Eternally Regressing Knight
Chapter 639: Chapter 639 - Two Swords
The One-Hit Demon creates some distance.
Just two steps, neither too long nor too short.
It’s like having half a breath to exhale, if one had to compare.
In reality, once the clash starts, there will be no time to breathe, so the phrase "half a breath" might not be entirely fitting.
Enkrid didn’t attempt to close the distance the Demon had created.
In other words, he didn’t chase after it.
Instead, he made full use of the time given.
He reflected on the question and answer, reinterpreting the situation through intuition, and pulling out the necessary tools from his library of experience.
It was a task that took time, both in words and in practice, but rapid cognition was the means by which it all happened at once.
So first, it was about the question.
’Is this a moment when I need rest?’
It was a question for self-reflection.
A good method for looking objectively at oneself.
’I’d be better off with rest.’
He couldn’t claim to be at his best due to lack of proper rest.
But it wasn’t necessarily required.
’This isn’t bad.’
Self-check completed.
What’s next?
’Let’s observe the situation before fighting. Don’t just charge in like a madman.’
That was what Krais had said.
Enkrid picked up only what he wanted and needed from Krais’ words.
’Look at the surroundings before fighting.’
That wasn’t exactly the intended meaning, but the point is, it worked.
Going further, if it helps, all the better.
Not disregarding the environment, something Luagarne had always emphasized.
This had already been done before the One-Hit Demon had shown up.
’Hard stone floor, heavy air, pressure created by the demonic magic, the corpse of a monster I killed before, black blood pooled on one side, a wide open space with no other structures.
It’s a giant arena carved from stone, perfect for a battle.
The only things that could be in the way are...’
A group of fairies including Shinar, a Frog, and maybe one human.
I can’t throw projectiles, and if the One-Hit Demon targets them, I’ll have to keep them within the scope of protection.
’There’s nothing in my favor.’
Right, everything is unfavorable.
And maybe that’s what makes it more enjoyable.
Enkrid couldn’t help but smile faintly.
To anyone looking at him, it would seem the smile of a madman, but for Enkrid, observing himself, it felt perfectly natural.
For someone obsessed with enjoying the fight and improving their skills, an opportunity like this was bound to be a delight.
’A fight you can’t win should be fought only after securing favorable conditions.’
That was something Abnaier had said.
’Secure the advantage before fighting.’
He was advising to create a favorable situation, but right now, that seemed difficult.
So, it would be better to reduce the disadvantage.
Abnaier had repeated:
’Yes, if not, then do whatever it takes. Bring in any advantage you can, no matter what, and fight.’
This was the answer Enkrid had arrived at, after thoroughly considering extreme scenarios.
Thoughts continued to flow through his mind.
There were bold moves and lukewarm ones.
Enkrid pulled out what he needed from the library of experience.
’It would be great if I could shake the enemy’s composure through provocation.’
But there were no emotional elements in the enemy to provoke.
The Demon seemed more emotionless than the Scoundrel.
So provocation would be useless.
The Demon began to move.
Its body, glowing orange, slid across the ground, changing foot positions and lowering its blade-arm.
To someone who didn’t know, it seemed like a meaningless motion, but Enkrid saw purpose in it.
If life were to be symbolized as a candle’s flame being snuffed out, this would be the motion.
Let’s look deeper into the enemy, analyze, and observe it more clearly, as if seeing the essence of the enemy in a shorter sentence.
’It’s like a finely sharpened blade.’
It appeared that way because of what the Demon possessed.
What it possessed was blind, purposeless killing intent.
Its only purpose was to kill, and nothing else.
A collection of killing intent.
A self-moving tool filled only with malice.
Enkrid defined the enemy.
By defining it, he predicted its response.
’It will slice, stab, and kill everything in its path.’
The enemy would do that, no matter who they were.
By defining the enemy, Enkrid could read its intentions, and it was time to recall useful experiences.
Thud.
Enkrid did something that seemed meaningless.
He lifted his foot and slammed it onto the ground.
The forceful step caused cracks to form around the point of impact, and dust from shattered stone billowed up.
"Look at me, you damn bastard."
Enkrid spoke as he feigned a sword strike.
Exuding Will, he created a false aura of pressure.
Even a Demon couldn’t help but react to the condensed energy.
He lowered the tip of his real sword, pointing it at the enemy.
It was a verbal and physical statement—send your killing intent my way.
Focus on me!
The Demon did just that.
It was caught by the intention.
Its killing intent transformed into needle-like precision and focused entirely on Enkrid.
This was visible in the sixth sense, beyond the five senses.
The taut bowstring seemed to point directly at his forehead.
Enkrid’s lips quivered, curling into a smile.
It wasn’t the feeling of fear, but pure pleasure running through him.
’A favorable advantage.’
He had made the enemy focus solely on him.
That alone was enough to offset the disadvantage.
He could fight while protecting what needed to be protected.
Not only was he pleased that his intent worked, but he was also happy the enemy recognized him as an equal.
Such an enemy couldn’t ignore him.
All the time and effort spent had paid off.
Endless euphoria surged within him.
The rush was so intense that it almost felt like his brain was drowning in pleasure.
Boom!
The sound came as the Demon kicked the ground and swung its blade.
The heavy air, the blade, and the power of the strike fell toward Enkrid’s head.
He sensed it and blocked.
Thud!
Before the clash of blades, it was as though he had already heard the sound.
Will surged throughout his body, giving him unprecedented insight into the future.
The Demon’s sword came from the right.
Immediately after, the left sword transformed into a sharp strike and rushed toward him.
Enkrid twisted his left ankle outward, performing a feat beyond what a normal human could.
His ankle joint stretched beyond its usual range, creating an awkward-looking movement, but Enkrid still kept his balance.
The result was that his body twisted sideways, narrowly avoiding the sword.
But Enkrid didn’t just avoid.
As he dodged, his left hand shot out, and sparks flew as he stabbed at the Demon’s neck.
Thud!
It was blocked.
Swords, killing intent, and malice danced between them, flames of intent soaring with each attack and defense.
Clash!
Clash!
Clash!
Blades met, sparks flying in the air.
The true sword and the sparks of Will met like long-separated lovers, parting and reuniting in a dangerous embrace.
Accelerated cognition kept stimulating Enkrid’s mind.
’No openings.’
The enemy’s intentions weren’t easy to read.
It wasn’t thinking and moving; it was reacting based on instantaneous judgment.
A strategic advantage could be gained, but it would be hard to leave a scratch.
And that was true for Enkrid as well.
Neither of them had received a wound yet.
From an outside perspective, the battle seemed close to impossible feats, but to them, everything was happening in an instant.
Even the movement of joints beyond their normal range or the ability to stab with just arm strength as they pulled back from a dodge.
The enemy wasn’t a knight.
But it fought as well as one.
No wonder this was thrilling.
Clang!
After 187 sword strikes, the exchange was over.
The explanation might be long, but the actual battle didn’t last long.
Enkrid took his chance.
As the One-Hit Demon crossed its legs, slashing with the left sword horizontally and thrusting the right sword in an angular motion, Enkrid knew this was a familiar strike, almost like the Valen-style duets.
Enkrid pretended to parry, then crushed the rhythm the Demon had created.
He faked a block with his left hand, then discarded his sword, delaying the enemy’s judgment speed.
This was the beginning.
It could be called madness.
Reason had been thrown away like nothing.
Why, instead of holding the sword in hand, try to block the blade with bare hands?
The demon, whose murderous intent was focused, continued to make rational choices without fail.
Its thought process was bound to be that way.
Hence, such madness could still be effective.
It was the result of accelerated thinking.
Although it wasn’t a perfect solution, it wasn’t entirely wrong either.
Since the enemy’s thinking hadn’t slowed down, it was still not the correct answer.
Enkrid grabbed the blade with his hand and held firm, but the rough sound of his gauntlet grinding against the sword’s edge meant that the demon’s sword, extended by force, had indeed pierced his belly.
However, at the last moment, he twisted his waist just enough to avoid having his intestines pierced.
Then, the Silver sword struck, intercepting the demon’s horizontally swung sword and hitting its neck.
Thud, flick, crack!
It all happened in an instant.
’The skills are about the same.’
If they fought again, no one could claim with certainty who would win.
Hence, he judged that taking the risk was in his favor.
’The advantageous position.’
He chose the advantageous position again.
By deciding the moment of the confrontation, he could project his intention first.
Enkrid, knowing that their skills were about the same, realized that if the demon split its strength between both arms, it wouldn’t be able to block the Silver sword that was fully charged.
Out of nowhere, despite the hole in his abdomen and the demon’s neck being cut off, Enkrid realized that fighting with swords in both hands against truly strong enemies was something he should never do.
The demon in front of him was proof of that.
’What if only one arm held a sword?’
He would have lost.
Looking at it this way, it wasn’t a matter of equal skill but rather that the demon was slightly superior.
Anyway, he won, and that much should be acknowledged.
"It’s not over."
Shinar shouted.
Her voice didn’t get louder, but it was clearly urgent enough to pierce his ears.
The demon swung his sword, pulling it back and striking again.
Enkrid reflexively jumped back.
The sword that had pierced his abdomen withdrew quickly, and blood surged from the wound.
’It’s not fatal.’
There was bleeding, so he couldn’t fight for long, but he could still engage in another confrontation if necessary.
He could endure by tightening his muscles to reduce the bleeding.
It was a technique Audin had taught him—muscle tightening.
He could still fight, and he had to.
But then an unexpected problem arose.
What was this?
Enkrid felt poison spreading from the wound in his abdomen.
Honestly, he couldn’t even tell if it was poison, but something was spreading throughout his body, consuming him rapidly.
It felt like drinking cold water on an empty stomach, the sensation of the liquid reaching his stomach.
Similarly, something was coursing through his body, killing him from within.
Even from the outside, the change in Enkrid was obvious.
His eyes bubbled, and their color turned red, like blood.
"Enki!"
Luagarne’s cry could be heard.
Sounds of a sword being drawn and fairies charging could also be heard, but Enkrid’s vision was darkening, and his sight was submerged in black water.
"Ah, the bastard only needed to scratch you once."
Shinar’s words echoed.
The actions taken by the One-Hit Demon so far flashed in his mind.
Accelerated thinking quickly provided the answer.
The One-Hit Demon had only needed to cause a scratch from the beginning.
It didn’t matter if its head was cut off; it wouldn’t die from it.
Enkrid now understood the nature of the demon’s ability.
’Even a mere brush will kill the opponent.’
It felt like poison seeping into his body, but it wasn’t truly poison.
If it were, his body would have resisted, and he wouldn’t be dying so helplessly.
’That’s why it had two swords.’
It was never necessary to have just one sword.
Instead, it seemed that the demon had hidden other weapons in its body.
His thoughts were cut short as he felt something dripping from his eyes and an intense pain shot from his head down to his toes, as if his skull was being crushed.
The blackout began.
Death was near.
It felt like drowning in the black water, headfirst.
The river of death welcomed him.
Splash—
The river’s owner.
The owner of the river didn’t smile, but it seemed like he was smiling.
To Enkrid, that was how it appeared.
The river’s owner spoke.
"Welcome, prisoner. This prison will be quite enjoyable."
And it was true.
Enkrid reflexively nodded.
Right now, there was no answer in sight.
The wall blocking his way was black, high, dark, and thick.
But because of that, he agreed with the statement that it was enjoyable.
The higher the wall, the greater the thrill of overcoming it.
"What else is there to say?"
Enkrid answered.
The ferryman was not surprised.
It had expected this from Enkrid.
"Right, go ahead and do it again."
Thus, there was no need for a long conversation.
The ferryman waved his hand, signaling for him to leave.
Enkrid returned to the world illuminated by violet lamps.
Today would repeat.
The demon, the warden, would soon lock him up again in the prison waiting for him.
He opened his eyes in the dark corridor, the moment just before meeting Shinar, when he had briefly dozed off and met the ferryman.
Now that he thought about it, the ferryman seemed to have planned it out.
It seemed he intentionally set this time as the starting point of today.
Whether he had done so intentionally or not, it didn’t matter to Enkrid.
If he were the kind of person to give up in the face of bleak situations, he wouldn’t have made it this far.
It didn’t matter what traps the ferryman had laid.
If he couldn’t change it himself, it meant nothing to him.
So, things were just as usual.
"Let’s go."
Enkrid greeted the new day with the same attitude as always.

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