Eternally Regressing Knight
Chapter 689: Chapter 688 - Reunion
Enkrid also had experience working as both a guide and a bounty hunter.
It was a time when he would do anything to earn krona.
But that didn’t mean he had learned the job half-heartedly.
Reading the tracks on dirt paths or broken branches to determine direction was second nature to him.
Moreover, someone had deliberately bent branches
upward
to mark the path.
They must have adjusted it midway through.
Branches don’t naturally bend upward when someone runs past them—they should snap downward or forward instead.
At regular intervals, every thirty paces by an adult male’s stride, bent branches marked the way.
A skilled guide had left them behind as a courtesy to those following.
That made tracking easy.
The three ahead couldn’t possibly be faster than Enkrid, who was running alone.
Ragna, after all, was carrying Anne, which would limit his movements.
However, a question lingered—had something happened to the group that had gone ahead?
Did they prepare another trick?
Enkrid wondered as he ran.
Had the mage predicted that the group would change course?
If so, then a large-scale spell designed to obscure their sense of direction might be waiting for them.
Would there be another barrier in place?
He didn’t know.
He’d only find out once he got there.
He kept moving, but in the back of his mind, he continued reviewing past battles and following his own curiosity.
Swordsmanship.
There was nothing Enkrid could do about it.
He had just conceived the idea of calculated swordsmanship.
And if there was calculated swordsmanship, then naturally, there had to be instinctual swordsmanship as well.
Interesting.
A shiver of excitement ran through him.
Something new was approaching, and it wasn’t far off.
The thought thrilled him to the point of madness.
If I keep dying of excitement and repeating today, what would the ferryman say?
It wasn’t like the ferryman had actually appeared and spoken, but he almost thought he heard a voice.
"...Are you seriously saying that?"
Perhaps he would get to see the ferryman’s bewildered expression.
Regardless, dividing things into calculation and instinct made the differences among his unit members clearer.
Audin and Jaxen rely on calculation.
They always assessed the situation, considered all variables, and planned accordingly.
In contrast, Ragna and Rem follow their instincts more.
They didn’t bother analyzing or accounting for every possibility.
Instead, they adapted everything to work in their favor.
And if he were to add one more category, Shinar was different from all of them.
The fairy sought balance and used the enemy’s strength against them.
A versatile type.
Shinar compensated for the drawbacks of versatility by utilizing the opponent’s power.
Winter Mountain Breeze.
Her sword was the harmony of calculation and instinct.
He still vividly remembered the swordsmanship Shinar had displayed after returning from the fairy village’s relocation.
Back then, he hadn’t fully understood it.
But now, he did.
She read part of my movements and relied on instinct for the rest.
Looking at it this way, Shinar seemed like the most exceptional among them.
"There is no such thing as a perfect person. It’s just a matter of who is sharper."
Jaxen’s words came to mind, and Enkrid agreed.
In the end, the sharper one wins.
Shinar and Jaxen’s perspectives would be useful later.
For now, Enkrid knew what he had to do.
Instinctual swordsmanship.
After mastering calculated swordsmanship, he would develop this next.
Rather than hiding his specialty, he would have two distinct ones.
And this thought was the answer to the question he had posed to himself after his sparring session with Audin before setting out.
"Nothing to worry about, right?"
Magrun adjusted his running pace as he spoke, directing his question toward Enkrid, who had stayed behind.
The night was still long.
There was a high probability that this ambush wouldn’t be the last.
That was Magrun’s assessment.
Be it spells, sorcery, or monsters—something was bound to block their path again.
That much was obvious.
It wasn’t that he doubted Enkrid’s ability.
But since they couldn’t yet determine who was orchestrating this, he felt uneasy.
It was Ragna who answered instead.
"He’s better off back there than I would’ve been. He looked like he was having fun."
When Enkrid was excited, he fought even better.
And he wasn’t the type to lose sight of his objective just because he was enjoying the fight.
Magrun had observed Enkrid for two months.
Yeah, that’s true.
Even in just two months, Enkrid had proved himself enough to make such a statement believable.
Though Magrun still felt a vague sense of concern, he knew that no matter how skilled the Scalers were, their numbers weren’t enough to deal with a knight.
That much was certain.
And to Magrun, Enkrid wasn’t just an ordinary knight.
"That was the best decision at the time," said Grida.
Even she found it somewhat remarkable.
In hindsight, Enkrid always seemed to make the best choice in the shortest amount of time.
He’s like someone who has faced similar situations countless times before.
Her guess wasn’t entirely off.
Enkrid had made countless decisions within the repetitions of
today
Some days, he had to make crucial choices in an incredibly short time.
His ability to make quick, precise judgments was one of the skills he had gained through his repeated experiences.
Grida, unaware of this, simply saw it as Enkrid’s natural talent.
In any case, if the whole group had fought together earlier, they would have only been delayed further.
If the monsters had split their forces and pursued us instead, it would’ve been even easier to handle.
They still had plenty of strength left.
Grida and Magrun were both here.
If Magrun had another episode due to his illness, it would be troublesome, but for now, there was no sign of that.
In short, by choosing to stay behind without hesitation, Enkrid had prevented any delays and had forced the monsters into a decision.
Without a colony leader to command them, the Scalers wouldn’t have been able to execute a coordinated strategy.
Though it’s still strange that a unique individual appeared here...
Now wasn’t the time to dwell on that.
"Everything leads to Yohan."
Most of their questions would likely be answered once they got there.
"There’s no way they wouldn’t know anything about what’s been happening around here."
Odincar had probably arrived first and delivered the message by now.
As these thoughts crossed his mind, Enkrid joined them.
He wasn’t exactly excited, but there was a faint thrill in his expression as he spoke.
"Now it’s time to master your instincts."
"...What?"
Grida, about to say something about how much trouble they’d been through, instead stopped to ask what the hell Enkrid was talking about.
"I’ve figured out the path well enough. The wall isn’t that high."
Enkrid repeated himself, quickening his pace to move alongside Ragna.
Ragna must have heard him too, but he didn’t react in any way.
"What the hell are you saying, you crazy bastard?"
Grida muttered.
She was so baffled that she didn’t notice a tree root protruding from the ground and nearly tripped.
Of course, the moment her foot hit it, she instinctively exerted strength, snapping part of the root as she stepped through.
Knights had the strength to pull off such feats.
Crack. Snap.
The root, kicked by Grida, broke apart, scattering sap and fragments around.
"Are you poisoned?"
Magrun glanced back and asked, slowing his steps slightly.
"No, that’s normal for him."
Ragna answered.
Even though Magrun and Grida had been observing Enkrid for the past two months, this level of madness was new to them.
"You have to strike by instinct. Not by judgment, but instinct."
Enkrid continued, unconcerned.
He wasn’t exactly ignoring Grida or Magrun, as he quickly followed up with something more coherent.
"I’ve taken care of all the Scalers."
"And you’re only telling us now?"
"There were four of those black things. Do they show up often around here?"
"So now you’re asking that?"
If there was a colony of them just a ten-day ride from here, then the Border Guard and even Martai would be in for a headache.
And it wasn’t just any colony—there were special variants among them.
They had already encountered the Ghoul Jeriks back in the city of Oara, so they knew monsters could train and evolve.
That made them all the more dangerous.
Among the ones Enkrid had fought, some had telekinesis, while others had bodies hardened like steel.
To be precise, two used telekinesis, and two possessed ironclad bodies.
"I’ve never seen anything like them before either."
Magrun, realizing Enkrid wasn’t going to answer him, gave up and replied on his own.
His face had grown darker since their departure.
He was worried something might have happened in Yohan, and on top of that, the pressure in his chest made him wonder if he was about to suffer another attack—whether it was a curse or an illness, he couldn’t tell.
"This is unusual. More ambushes are bound to come."
Enkrid spoke again.
Under normal circumstances, this wouldn’t be something to just brush aside as a curiosity.
But given the things he had been through, he could say such things and move on.
There wasn’t much they could do about it at the moment anyway.
And everyone present was sharp enough to recognize that, so they let it go.
The only real concern was whether there would be more ambushes.
"We’re expecting that too."
Grida agreed with Enkrid.
"Even at this pace, it will take us more than ten days to get there."
Magrun added.
"When we reach Yohan, we’ll find out what’s been happening nearby. Odincar should have arrived first."
Grida continued.
Magrun increased his pace again.
They moved with heightened awareness of their surroundings, their speed slightly reduced to avoid missing any enemy presence.
There was no need to rush blindly and hand the enemy the first strike.
They also kept their conversations to a minimum.
Talking would only interfere with detecting potential threats.
Even after running through the night, no further ambushes came.
When dawn broke and the sun began to rise, Magrun stopped, and Grida spoke up.
"How about pushing on until evening, even if it means straining ourselves a bit? Freckles will get more sleep that way too."
"Agreed."
Enkrid nodded.
They set off again.
By the time they had crossed several ridges, sweat was starting to trickle down their faces, but this wasn’t the time to worry about washing up.
Along the way, they replenished their water supplies and hunted a few beasts.
The Pen-Hanil mountain range was home to not just monsters and magical beasts but also ordinary wildlife.
After all, magical beasts were just animals tainted by monster blood.
In the deep forests far beyond, only magical beasts roamed, but that was a place known as another kind of demon land altogether.
For now, they hunted normal animals, roasting them over a rough fire to fill their stomachs and drinking their fill of water before moving on.
They hadn’t packed any salt, so they couldn’t be picky about the taste.
The meat reeked of blood, but in a situation like this, they were lucky to have food at all.
Anne, who had woken up intermittently, also ate and drank when she could.
"I can’t keep taking medicine to stay asleep. It’s taking a toll on my body."
At times like that, she clung tightly to Ragna’s back, enduring the journey.
"Ssgh... This is seriously killing me."
Though they were slower than a horse’s pace, clinging to the back of a human moving swiftly through rough terrain was no easy feat.
Enkrid actually thought Anne was holding up impressively well.
They weren’t just running on flat ground; they were crossing mountains, leaping over rocks, and kicking up dust as they went.
They had been covered in so much dry dirt that when they picked their noses, the snot came out black.
The same happened when they scratched their ears.
Three days passed this way.
By then, even Enkrid, Ragna, and Anne were expecting something to block their path.
But nothing happened.
Despite staying on alert for an ambush, there was neither an ominous scent nor a suspicious sound.
They had crossed several ridges, climbed steep mountain paths, gotten covered in dust, and even waded through a fairly wide river.
The water only reached their waists, but since gambesons and cloaks absorbed moisture and became a burden, they had to hold their weapons and packs over their heads and strip down to their light trousers to cross.
Honestly, Enkrid thought this was the perfect moment for an enemy to strike.
But again, nothing happened.
At last, they arrived at their destination.
"This is the Lafata Gorge. I’m sure you’re curious about the origin of the name, but we don’t have time for that now. Deal with it."
Magrun said as he surveyed the steep, towering slopes on either side of the dirt path.
His tone was firm, but by now, Enkrid had grown accustomed to talking with him.
"It bothers you that you couldn’t explain it."
There was a sharp edge to his tone, but that was the gist of it.
It was like wanting to describe a famous landmark from one’s hometown to a friend.
But Magrun’s intent had been thwarted by some lunatic’s attack.
That incident still left an uneasy feeling as they passed through the gorge.
Yet, with the alternative route being too roundabout, they had no choice but to continue through.
"...Why is nothing happening?"
Grida muttered.
"No idea."
Ragna responded.
Oddly enough, even as they neared the very doorstep of Yohan, no enemy had yet to ambush them.
Enkrid found that strange.
Why?
He got a vague idea upon arriving at Yohan.
The village was nestled in a basin atop a ridgeline, giving the impression of a tight-knit community.
Aside from a few buildings in an old-fashioned style and the fact that everyone carried swords, it could have been mistaken for any rural settlement beyond the reach of monsters or beasts.
Then, Enkrid’s gaze fell upon the man guarding the entrance.
Amusingly enough, they had met before—though not in reality.
"You’re late, Grida."
A tall wooden palisade, rising well above an adult’s height, loomed before them.
A man stood at the middle gate, holding it open.
For a moment, Enkrid imagined an impregnable city gate—one that would never open—or a sword that could never break.
He had never actually seen such things, yet the mere sight of this man conjured those images.
Such was the sheer force of his presence.
When still, he was like a mountain.
And when he moves, he will be like a storm.
It was only because Enkrid’s perception had sharpened that he could see it.
In his dream, the man’s thick eyebrows, gaunt cheeks, and sturdy frame had been what stood out first.
But meeting him in person, his aura was what spoke for him the loudest.
"The head of the house."
Magrun spoke, though Enkrid had already realized it before hearing the words.
The head of Yohan—the leader of a lineage of knights.
If not this man, then who else could represent Yohan?
"You’ve brought guests."
The head of the house spoke, and Enkrid felt a subtle pressure weighing upon him.
At the same time, his
Will of Rejection
activated, shaking off the man’s imposing presence as a thought crossed his mind.
He doesn’t know who we are?
If Odincar had arrived first, that wouldn’t have been possible.

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