Eternally Regressing Knight
Chapter 661: Chapter 661 - Fruit and Shadows
"Hmm? Should I call you a lord or a noble...?"
It all started with a fruit vendor.
"The lord is Graham, and I’m the captain of the knight order."
Enkrid casually responded to the merchant’s words, his demeanor one of familiarity.
"Then, Captain, have one of these."
With a sly expression, the fruit vendor handed him two plums.
Enkrid popped one into his mouth and handed the other to the ragged saint in his group.
The saint blinked his cloudy eyes, took the plum, and bit into it.
The flesh split with a satisfying crunch, and the sourness blended with a hidden sweetness that
swirled in his mouth.
The fragrance of the perfectly ripe plum filled the air.
"Tastes good."
Enkrid said.
"Yes."
The ragged saint agreed.
It was a luxury they could enjoy thanks to the large orchard recently established inside Green
Pearl.
The reason why a noble in charge of orchards near the kingdom’s capital, Nauril, existed was
precisely to enjoy such fruits.
It wasn’t an exaggeration to call it a luxury.
Passing by a bustling area where peddlers gathered, one merchant with a stall called out to them.
"I’m now with the Rockfreed Trading Company."
This was no ordinary merchant.
It was the giant who referred to himself as a peddler.
Enkrid showed the cloth wrapped around his hand.
"This one’s sturdy."
It was a cloth gauntlet with a thin layer of leather on the inside to shape it, made from fabric the
giant had sold him earlier.
"Wouldn’t expect anything less. I don’t sell shabby goods."
The giant replied, his voice booming, and the ragged saint, who had no real place to intervene,
simply watched from the side.
"What are you selling today?"
Enkrid asked.
"Stuff like this."
The giant spread out various items on his stall, including charms and rings imbued with ominous
energy.
"They say this ring has a curse that brings nightmares every night, but it can stop one unlucky
event from happening."
The giant’s voice drew the attention of passersby.
Enkrid observed the items the giant showed.
He could sense a faint energy that hadn’t been there before.
’Is it because I’ve been training with Esther?’
It was probably also because of the experience in dealing with magic like the Walking Fire.
Just as the giant had said, there was a certain energy emanating from the ring.
If one looked closely, dark mist seemed to lightly surround it, though others couldn’t see it.
While wandering the continent, one would occasionally come across small pioneer villages,
some of which had the good fortune of not being overrun by monsters.
However, some villages had to endure attacks from small numbers of monsters.
Among such villages, there were those who traded with nearby mages or witches.
The ring likely came from such sources.
It wasn’t hard to guess.
As expected, the giant briefly revealed the item’s origin, but there was a hint of him talking more
than usual.
For some reason, this giant friend seemed unusually talkative.
Had he ever been this detailed before?
"I don’t think I need it."
Enkrid replied indifferently.
If he had needed such an item, he would have asked Esther.
"I thought so."
"Then why are you explaining about it?"
The giant sat down on the ground, yet his height still matched Enkrid’s.
He lowered his head and whispered.
"To let others hear."
Because of his appearance and race, people generally avoided him, making it hard to do
business, so he was taking advantage of Enkrid being present.
’He’s turned into quite the merchant.’
Of course, the giant wouldn’t stray from his principles.
That’s just who he was.
"You’ve gotten better at this."
Enkrid said in a whisper, and the giant nodded.
"Now go."
"Alright. I’m off."
Enkrid continued to meet others.
The ragged saint noticed that he seemed to have a rather close relationship with the innkeeper
located in the city center.
"How’s it going, sir? If you haven’t had a meal, please have a bowl with us."
The innkeeper, named Allen, greeted him.
He dreamed of surpassing Vanessa’s pumpkin soup with his own, and lately, he had been selling
chicken soup with a message about his grandmother making it for her when she caught a cold.
Thanks to this, his business was doing quite well.
While it didn’t sell as much as Vanessa’s pumpkin soup, pie, and juice, it wasn’t something to
complain about.
With the stability from the safety route, commerce had flourished, and since the Rockfreed
Trading Company established a commercial city, Border Guard had also become prosperous
with abundant goods.
Allen had been benefiting from this as well.
’And with Green Pearl farming too.’
The ragged saint had seen and heard enough.
Despite his poor eyesight, he could observe things well when he was close, especially within
such a group.
After all, he always considered himself someone who paid more attention to the little details
rather than the big picture.
He was more interested in the lives of the people living within the city than the political standing
of the city itself.
’It’s really prosperous, really.’
The saint thought to himself as he observed the city.
The recent absence of small skirmishes with Aspen had helped, and the vast plains were being
used for farming without the threat of monster attacks.
The regular patrols along the Pen-Hanil Mountain Range and the Stone Road linking to the west
had also helped.
All of this had contributed to the city’s wealth.
However, as with all things, where there is light, there is shadow.
The ragged saint knew well the balance of the world.
And that shadow was just beginning to show its face.
A Frog, a rare sight with a scarred body, was approaching with a distinctive white scar on its
neck.
Was he thinking of picking a fight?
Or was he coveting the precious metals draped around his body?
Or perhaps he was a bounty hunter after him.
’Or maybe it’s the blade prepared by the Holy Kingdom?’
No, it wasn’t.
"It’s been a while."
The Frog approaching greeted him as if they knew each other.
Enkrid stared at him for a while before speaking.
"...Melon?"
"It’s Maellun. Have you already forgotten my name?"
"Ah, right. Maellun."
Even though he had casually altered his name, the Frog didn’t show any displeasure.
This was surprising for the ragged saint, but it was entirely normal for Maellun.
No matter how much one provoked him, he’d be killed by a single sword strike.
Forgetting a name was nothing.
Maellun was a Frog, and as such, he remained true to his desires.
A modest victory and a sense of accomplishment were enough for him.
That’s why his current life was satisfying.
Following Maellun, a bald man emerged who looked like he’d walk around the back alleys,
trying to put on a little show.
He came out from a dark alleyway between tightly packed houses.
The sunlight reflected off his head.
"Captain."
He approached and called out to Enkrid.
"Gilpin."
Enkrid immediately recognized him.
"Why do you remember his name?"
Maellun mumbled under his breath.
No one paid it much mind, though.
"Are you looking for something?"
The man named Gilpin asked.
"No. Just taking a walk."
Only then did the bald man’s gaze brush over the ragged saint.
What he wore would have been tempting for a pickpocket.
However, there was no hint of greed in his eyes.
The ragged saint, though his sight wasn’t great, had extremely sharp hearing.
While he couldn’t use a resonance technique, his hearing was so developed that he could hear
whispers from a distance.
With his hearing so sharp, his ability to observe people with his instincts became a strength.
He watched Enkrid and the man beside him, Gilpin, and felt no malice or greed from them.
Despite their appearance, they were likely working for some criminal guild—or at least a group
of similar standing.
His experience from years of wandering told him so, though the man had no interest in him at all.
"Nothing going on?"
"With Vengeance around, what could possibly go wrong?"
Though his words sounded casual, Gilpin did a lot for the city.
The information guild organized by Krais fell under his jurisdiction, and he also managed to
prevent accidents within the city.
As a result, Gilpin had lost weight, his cheeks hollowed out.
It was a natural outcome for anyone working under Krais, though the compensation wasn’t
small, and Gilpin was satisfied with his current life.
These were things the ragged saint couldn’t understand, and so the situation felt rather unusual to
him.
’Interesting. Very interesting.’
After some time observing the city, Enkrid headed toward the barracks where tents had been set
up.
The ragged saint quietly followed, observing from behind.
He then spoke as if it were an afterthought.
"I’m taking care of war orphans. Would it be okay to build a monastery in the city for that
purpose?"
It could be a difficult request, but for Enkrid, who had recently decided to move the fairy tribe’s
village, it was nothing too challenging.
"Go ahead."
There was no hesitation in his response.
"It will cost some money though."
"Didn’t you intend to sell what you’re wearing?"
"Don’t say that. Why don’t you help cover it?"
"Well, if it’s like that, you know Krais, right? The guy with the big eyes who gets angry when
you ask him for Krona. Just go ask him."
"Am I supposed to help children with a few gold coins?"
"Are you just like those gray church guys?"
What is this guy?
The ragged saint blinked his cloudy eyes a few times.
He spoke with the sharpness of someone who could think.
"There are a lot of people hurt because of those fools."
"Then do something about it."
"That’s beyond my abilities."
"Fine, build your monastery."
The conversation bounced back and forth, but the ragged saint felt a strange sense of pleasure
from it.
Within the condensed dialogue, everything that needed to be communicated was clear.
What was this?
The ragged saint had come to see Audin’s chosen path.
He knew his adopted son was walking a thorny road, that he wasn’t someone easily influenced,
and that there were scars inside Audin.
It would be a lie to say he wasn’t proud of his son for overcoming all of that and becoming a
better man.
However, there was one thing that still bothered him—why was he staying here instead of
returning to the temple?
’Enkrid.’
This man was the answer.
The saint had heard a lot about him while staying here.
He had heard stories of those who had saved him, of those who lived each day without wasting
it, and of knights calling for the end of war and slaying demons.
He had learned much about Enkrid, but what was more important was that Enkrid was unlike
anyone he had met before.
’What’s different about him?’
His thoughts, his will, the way he walked—they were all different.
"What do you want?"
All the questions he had condensed into one burst. Enkrid didn’t have to think much before
answering.
"For now, I just want to use my techniques as naturally as water flows."
"What?"
The ragged saint asked, confused.
"I’ve developed a system, and now I have a specialty. But I want to go beyond this and see what
else I can achieve, although I don’t have talent, so I have to work on it one step at a time. For
now, yes, it’s learning to swing the sword as smoothly as water flows. Hm, as I’m talking, I’m
starting to figure out what I need to do. After the Wave-Breaking Sword, it will be the Flowing
Sword. Ah, not a wave sword, but a flow sword. Like a stream that never stops, not a well that
doesn’t dry."
He couldn’t understand a single word.
Although his body had been trained in his youth, his skill level wasn’t that high.
So, he really couldn’t understand anything at all.
"Huh?"
The beggar saint asked again.
"It helped. Audin said not to go at it too badly and that if I had any concerns, it would help. And,
well, it really did."
Enkrid continued speaking as if he was absorbed in something.
"Hm?"
"Shouldn’t you be teaching Seiki after all."
"Hmm?"
By the time they arrived at the military camp, Enkrid immediately began to swing his sword.
It didn’t seem appropriate to keep talking now.
He was deep into his world.
The beggar saint, known for wearing many valuables meant for charity for an orphanage, stood
still watching Enkrid’s training.
After a while, Audin approached and asked.
"Did you have a good trip?"
The beggar saint paused for a moment and then asked.
"Why is he acting like that?"
"Is something wrong?"
"He suddenly started talking about a flowing stream or something and then started swinging his
sword."
"Oh, that’s just how he is."
"Just how he is?"
"Yes, that’s right."
While wandering the world, meeting and helping people, the beggar saint realized something.
’Madman.’
He finally understood why the order was called that.

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