuers.
"The Immortal Madman, huh? We missed him before, and now he's been hanging around here. I'll go take care of him."
"Go."
Enkrid immediately responded, and Rem dashed off without looking back.
He jumped off the wall with a loud thud, showcasing his inhuman ability to hover.
Leaping sideways, he landed on the roof of another building.
Then, as he ran, he drew a throwing axe and shouted.
"Hey, you bastard! Try running again this time!"
There was no option to wait and ambush. The opponent immediately turned around. Rem welcomed it.
It was too easy to catch those who charged. He wanted to chase and catch those who ran away. It was a hunter's instinct.
"You madman."
Hearing himself called a madman by the Immortal Madman, Rem shut his mouth and kept running. His body soon hit the ground, having leapt over the roofs and walls. He shot forward terrifyingly fast, and the Immortal Madman ran just as quickly.
Both of them disappeared from sight in no time.
Enkrid turned his body on the wall, raising one hand as he spoke.
"I'm heading to the royal palace. Who's going to stop the Viscount of Mernes from entering?"
He summarized what his companion, Squire Lopford, had said earlier.
In the grand scheme of things, things were happening as they were meant to.
Ropord's change of heart had been similar.
Now, what was the man sitting on the wall trying to say?
What was he doing here?
"Ragna, Dunbakel."
Enkrid noticed the change in Squire Ropord's expression and called out to the two of them.
"Understood."
"Alright."
They answered, just as a group of assassins appeared in response to Marcus's warning that something had gone wrong at the royal palace.
"Stab..."
The assassins stood on the wall, one of them, a monocled old man, about to speak.
Without hesitation, Enkrid dashed forward.
There was no time for talking. He moved quickly, outmatching his opponents in both timing and skill. He jumped onto the wall, drawing his sword and slashing downward.
As he swung his sword, a brief thought crossed his mind.
Has my sword become more precise than before?
He didn't know. He couldn't yet feel any physical changes.
To the assassins' eyes, something flew toward them, and something else dropped suddenly.
The assassin didn't even have time to dodge, and his head was split open by Enkrid's blade.
The severed head exploded sideways, and blood and brains spilled down where the blade passed.
After killing one assassin, Enkrid jumped backward.
Thwip!
Daggers and darts flew toward his position, and as if anticipating them, Enkrid dodged.
"I'll say it first: I got stabbed. So, He's completed the request. It hurt, it stung, and... that's what you asked him to do, right? You can see the scar here."
He raised his left arm, though his armor concealed any visible scar.
"You mad bastard."
Another assassin mumbled.
"No originality in your insults."
Enkrid casually retorted. It was something he was naturally good at—turning his opponent's anger against them.
"You!"
The assassin was quick to react with anger.
Assassins were specialists at stealth and surprise attacks.
If things went wrong, they'd strike and kill, not waste time with insults.
So, this kind of provocation worked well.
No matter their skill, it was inevitable that all the assassins' attention was now on Enkrid.
A single strike and a few words had achieved this.
Before long, Jaxen disappeared from view. He knew exactly what he had to do without needing to be told.
The monocled, white-haired assassin in the center ground his teeth and yelled.
"The information leaked! Everyone, counter!"
Enkrid reacted swiftly. It was so fast that it seemed impossible for him not to have anticipated it.
And then, what was the meaning of the words he had spoken?
Stabbed? Where? After a brief moment of thought, Jaxen understood what had been said.
It was about the request. They had told him to kill, and now Enkrid was claiming he had been stabbed. Why did he complain about the lack of originality in the insult?
It was all nonsense.
From the beginning, Jaxen had come to fight.
After all, he was one of the leaders of the assassin alliance. He knew how to fight.
Of course, all of this happened because Enkrid had repeated this day, but he didn't know that.
The movements were already familiar. Enkrid realized once again how much training the assassin group had put in.
No matter the situation, they always started fighting in the same way.
Those who threw did so, those who retreated did so, and those who used poison did the same. Meanwhile, Saxen had changed his actions slightly each time during these repeated days.
At first, he had wielded a longsword, but now, he was running along the walls with two stilettos in hand, blood staining their sharp blades.
Already, four assassins had been killed by his strikes.
Enkrid found it fascinating.
The reactions were the same, yet Jaxen's actions kept changing.
"To match my movements?"
It was just a hunch, but Enkrid felt like he was right.
"Attack from that side!"
This time, the shout came from another direction, not the white-haired man. It was aimed at Jaxen.
Clearly, Jaxen was a threat.
Watching this, Enkrid stepped back and called out to the one-eyed man.
"Give me a lift."
As he spoke, he sprinted toward the mansion's exit. The wierd-eyed horse followed closely behind, and Marcus was at the entrance, riding a horse.
Marcus quickly stepped aside, signaling that he would be joining Enkrid.
This was the third iteration of the day.
Enkrid judged that it was better to have him close by rather than hiding him away.
Most people would have made similar decisions during the first iteration, but not everything could be perfect.
Even though he repeated his best judgment every time, he knew not everything could be perfect.
He acknowledged this reality.
"Where should we hide?"
"I can handle myself. My lord is stuck at the royal palace. The knights have taken action."
"Got it."
"What?"
The sound of hooves grew louder.
Soon, Marcus's voice became inaudible as the sound of the hooves overtook it.
Marcus swiftly veered off to the side.
He appeared to have decided to hide on his own.
While taking a short break, he tore his shirt to tightly bind his wounded arm.
It wasn't a severe injury, but it needed attention.
Enkrid continued on, heading toward the outer roads leading to the royal palace, leaping over obstacles.
"Wow."
He saw the stunned faces of soldiers as he sped past. As the wierd-eyed horse halted, Enkrid jumped to the side, moving as though he was flying.
The wierd-eyed horse seemed surprised.
"Can you really do that?"
Enkrid quickly gave a casual response, heading straight into the royal palace.
Along the way, an ill omen awaited.
"You..."
Thwack!
Before the words were even finished, Enkrid charged forward, using his Will to strike, cutting off the man's head.
The severed head collided with the white wall of the royal garden, making a sickening thud as blood splattered across the wall.
Before the shocked instructors could react, Enkrid sprinted through them.
Still like a lone wolf, he cut down the pathetic fools, stabbing and slicing them to death.
After speaking briefly to the maid, he rushed inside, heading straight for the orange-haired figure.
"That's it, let's get started."
As he ran, Enkrid spoke. Before Aishia could say anything, he leveled his sword at her.
It was a direct strike.
The beginning and end of the fight were no different from before. He wasn't yet at a level to surpass Aisia.
The only difference was that the one he had seen on the first day didn't appear again.
Instead, Aishia turned her back after defeating Enkrid.
"I'll check something."
With that, she vanished into the shadows.
What followed was a repeat of what had come before. Enkrid continued doing the same things over and over.

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