Does the brevity of today change anything? No.
The task was clear: stop the threat approaching the city.
Enkrid moved immediately. Repeated actions inevitably lead to mastery, and even if today's repetition was unnecessary, his hands were already adept at preparing his gear.
"Is waking people with screams a local custom?"
Rem had woken up.
"It's a monster. Probably a wave," Enkrid replied calmly as he stepped outside.
The others would follow on their own. Passing through the soldiers, he made his way back to the city walls. Instead of climbing up to where Oara was stationed, he waited briefly in front of the gate.
"Let me out!"
A man from Rowena's group appeared, shouting.
Enkrid smacked the back of his head.
Thwack!
"...Huh? What are you doing?"
Milio looked at him in surprise.
"If he goes out, he'll die."
More precisely, anyone going to support that fool, including Milio, would die.
"Well, that's true," Milio admitted.
"A commander must keep a cool head," Enkrid said, feigning indifference.
But inside, it wasn't so.
You can't die like that.
The memory of Knight Oara's end haunted him. It was devoid of grandeur, without any nobility.
Her death wasn't tied to the previous battles. She had died without even mounting a proper resistance.
The city was meant to be defended, yet it wasn't.
It was a meaningless death.
Should he let that happen?
No. He didn't want to.
He couldn't allow it.
Enkrid set a goal.
The Ferryman, observing him, chuckled.
Even if one tried to change everything, some things would never change. The Ferryman foresaw this tearing Enkrid apart.
And yet, there was a flicker of expectation.
What will he do?
What would that madman gain from repeating today?
What would change?
The unknown was delightful, and it made the Ferryman laugh.
Watching someone struggle to change their fate only to remain trapped in the day was entertainment in itself.
"Oa!"
A battle cry echoed. Enkrid surged forward. He braced against incoming arrows and stepped outside the gate even before the hostage emerged.
He didn't stop there, striding boldly into the darkness beyond.
"Are you planning to go crazy here?"
Rem followed after him.
"And what are you doing tagging along?"
"Think of me as a caregiver for a lunatic."
"Since you're at it, do it properly."
Enkrid's gaze darted around, scanning for anything unusual.
Rem found this leader fascinating at times, as though he foresaw the future.
Did he trade talent for instinct?
He mused silently, refraining from asking aloud—any such question would be met with bizarre answers.
"I die and repeat the day."
That sort of nonsense. Who would believe such a claim?
Enkrid quickly located a spear and a glowing stone pinned beneath a spider monster's abdomen.
The monsters were lying in ambush, ready to strike.
"Rem."
Enkrid needed only to call out for Rem to understand his intent.
The two moved instantly, splitting the monster's head.
They rescued the hostage. Enkrid noted it took less time than yesterday.
But the result was unchanged.
"Where's Knight Oara?"
Returning to the gate, they found Aishia and asked.
"She went into the domain after spotting two strange beasts."
It was too late. The ripple effect of their actions had altered the situation.
Enkrid tried to rush into the domain but was again too late.
Thwip-thwip-thwip!
Arrows rained, and the swarm of spiders began its assault.
The spiders, the size of grown men, surged forward.
"Rem, Dunbakel, we're breaking through!"
"Is that necessary?"
Luagarne questioned but was ignored.
Enkrid carved a path toward the labyrinth—specifically, where Oara had gone.
It would take time. But he had to push through.
Without a word of complaint, everyone followed his orders.
"Glad I sharpened my axe," Rem said, letting his arms dangle loosely before launching into action. In his hands was a Lewis steel axe.
With his technique,
Feathered Axe,
Rem dashed forward, his weapon cutting indiscriminately through the swarm. Any spider caught in its trajectory became a corpse.
As black, viscous blood spattered, Luagarne advanced, wielding a whip in her right hand and a loop sword in her left.
Don't block me," she said, lashing and slashing at the enemies.
Dunbakel drew two curved blades, and Enkrid followed suit with Aker and Flint, cutting, stabbing, and smashing his way forward.
They reached the inner labyrinth.
"Roman!"
A faint cry echoed. The dense forest muffled the sound, preventing it from spreading further.
Upon entering the labyrinth, an unpleasant sensation hit, but Enkrid ignored it.
He saw a spider's three legs piercing through Roman's abdomen. Blood soaked the stakes extending from the creature's back.
But the spider wasn't unharmed.
Its head was crushed by Roman's club-like greatsword.
"Shit. Couldn't do it alone," Roman muttered.
"Where's Knight Oara?"
Enkrid asked, turning his gaze.
The cry had come from a junior knight with short blonde hair, who clutched her stomach, panting heavily.
Looking around, he saw the corpses of owl bears.
Weren't there supposed to be just one?
Instead, there were three. Though not knight-level threats, they had clearly been a deadly ordeal. The bloody battlefield told the story.
They'd fought desperately and won.
But there were no ghouls. Nor was there any sign of the fragment of Balrog.
"How did you know to come?"
The blonde knight asked. Her pale complexion hinted at her dire state.
Blood poured from her grasped stomach, and even immediate first aid wouldn't guarantee survival.
"It's my fault the master couldn't fight properly," she said flatly, though a shadow of sadness lingered.
"That's nonsense, you fool," Roman replied with a grin. Her gaze remained fixed on him.
After those words, Roman blinked slowly, death hovering over him.
"Did the monsters lay a trap?"
Luagarne muttered. She was right. If they entered further, it would lead to this.
Enkrid absorbed the situation and moved.
As he stepped deeper inside, Rem questioned, "Are you heading to your death?"
The intent to dissuade him was clear.
Anyone can see this is too much," Dunbakel murmured."
Enkrid turned to them.
"Even if this is my end," he said, "I'll go forward."
There was no intention to persuade. Only sincerity.
Knight Oara shouldn't die here. She couldn't die like this. Knowing that, he couldn't let her go alone.
"If I must move forward, I will."
Enkrid finished speaking.
"Who's stopping you?" Rem smirked.
"Talk about the pot calling the kettle black," Enkrid retorted.
Rem, at times, seemed oblivious to his own state.
"It's my place to say. Now hurry up."
As they advanced, Enkrid spotted a Beelrog fragment—or so it seemed.
"Beelrog? No, a fragment," Luarne echoed.
"A fragment?" Enkrid asked, having the time to probe further.
"In demonic domains, there are monsters treated as war-crazed demon gods. One wields a flaming sword in his right hand and an unbreakable whip in his left," she explained.
"You sound like you've seen it."
"My fighting style was inspired by it."
That meant she had firsthand experience.
"I heard it sometimes splits its soul to create things like this."
Enkrid nodded slightly and turned his attention forward.
Even looking at the red, muscular figure made his shoulders ache. The oppressive weight bore down on him.
Was the fragment equivalent to a knight?
Oara's corpse came into view, alongside a ghoul with its head split.
A creature dubbed Jericks.
Death loomed once again.
Yet, should he do nothing?
Enkrid gripped his sword tightly, raising Aker.
"Can you speak? Your father's Balrog, right? Is your mother a ghoul?"
Enkrid taunted, though naturally, the monster did not respond.
Rem, staying close, muttered about his bad luck, claiming he came to ward off misfortune but encountered it instead.
Dunbakel succumbed to fear again.
This time, rather than confronting it, she fled.
Luagarne, however, remained indifferent to her own life. Instead, she left behind a single remark:
"I regret that I won't see you become a knight."
"I was planning to stab my ex-husband's face and leave. But seriously, how many lovers do you have?"
Even on this new day, Sir Oara's jokes persisted. This was as she noticed a group of trolls blocking the way.
"You'll die if you go alone," she was warned as she prepared to enter the Demonis Domain.
But Oara shook her head.
"If I retreat now, there won't be another chance."
As soon as her words ended, five trolls lurking in the darkness of the Demon Domain began creeping toward them.
Those creatures were the commanders of the monsters.
"Leave them to me," Oara said with a smile, a bright grin lighting her face.
In this fresh new day, she spoke again.
"So, your dream is to become a knight? Back then, I asked you to define the boundaries of what you'd protect as a knight. And I told you what I would protect, didn't I? If I want to protect the city, what should I do?"
The answer required no second thought.
"Destroy the Demon Domain."
"Exactly. And so, my dream is to kill Jericks."
She had named her ex-husband after a ghoul, determined to destroy him. Oara's purpose was clear: she was poisoned and living on borrowed time.
Her life's candle had melted to its final inch.
Her one remaining desire was to kill the central monster sustaining the Demon Domain.
To slice apart the knight-level monsters that equaled her own strength.
But she didn't know that Jericks wasn't the core.
"Any chance of victory?" Luagarne asked.
"Once I engage, I won't lose," Oara replied with a grin. She knew the truth: she wouldn't lose. The problem lay with the ghoul-level monster or, worse, something even deadlier appearing.
'What if we had another knight-level warrior?'
It would simplify things.
Oara already knew what she needed: a knight. Clearing the Demon Domain was a task requiring such power.
If they could do it without massive losses, her wish could come true.
But if that wasn't possible?
"Even if I die, I'll kill the bastard."
That was Knight Oara's dream.
Enkrid had seen the end of that dream countless times. The Demon Domain didn't end. Soldiers died. Roman died. The city fell.
The wave couldn't be stopped.
The Demon Domain had prepared. Humanity hadn't.
This time was no different.
As the fragment of the Beelrog approached the exhausted, injured Oara, Jericks lay sprawled lifelessly nearby.
'Does that bastard even know he was named after her ex?'
"Damn, that's a monster," Rem muttered as soon as he saw it.
Enkrid couldn't help but wonder about the Beelrog's main body—what it was like compared to the fragment.
But curiosity wouldn't help here. Right now, all that mattered was dealing with the immediate threat.
To once again face this new day.
To encounter the ghoul again.
"Have you been eating properly?" Enkrid asked out of nowhere.
"My ex-husband," Oara interjected with a laugh, "would you let me settle my grudge with him?"
The monsters had evolved, prepared now to face knights.
The ghoul raised a sword, mimicking Oara's stolen smile.
Groooowl.
The sound felt like an oppressive force.
Still, the monster would die. Oara's sword would cut, tear, and slice through it.
Then, she would die again.
She could flee. She had that option.
If she chose to escape before the Beelrog's shard could strike, it wouldn't pursue her.
In fact, Dunbakel had once fled in terror, and the shard hadn't followed.
But no one questioned Oara's resolve.
Enkrid understood her.
"Roman, wait for me. That one is mine," Oara declared, slaying the ghoul.
She had once managed to fight the Beelrog shard to a standstill.
But not while weary and injured.
Enkrid assessed the situation, reflecting on the day, fighting, and enduring.
What was needed now?
On some occasions, he had pushed back the monsters, including ghouls.
Even mobilized Aishia to hold the line.
There had been days when Oara survived by a narrow margin, only to faint as dawn broke.
It was a recurring pattern.
"What's the plan?" Enkrid finally asked the Ferryman after 121 repeated days.
The Ferryman, his eyes burning like twin blue flames of madness, replied with a smirk.
"You're a crazy bastard."
The eyes of someone who still dared to hope amidst despair naturally evoked such words.

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