Eternally Regressing Knight
Chapter 637: Chapter 637 - Winter and Spring
Children are easily drawn to things they find interesting.
Especially when it’s related to something they’ve preferred since childhood.
Since her early years, Shinar had enjoyed watching refined
More precisely, she loved seeing the process where iron changed as it was refined.
The combination of fire and metal, the entire process, always sparked her curiosity.
As a child, Shinar was so absorbed in the flames that it felt like she was intoxicated by them.
"What’s so great about this? We could go flower-viewing or visit Bran instead," her sister remarked.
On the other hand, her sister was the more ordinary one.
Like other children, she enjoyed viewing flowers and lying in the grass until her body absorbed its scent.
The concept of letting the scent of grass soak into the body was an important aspect of fairy life.
Lying in the grass, enjoying the fragrance of flowers, and watching the delicate wings of bees and butterflies as they gathered nectar—that was the life of a fairy.
During this time, fairies would play with friends and mentors, learning wisdom from them.
This was the fairy’s growth phase.
Fairy society chose a method of slow learning over time, rather than rigid, apprenticeship-style teaching.
It was about learning what to do and how to do it through play and enjoyment.
Since fairies lived much longer than humans, this method developed naturally.
Eventually, they learned emotional restraint, marking their transition to adulthood.
"Is that fun?" her sister asked, pouting.
She was still young, with emotions that hadn’t been tempered yet, and there was an innocence in her voice.
"If you just watch, it feels like anything could come out of it," Shinar replied.
Just as she finished speaking, the hammer moved.
Dang.
The hammer struck the metal.
In the fairy city, there was a family that specialized in working with metal.
They were the family that made leaf swords.
Before being acknowledged as a craftsman, one had to undergo training, making a few weapons or tools like single-edged swords.
What Shinar was watching was a trainee going through this process.
"Get too close, and sparks will fly," one of the trainees said.
His name was Aden.
He was Shinar’s first love.
Looking back, it was hard to tell whether she liked Aden or the fire he worked with, but as a child, Shinar truly believed she was in love with him.
It was a time when she didn’t know how to hide her feelings.
"You can just avoid the sparks," Shinar said.
"Fire doesn’t move the way I want it to."
"Then, I guess you’re still a trainee."
"That’s a rather challenging thing to say."
Aden was around the same age as Shinar, though it was clear she was born a little earlier.
However, the fairy culture didn’t involve categorizing people by their age like humans did with siblings.
Aden spoke in a manner far more mature than Shinar.
Was that maturity a result of dealing with fire, or was it just his nature?
Shinar wasn’t particularly curious about it.
She was born into a royal family, but in fairy society, being a "king" meant representing or protecting all the other fairies, not having free reign.
It was a position of duty and responsibility, with little personal gain.
There were no hierarchical structures as humans had.
However, all fairies knew she was of royal blood.
"Lord Kiraheis, why not go and ask the flowers for permission, then make a crown out of their bodies and enjoy the scent of the grass?" Aden made this teasing remark.
Shinar snorted in response.
For a young fairy, rolling around in the grass and flowers was similar to how humans splash around in warm water.
The only difference was that fairies enjoyed it far more.
In this regard, Shinar was a very unique fairy.
Even Aden, who worked with fire, would spend his breaks enjoying the sight of bees buzzing in the flowers and grass, while Shinar preferred watching the fire.
"What’s fun about that?" her sister muttered.
It was a time of immaturity.
Her sister went off to do her own thing, with no pressure to stay.
Fairy society often believed that each individual would come to understand the meaning of their own life in time.
Shinar waved her sister off and then asked Aden,
"Do you know of Igniculus?"
Dang!
Dang!
The loud clanging of metal continued, and after a few more strikes, Aden, who had been sweating in front of the furnace, answered.
"Do you think there’s a fairy who doesn’t know it?"
Fairies, after all, couldn’t refine metal under moonlight.
Naturally, they had furnaces and needed to handle fire, requiring fuel to keep it going.
The fuel was provided by the treants, with their sap and firewood which could keep flames burning for months—a mystery of alchemy.
Then there was
It was a term related to the furnace and the blacksmith family.
In the common language of the continent, it means "fire sparks" or "flashes."
Fairies lived long lives, usually in quiet, steady rhythms without major fluctuations.
But Igniculus referred to a time when a fairy blazed with passion—whether it was love or the pursuit of a goal.
Fairies were known for their calm demeanor, but during Igniculus, they burned brightly, growing and changing.
Some fairies likened it to the iron changing in the furnace.
Before learning emotional restraint, Shinar found the word beautiful.
Igniculus—"fire sparks."
She later decided to name the sword she would eventually receive after it, calling it "Ignis." It would be a sword of fire.
Yes, that’s how it happened.
One day, as a child intoxicated by flames, a secret friend approached her, offering companionship.
It all began with warmth.
No one knew, and thus, no one could prepare.
Because no one had prepared, no one could react.
Flame.
"Will you play with me?" The fire spoke.
A blazing orange flame flared up in the air, resembling a fire spirit.
Some fairies could communicate with spirits, and Shinar had been enchanted by flames since childhood.
So, this wasn’t so special.
That’s what everyone thought.
"It’s amazing," she said.
Her sister’s voice had become much calmer after learning emotional restraint, and so had Shinar’s.
"Yeah. I think so too."
When they recognized the existence of the fire, her sister said that.
The warmth had become their friend.
And that friend eventually turned into a raging inferno.
The friend who had come as warmth transformed into a disaster of fire.
It burned everything.
Her people, her friends, even the city where she had grown up.
The stench of burning wood filled the air.
It was a smell Shinar would never forget.
To a fairy, it was as potent as the smell of burning meat.
When a Driad burned, it smelled like the scent of burning grass.
A hellish gate opened in the fairy city.
"Aden."
"I’ll stop it."
Aden, now a master of fire, wielded a sword and charged.
A demon cloaked in flames overpowered and killed him.
The flames were so intense they blackened his body before he could even react.
The scent of burning grass, flowers, and trees mixed together as fairies died.
"Custos Akitos Respontsum."
A fairy adept at spirit magic stepped forward, attempting to stop the flames, but it was futile.
Water was poured in an attempt to douse the flames, but the fire didn’t subside.
Tragedy and despair fell upon the fairy city.
Shinar watched as the fire consumed the city.
Five of the treants burned alive.
Bran, too, had half of his body burned but barely survived.
A fire giant, at least five times the size of a fairy, rose and gazed around at those trying to stop it.
"I’ll leave now after playing with you. From now on, I’ll build my home here. Let’s live together, children of wood and flowers. I am the one you call a demon." The demon spoke, pretending to be friendly and caring.
It was clear who the "friend" it referred to was.
"This is a curse."
Just because they had learned emotional restraint and never told lies didn’t mean their hearts were pure and strong.
Some fairies, broken and weak from losing their children, friends, and lovers, blamed Shinar.
Shinar couldn’t blame them.
In fact, she wasn’t even capable of blaming anyone at the time.
She couldn’t understand most of what was happening.
Why?
Why was this happening?
"It’s not your fault."
Her father decisively said this.
"Yes, this is our responsibility, nothing more." Her mother had said it.
No.
It was the result of her own intoxication with the flames that had caused it.
There was a time when she was consumed by self-blame, a time when her words were lost, and she went years without speaking.
Kiraheis.
If that was interpreted, it would mean "to protect," she had said.
Sinar’s parents were responsible for driving out the demon from their city.
Her father wielded a bow, and her mother wielded a sword, becoming a fairy knight that year, mastering techniques that controlled spiritual energy.
"Daughter. It’s not your fault."
Her mother repeated this familiar phrase daily before drawing her sword.
Where did the demon that burned everything come from?
She didn’t know.
But it seemed that the demon came because of Shinar.
Everyone said so, and Shinar herself felt that way, so it seemed like the truth.
"Cursed fairy."
"Leave."
Once a fairy’s heart is shattered, their accusations never cease.
And the parents who set off to kill the demon never returned.
"Shinar, you don’t have to live like this. Do you understand? None of what happened here is your fault."
Her sister urged Sinar to cast off the burden of duty before picking up her sword and mastering techniques that controlled spiritual energy.
In between calm and quiet life, sparks flew.
In a flash Igniculus.
Her sister’s name was Naira Kiraheis, and she sparked with the flame of talent.
Thus, she became a fairy knight and set off to kill the demon but failed.
Sinar had no sensitivity to spirits.
All that remained for her was to train her body.
At this point, her technique with spiritual energy was weak.
"It’s all your fault. Everything is because of you."
The broken fairies’ curses pierced her skin, etching a mark upon her soul.
Her father, mother, and sister died.
The demon created a labyrinth, and her sister’s sword was plunged into it.
The sword Naira had carried was the sword of spring.
She was a fairy like spring itself, an embodiment of the scent of flowers and grass.
Shinar picked up Naira’s sword.
"There is no duty. Go out and live your life."
"If you leave, it’s over."
"Don’t do something foolish, Shinar."
"Let’s wear the shackles of duty."
"Blame won’t change anything. The important thing is what we do next."
"The demon asked for a bride."
"Shinar?"
"He wants another fairy!"
"Impossible."
Many words were exchanged, but Shinar had no answers for them.
She simply recalled her duty.
In that space, there was no room for personal dreams, hopes, or desires.
"To defeat the demon."
The next fairy knight who challenged The Labyrinth was Arzila.
She led the remaining forces of the city into battle against the demon.
Shinar was among them.
They entered the labyrinth and saw him.
"It’s you."
Those were the words the demon spoke when it saw her.
How terrifying was it to face a monster with reason.
"If you run, I’ll catch and torture everyone, one by one. I’ll pluck out their eyes, tear out nails, slice their skin apart and send you their mangled corpses as a gift. So go ahead, little fairy. Run. The thought of finally finding you and handing you a gift fills me with a thrilling joy. Yes, if you don’t want that, I’m sure you could find another way, but I don’t know what that is." The demon’s whispers were cruel, harsh, and savage.
"What I desire is for you to be my companion."
Even if the whispers were full of lies, Shinar had no choice.
Then the demon changed into flames and whispered like a friend.
"I’ve thought of a way to save you. Bring me a companion. A companion to replace you." A way to replace her duty, a means to buy time.
Shinar had to find a new companion for the demon and offer them to the demon.
Otherwise, she could only throw away her own stubborn life to give the remaining fairies a chance.
Shinar wasn’t a fool.
Even if she went to the demon’s side to be its bride, it wouldn’t spare the other fairies.
In other words, all she could offer was a temporary reprieve.
And still, there was no choice.
Despair descended, wrapping around her shoulders like a heavy cloak.
Within the tangled threads of despair, Shinar tried to find a way.
She left the city to search for a companion.
To be honest, she wasn’t truly seeking one.
If she truly faced herself, she might admit she craved a momentary escape from her nightmare.
Perhaps she intended to leave to the demon’s side, dance her last dance, and leave behind some memories before the end.
The demon would enjoy seeing her discouraged if she brought a companion, and it would relish her despair if she failed to find one.
So perhaps it had given her this chance for a brief escape.
In that time of reprieve, granted by the demon, she was fortunate enough to create a memory.
"Who is the squad leader of 444?" She remembered the first time she saw him.
His name was Enkrid.
At first, he was just a somewhat peculiar human.
He was interesting to watch.
He was someone whose desires seemed utterly absurd.
It was enjoyable to watch him move forward.
"Be careful with fire."
Fire burns everything, after all.
Enkrid tilted his head at those words and appeared somewhat troubled at her joke.
Time passed.
The reprieve granted by the demon was drawing to an end.
Shinar had no choice.
"Are you really not going to marry me?" She already knew Enkrid’s answer.
It was rejection.
In fact, even if he had wanted to, she would have refused.
’I can’t kill this man.’
In other words, she had nothing to offer to avoid the demon’s gaze.
The only thing left was to accept its proposal.
At most twenty years, at least five.
She would become the demon’s bride.
Then, when it grew bored, it would devour her down to the bone.
Wait for that moment.
With a firm and resolute mindset, like Will, the blade of will does not break.
It was just a fight to endure until the day it was needed.
When any semblance of regret appeared, the whispers of the evil spirit would bring forth feelings of remorse.
It was right for her to not be easily shaken, given her emotional restraint, but when she faced the man before her, her heart swayed like a small boat caught in a storm.
The boat could flip at any moment.
Then, Enkrid’s voice pierced through her thoughts.
’Just because you’ve lived long doesn’t mean today is different from any other day.’ ’Yes, you’re right.’ Shinar agreed.
The life the fairies sought wasn’t wrong.
However, when a crisis approaches, shouldn’t they adapt and act accordingly?
Was it right to simply wait when an arrow is already in flight?
Even though they had been leisurely, should they remain calm and let it happen?
That was wrong.
If they knew, they should have immediately avoided or blocked it.
When they realized the demon’s presence, they should have fought with everything they had at that moment.
’I’ve become complacent.’
The fairy city had lived a life unrelated to the labyrinth.
They had lived calmly with minimal restraints, and such a life had dulled their sense of crisis.
’I shouldn’t have done that.’ They should have lived like fire.
Like flames.
Igniculus, they should have fought like sparks.
It was only after meeting Enkrid that she was able to see clearly.
In the lake of flames, where life felt like drowning and burning, she found clarity, and her sense of perception expanded. ’That’s how I’ve come this far.’ She would fight like a spark.
She raised the blade of will.
However, to make a spark burn, something was needed.
It could be called fate, but it could also be described as the will to create that moment.
If one believed it was fate, they would wait for that moment.
If one believed it was will, they would bring it about themselves.
Shinar, with her will solidified, met Enkrid like fate and sparked a fire.
During the time spent together, she kindled the spiritual energy.
Now, she was prepared to wait, holding her breath with the spark inside her.
’Everything could have been delayed.’
She had convinced herself that she didn’t want anything, but now there was a person before her, someone with whom no lie or deception could work.
"Did you not find being with me fun?" Enkrid asked again.
’Persistent fool.’
Shinar couldn’t help but smile.
Memories flooded her mind.
Her friends who burned to death, the city, her father, mother, and sister who died for her.
When at her lowest, Enkrid intervened.
Rem babbled nonsense, Ragna lost his way, and Audin prayed.
Krais grumbled, and Teresa sang.
On one side, Ropord and Fel argued, while Luagarne stood by Enkrid, rolling her frog-like protruding eyes.
They were memories like a roof that shields one from the dreary rain.
Yes, it was enjoyable to see you become a knight.
The silly jokes, drinking tea, eating, sparring, and training—all were enjoyable.
Shinar thought to herself.
’You were spring. The only spring in my life, which had been nothing but winter.’ The spring she felt in her soul spoke to her. ’I want to do something,’ it said. It wasn’t a suggestion — it was a demand.
An oppression.
It insisted she speak out.
Shinar had seen what the devil had prepared when she arrived.
The creature had no vocal cords left.
All that remained was a sword to slash enemies and a body to shape monsters.
And so, she knew.
It was impossible to win.
It would be right to say, "Go back."
"I want to spar."
But sometimes, the body doesn’t obey.
When one desires something desperately, words come out without thinking.
And so, Shinar’s mouth opened.
"I want to sit by a bonfire and throw out silly jokes."
The wish she held in her heart came out through her words.

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