Eternally Regressing Knight
Chapter 633: Chapter 633 - No Longer Wishing for Talent
In his right hand, Enkrid wielded the silver sword; in his left, Spark.
Clang!
The silver sword was drawn from his left hip, emitting a soft glow as it sliced horizontally through the air.
At the same time, Spark from his right hip thrust forward to stab what lay in front of him.
Slashing and stabbing—simple motions—but when executed with speed, they became the scythe of a reaper.
Enkrid repeated the same sequence, slashing and stabbing once more.
His precise hands pierced and severed necks with not a millimeter of error.
In the darkness, the insolent servants who had stepped forward to greet their guest were either beheaded or left with gaping wounds.
Meanwhile, the
Will
brushed past his eyes, assisting his adaptation to the dark.
The most significant difference between a squire and a knight lay in their usage of
Will
: the former used it unconsciously, while the latter wielded it with intent.
At this moment, Enkrid employed
Will
, allowing it to aid him in perceiving the environment.
Though he didn’t have perfect visibility akin to the heat-detection sight some fairies possessed, he could roughly discern the enemy’s figures.
Four drowned corpses fell to the ground, their bloated bodies collapsing sideways.
Splash.
The sound of the fall, the damp sensation felt through his boots, the smell mingling with the moist air—these sensations stirred his senses awake.
"Water?"
The labyrinth was damp, but that wasn’t all.
A pressing, unpleasant sensation weighed on his entire body.
"Suppressing?"
It seemed as if something in the air was trying to suppress the
Will
he instinctively activated.
The air itself felt toxic, and the oppressive aura pressing on his shoulders seemed to demand that he leave immediately.
In short, it was a place of overlapping unpleasantness and ominousness, with something actively working to suppress
Will
However, this had little effect on Enkrid.
He was a knight, and his
Will of Refusal
automatically countered such influences.
Though not an absolute countermeasure, it was sufficient to negate the effects.
What remained were the damp air, the unpleasant odor, and the sinister atmosphere.
Not long after Enkrid granted peace to the four drowned servants, Fel, Lua, and their group of fairies entered the scene.
"...What a stench."
Fel commented, frowning.
As a shepherd of the wilderness, he was accustomed to the foul smell of livestock waste, yet the stench here surpassed even that.
The ominous air that Enkrid had sensed also reached Fel, making his hand instinctively touch the grip of his
Idol Slayer
"It’s foul and foreboding," Lua added, glancing around.
Despite the pitch-black darkness, darker than a moonless night, the group could still roughly discern their surroundings.
Even without sight, their other senses remained sharp.
One of the fairies produced a small stone, which began to emit a soft light.
Though not excessively bright, it sufficed.
Fairies, by nature, had eyes capable of piercing through the dark, with some even born with heat-detection abilities.
A few among the group had this gift.
Nonetheless, the presence of a light source greatly enhanced their field of vision.
The luminous stone wasn’t prepared specifically for Enkrid or his companions but had been readied beforehand.
"Already started, have we?"
It was Bran who spoke, pulling out a cigarette in the darkness. Striking his flint, he lit it, and a faint glow emerged as the leaf burned.
The reddish glow of the cigarette stood out amidst the light of the luminous stone, its acrid scent slightly displacing the labyrinth’s foul air.
"Been here before?" Enkrid asked.
"Once."
"Oh?"
"I came as a guide back then."
The labyrinth wasn’t as narrow as it appeared; it could even accommodate Bran’s large frame.
Though they hadn’t planned to navigate such a cave, knowing beforehand wouldn’t have changed much.
The dampness, the viscous moisture on the ground, and the uneven limestone walls defined the entrance to this labyrinth.
"Commander Shinar would likely wish for you to turn back even now."
The voice belonged to a female fairy.
A swordswoman carrying a blade reminiscent of Spark spoke, her tone steady.
It was unclear if she intended to echo Shinar’s thoughts, gauge Enkrid’s resolve, or express her concerns.
Her emotional restraint was exceptional.
"That man is stubborn and doesn’t listen to others," Fel replied on Enkrid’s behalf, an accurate assessment.
"Let’s go," Enkrid said, pressing forward.
The oppressive air, the foul odor, and the sinister atmosphere barred their way, but these were trivial obstructions.
The fairy holding the luminous stone raised it higher.
The drowned corpses they’d encountered earlier and the manticore that had appeared were unlikely to be the only threats.
This proved true.
As they walked through the wide tunnel, monsters emerged relentlessly.
Grrrrhh.
A monstrous roar, accompanied by the stench of decaying flesh, echoed as a creature leaped from the darkness beyond the light of the luminous stone.
They hadn’t walked far, merely rounded a corner, when it appeared.
"It’s a mix of drowned corpses and face-hounds," Lua observed with the insight of a Frog.
Though unnecessary to say, the creatures’ appearance made it evident.
Bloated from the water, with peeling flesh that fell to the ground with a squelch, the face-hounds—four-legged monsters—charged at them in a row, their black eyes gleaming as they blocked the group’s path.
Was it a threat?
Not in the least.
"We’ll handle this," Bran announced.
Naturally, the group wasn’t unprepared.
A fairy swordsman, who had honed his body in place of relying on spiritual energy, was testament to their readiness.
Enkrid crossed his arms, taking a moment to observe their combat prowess.
This was an opportunity to assess the strength of his allies.
The fairies’ combat style was the epitome of practicality.
Bran the Woodguard, alongside Brisa, Arcoyris, and Zero—these were the names of the other fairies.
Zero, the towering fairy who had challenged Enkrid to a duel upon entering the city, stood out prominently, second only to Bran in skill.
"Not bad," Lua remarked.
Enkrid nodded in agreement.
Zero lunged forward, drawing his sword—a
Naidyr
, a blade unique to the fairies.
As he dashed forward and unsheathed his weapon, his muscles coiled, transferring power from his ankles to his wrists as he brought the sword down.
The blade seemed to warp in the dim light as it cleaved through the face-hound vertically.
Splatter!
Despite the luminous stone’s light, the creature’s dark blood stained the ground, adding to the already wet surface.
"It seems aware of you," Lua commented.
The strike resembled Enkrid’s blow against the manticore earlier—similar, though not identical.
"Perhaps a prodigy," Enkrid thought.
Fairies derived their strength from spiritual energy, yet Zero’s blade struck true without it.
The other two fairies were no less skilled, demonstrating sharp precision and teamwork.
Even Enkrid, protected by the
Will of Refusal
from the labyrinth’s oppressive air, felt as though his legs were weighted by iron shackles.
The environment affected them all similarly.
"They’re swift."
Their movements were light, and their strikes were fierce.
While Zero relied on raw power to cut and slash, the other two focused on creating and exploiting vulnerabilities.
Without exchanging glances or words, the pair fought in seamless tandem.
When one exposed their back, a face-hound lunged, only for the other to swiftly decapitate it.
"They deliberately expose weaknesses to bait the monsters, exploiting their instincts and striking at the resulting openings,"
Enkrid observed.
The fairies’ tactics forced the creatures to act predictably, attacking as if compelled.
Though simple in theory, executing such strategies required immense skill.
Among them, Bran stood out for his straightforward approach.
Unlike the others, his combat style was refreshingly uncomplicated.
Grrrrr!
A man-faced hound lunged at Bran, sinking its teeth into his arm.
However, its fangs couldn’t pierce his armor.
While it held on, Bran’s massive wooden fist slammed into the creature’s head.
Bang!
The punch wasn’t fast or slow, but the sheer force behind it rivaled that of a giant.
The hound’s head burst in a single blow.
Bran’s combat strategy was simple.
’Take a hit, then land a hit.’
Woodguards were beings with bodies of bark, like impenetrable plate armor.
Their natural forms extended protection even to their eyes and internal organs.
After all, Woodguards were fairies born with wooden bodies.
’Do Woodguards even have internal organs?’
If the exterior couldn’t be penetrated, the inside could be destroyed—an instinctive thought, even when not in battle.
Eventually, Zero joined forces with the two fairies.
Though over twenty man-faced hounds emerged from the water, there was no need for Enkrid to intervene.
He merely observed the battle, which unexpectedly led to a small realization.
’Zero.’
That fairy didn’t swing their blade with thought but with instinct.
They shut off their mind and concealed their emotions, leaving only combat reflexes to guide them.
Watching Zero fight, it was clear—there was thought behind their actions.
It seemed impossible to harmonize instinctual combat reflexes with rational judgment.
And yet, they managed to do so.
’How is that even possible?’
In terms of experience, there was no one on the continent who could rival Enkrid.
His accelerated thoughts delved into the techniques of the fairies—more than observation, it was a near-obsessive analysis driven by curiosity.
This habit mirrored Ragna’s tendencies, except that while Ragna would understand techniques the moment he saw them, Enkrid had to dissect the reasons and processes behind them.
It didn’t take long.
Though his thoughts raced, the actual time spent was brief.
Enkrid came to understand the tactical reasoning behind the fairy’s movements.
’My method is accelerated thinking.’
To an observer, it might seem as though he processed dozens of thoughts simultaneously, but in reality, he thought sequentially—just at an abnormally fast pace.
However, the fairy’s approach was entirely different.
’In the right hand, the blade. In the left, spark.’
It was like wielding two swords simultaneously but different in a sense.
The fairy’s actions split their thought processes between their hands, effectively partitioning their mind.
Having observed it, Enkrid thought he could replicate it with some practice—not immediately, of course.
Unlike Ragna, he lacked the innate talent to master something instantly.
But he no longer wished for such talent.
Within him now was a seed of understanding, planted and ready to grow.
’Mastering something through years of effort makes it unforgettable. It also allows you to revisit and refine every part of the process.’
In simpler terms, it meant that a skill honed instinctively could also be understood theoretically.
Enkrid didn’t mind this approach—it was why he no longer envied raw talent.
"We need to find the stairs leading downward," Bran said after the fight.
The monsters kept coming—drowned corpses, manticores, and the like.
Though they had little time to rest, there were no significant threats.
The creatures weren’t as powerful as the manticores that had emerged earlier at the labyrinth’s entrance, nor were they colony-level threats.
The fairies could handle them, though it was taxing.
’Of course, stamina is still an issue.’
It was the sheer number of monsters that made things tedious.
Even simple, repetitive tasks become exhausting when unending.
Fel and Luagarne took turns fighting, and even Enkrid didn’t pause.
As they trudged through the labyrinth, the ground became increasingly uneven and slick with the remains of monsters.
Annoying creatures like blood-sucking flies and large leeches that tried to bite their shins also appeared.
The blood-sucking flies were particularly troublesome, causing relentless bleeding once they bit.
Avoiding bites was critical.
The fairies swung their blades with precision to eliminate the insects, but they seemed endless.
"These things caused trouble last time, too," Bran muttered.
Though unaffected by bites himself, he didn’t bother exterminating them aggressively—he simply swatted a few away.
Thwack.
Bran caught one fly and flung it against the wall, where it splattered into a mess of black blood and crushed flesh—not a pleasant sight.
Enkrid, too, swatted at the pests with his bare fists, refusing to draw his sword.
"How bothersome," Luagarne said, igniting her whip with flames.
The surroundings brightened as she swung it wide, creating a fiery gust that incinerated the flies mid-air.
The rotating whip generated heat akin to a fire spell.
Enkrid, intrigued by the display, couldn’t help but watch.
Sensing his gaze, Luagarne explained, "The utility of a magical weapon depends on how it’s used."
Even after clearing the flies, they walked for quite some time.
"It’s too vast," Fel remarked.
Bran nodded. "Finding the way will take two to three days, at least."
It was no wonder this place was called a labyrinth. Navigating it was a task in itself. Without Bran, they might have wandered even longer.
Eventually, after what felt like half a day, Bran spoke up.
"I’ve found it."
He hadn’t discovered the path by memory or studying the terrain but by observing the monsters’ behavior.
"Those creatures are guarding the stairs."
Ahead of them were several drowned corpses—unusual ones. They didn’t seem like ordinary creatures, and their numbers were substantial.
"They don’t stay dead when you kill them," Bran added.
The fairies visibly tensed.
Even Enkrid recognized these foes would be formidable.
Over the shoulders of the drowned corpses, faint, flickering forms were visible—shapeless beings of malign energy.
They were drowned corpses inhabited by malevolent spirits.

Comments

Loading...