Eternally Regressing Knight
Chapter 604 - A New God
Esther stared into the blue eyes that mirrored her own.
If anyone else had dared to act as Enkrid did, she might have gouged out more than just their eyes.
But with this man, it was different.
Just from his gaze, she could tell.
As he said, his actions were solely to restore her body heat, free of ulterior motives.
Those eyes held nothing but sincerity.
More than that, she recalled that she had asked him to hold her before she lost consciousness.
"Right," she muttered, checking her condition.
Her mana flow?
No issues.
And the frost curse that had seeped into her bones?
It seemed to have vanished completely.
The frigid aura of Del Gretscher, the master of the frozen lands, which had infiltrated her due to an overly ambitious borrowed spell, was gone.
Warmth now coursed through her body.
"I'm fine now."
Rising from the bed, Esther reached for the robe draped over the chair and wrapped it around herself.
The faint blue light of dawn streaming through the window illuminated her back, catching Enkrid's attention.
As she moved to don the robe, parts of her bare skin were briefly revealed.
The pale expanse of her back shimmered in the light, and the soft rustling of fabric accompanied her motion
The scent of her skin, imprinted in his senses from holding her for days, lingered faintly in the air.
It was a scent reminiscent of lying under a starry sky, with a cool breeze brushing against one's face.
If her scent were to be bottled into a perfume, its name would undoubtedly be "Night Sky."
Esther shivered slightly, as if the cool air were creeping back in now that she was no longer enveloped in warmth.
Glancing at Enkrid, still shirtless on the bed, she was reminded of the warmth she'd left behind.
In her dream, she had been lying in a field of flowers, surrounded by a comforting heat and a pleasant fragrance.
"Sunlight."
It was a scent akin to freshly dried linen kissed by the sun, and even now, it lingered faintly at her nose.
Looking at Enkrid, who watched her from the bed, Esther spoke.
"Take good care of those eyes."
"Of course," he replied, a hint of humor in his tone.
With a lighthearted jest, Esther, lost in thought about her dream, shifted into her panther form.
Her robe melded into her fur, her blue eyes remaining unchanged as her body transformed into that of a four-legged beast.
"Why?" Enkrid asked.
The panther tilted her head in a gesture signaling she was leaving and padded out.
Enkrid watched her go, shrugging his shoulders.
Nearby, Luagarne puffed up her cheeks—a gesture that he now understood to be the Frog equivalent of a smile.
After spending enough time with Frogs, Enkrid had learned to distinguish their subtle expressions.
"She's embarrassed," Luagarne said.
"Who?"
"Esther."
The Witch Esther, infamous as the Black Witch, and known for her supposed penchant for gouging out the eyes of those who saw her body—embarrassed?
Enkrid hadn't sensed even a hint of such emotions from her.
"Handsome folks often don't realize the impact of their actions. Tsk. You're a sinner."
Luagarne puffed her cheeks again, evidently amused.
"What are you even talking about?"
"Oh, nothing. Just saying. I'm curious to see how things will turn out. Don't worry about me. Frogs don't place much importance on physical love. If I ever want offspring, I'll find a suitable Frog mate."
"What did I say to warrant this conversation?"
"Oh, nothing. Just saying," Luagarne repeated, clearly enjoying herself.
Enkrid stayed in the city for another day.
The cult's gatherings had vanished without a trace, likely due to the chaos caused by an enraged Frog disrupting their meetings.
With the crime guilds gone, a few thugs had started extorting "protection fees," but Lord Louis dealt with them swiftly.
The sounds of their screams echoed through the city like background music.
"Stop! Please, stop! I'll work diligently!"
Lord Louis's policies were clear: now that his forces were reorganized, he had no qualms about using force against those who didn't comply.
For Enkrid, this wasn't his concern anymore.
"They'll handle it."
The matters were out of his hands now.
As he prepared to leave, he noticed a chest of jewels collected by the vampire and the administrator.
Lord Louis had gathered the chest and presented it to him.
"Please, take this."
It was only fair to receive payment for his work.
Yet Enkrid declined.
"You should use this to rebuild the city."
The lord had clearly gone to great lengths to prepare the chest, haphazardly stuffing it with whatever valuable items he could find.
But Enkrid stood firm.
"I've already been paid."
He wasn't referring to money or jewels but to the words of gratitude he had received the night before.
Delma had approached him, simply saying,
"Thank you."
To Enkrid, the value of those words far surpassed any treasure.
Others who had witnessed his deeds had also sought him out to express their thanks.
"Thank you for saving my child."
The innkeeper who raised an unrelated child out of kindness was such a person.
"Thank you! When I finish the boat, you'll be the first to ride it!"
A simple yet wise man in his own way also expressed similar gratitude.
"Th-thank you."
A mother of a certain child conveyed her thanks in those words.
And now, the lord of the castle lowered his head and spoke:
"I sincerely thank you, Sir. If ever a day comes when you require my aid, I shall offer what little I can—even if it costs me my life."
Sincerity, after all, needs no words to be understood.
Even if the color of that sincerity fades with time, it would not matter.
On the contrary, perhaps the lord would feel even more strongly inclined to show his gratitude as the days passed.
Such things can only be known by living tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that.
Having heard their words, Enkrid walked outside the city.
Receiving gazes that were still uneasy, suspicious, and cold, he exited Cross Guard.
Though not all the looks were kind, Enkrid found the entirety of it deeply satisfying.
The city would still greet tomorrow's dawn.
And that was satisfaction enough.
Later, Esther would tell him that she had slain one of the Apostles.
This, in turn, sparked chaos among the cultists across the continent.
They began to act in uniquely insidious ways.
It was something neither Enkrid nor Krais had foreseen.
"A revelation has been given. This is the task bestowed upon me by the divine."
Overdier faced the archbishop who had betrayed the god and used divinity for her own ends.
She was guarded by two heavily brainwashed paladins, who had just been struck down by Overdier.
"Sir Overdier."
The archbishop, a woman in her fifties, wore a look of profound regret.
Her eyes drooped, and she spoke as if burdened by immense sorrow.
"Why are you doing this? What remains for you if you stand against the Order? Is there truly anything so valuable as to forsake the honor you've built as a knight?"
Though she spoke of honor, her words delved deeper.
"Is there truly nothing left for you to protect? Nothing at all?"
The archbishop pressed further.
Her outward question was simple:
Is what you're doing worth sacrificing the honor you've built?
Must you intervene instead of leaving the rotten fruit to fester?
Couldn't you simply stand with the establishment and watch?
'Ah.'
But that was impossible.
Even if it was the stubbornness of an old man, he could no longer bear to watch the foundation he had built crumble into decay.
"A revelation was granted to me."
And so, he responded.
The archbishop, her neck in his grasp, closed her eyes.
"Curse all those who betrayed me."
Even in death, the archbishop smiled faintly.
She was a truly wretched soul.
With a crack, her neck broke, her tongue lolling out.
The killing had been instantaneous, leaving no time for her to cast her spells.
"Haa."
Overdier exhaled deeply, having surmounted a great mountain.
The setting was an old, decrepit mansion—a place better described as a ruin.
Here, the archbishop had tormented many with a sort of curse disguised as holy incantations.
She had the ability to control those who had spent a certain amount of time in her presence, even from a distance.
While she called her ability "Penance," Overdier referred to it as "Torture."
She could compel people to lash their own bodies with whips, prevent them from sleeping, or stop them from eating.
Her power forced others into involuntary acts of asceticism, which might have been acceptable if pursued voluntarily for training.
But for such a curse to exist under the guise of holy magic?
Preposterous.
It was, in truth, a form of Western sorcery.
The problem was that Overdier's wife, Lorna, had been one of the people under her control.
This was why, when the archbishop spoke of honor, she subtly threatened him, questioning if he was truly willing to go this far.
From the moment Overdier resolved to uncover the rot within the Order, he had known his wife would be endangered.
It was a severe blow.
Thus, he needed a new ally—someone to act in his stead, to distract the archbishop's gaze while he completed the task.
"Is it over now?"
The man who asked this was a towering figure, aptly nicknamed the "Bear Beastman."
The divine power radiating from him surpassed even Overdier's.
There was no other talent like his within the Order.
"It's not the end—it's just the beginning."
"But my role ends here, doesn't it?"
"Yes, you'll have another task soon enough."
"Do you have no doubts?"
Audin asked bluntly.
Despite his imposing appearance, he was surprisingly sharp.
Overdier understood the intent behind the question and replied in turn.
"Are you suggesting the ease of this task seems suspicious?"
Indeed, Overdier had felt it too.
The mission had gone too smoothly.
The archbishop had revealed herself easily, and the paladins' defense had been lackluster.
No matter how exceptional Audin's abilities were, the simplicity was undeniable.
"Yes, precisely. Old brother who loves boasting about his wife."
Audin had quickly coined that nickname after hearing Overdier speak of his wife during their travels.
Overdier took it as a compliment.
He only answered the core of Audin's question:
Wasn't this task strangely easy?
"It was necessary. Even if someone orchestrated it, it was an unavoidable duty."
If I leave things as they are, my true identity will be revealed, and then my wife will meet her death after a life of suffering.
So, I cannot stop.
Even if I were to lose her, this was something I had to do.
This was about protecting the foundation I had built with my own hands.
Still, the thought of losing her was unbearable.
That's why I was so grateful for Audin's timely appearance.
"May the Lord guide me," Overdier prayed silently as Audin gave him a nod.
Ever since the operation began, he had received aid from the shadows.
Though the assistance didn't seem entirely benevolent, there was nothing he could do to refuse it.
"I'll take my leave now. Goodbye."
"Don't wander too far," Overdier replied.
And so, their brief journey together came to an end.
Audin turned back, and his intuition proved correct.
Just as he was about to return to Border Guard, chaos erupted.
"Who follows the word of God?
Who is in the right?
Is it the paladin who killed the Archbishop?
If you don't know right from wrong, stay out of it!
I will judge them myself and uphold God's will!"
Some priests of the God of Abundance, a few of the War God, and others serving the Celestial God, along with elements of the Holy Crusaders, declared a holy war.
"It started with that monastery, which betrayed the Order and used the Saintess for its own gains."
Forces rallying under the banner of the crusade gathered, tainted by the schemes of heretics in the background.
Boldly, they incited conflict at the site where the Holy Knights were stationed.
Heretical apostles clashed with the knights, rendering the Holy Order unable to participate in the crusade.
This wasn't the time to take sides; it was about protecting one's own territory.
Every action has its motives, but the heretics' ultimate goal was unclear.
Yet, in hindsight, sparking the crusade itself worked to their benefit—it turned the Holy Nation inward, tearing itself apart.
"I'll wipe these damn heretics off the face of this land," someone declared.
As apostles appeared, the Justice Priests and the Anti-Heresy Priests took action.
Amidst this chaos, rumors spread that a paladin within the priesthood had been slain, allegedly by an apostle of the Abyssal Sacred Order.
This rendered even these two priestly factions unable to provide a unified stance or participate in the crusade.
The Holy Nation, built on the foundation of the Order, encompassed three cities.
All three fell into disarray.
Amid this turmoil, Muel, one of the Seven Apostles of Prosperity who aspired to become the new Pope, advanced on a targeted monastery.
He distributed indulgences and publicly announced that his forces included two Holy Knights.
At this rate, Muel seemed poised to establish a new Order under his leadership.
"We serve the Gray God," they proclaimed.
These madmen proudly declared their godless void as a form of divinity.
They had conjured a deity out of thin air, creating a new religion.
Within the existing Order, those who displayed faint gray halos had quietly banded together—and now they had made their presence undeniable.
They were part of the Order's entrenched elite, which only exacerbated the situation.
"These lunatics have truly lost it," Overdier muttered.
Unable to stand by any longer, he organized his forces and took action.
Meanwhile, Noah, the leader of the monastery, chose to barricade himself inside its fortress-like walls.
They couldn't afford to simply sit and wait for death.
As Muel advanced toward Noah's monastery, his numbers swelled daily.
He glorified his troops as the Gray Holy Army.
"I will burn your flesh to offer it as a sacrifice to the Gray God," he declared, vowing not to grant the monastery any pardon.
At this point, Muel's new religion diverged significantly from the worship of the God of Abundance.
It was as though a runaway wagon on a downhill path had gained uncontrollable momentum.
No one could stop it now.

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