A Knight who Eternally Regresses - Chapter 10
Chapter 10: He Stabbed
“Gurk.”
The man hit by the dagger let out a death rattle. A poisoned dagger was embedded in his side, and a spearhead pierced his throat.
“Gurgle.”
Foam bubbled at his mouth as the light faded from his eyes. That was the end. Enkrid looked into the man’s eyes before stepping back.
“Waaaah!”
An ally right next to him screamed. The enemy in front of them also screamed.
“Raaaargh!”
Both were large men. When they clashed, it was like two carriages colliding. They grabbed each other and started spinning around. Seeing this, Enkrid stepped back.
What must one do to preserve their life? After over a hundred and twenty times of risking his life, Enkrid had learned many lessons. Preserving his life meant fighting as little as possible. Enkrid took care of himself.
“Die!”
“You fucker.”
Instead of shouting battle cries, they cursed as they swung swords, spears, axes, and clubs.
“Don’t mess with my brother, you bastard.”
A dying soldier left his last words.
“Doesn’t matter what you say; I won’t take responsibility for your brother.”
A soldier pretended to be unfazed by the death of a comrade.
“Die! Die!”
A rookie lost his sanity in the heat of battle.
“That crazy bastard.”
“Leave him. He’s just pretending to be a berserker.”
A veteran cared for his squadmate while watching the rampaging rookie.
“My name is Bar-”
An enemy trying to announce his name died mid-sentence. An ally laughed while pulling out the spear that had killed him.
Stomp.
A foot hit the ground, sending up a cloud of dust. In the sunlight, the dust floated lazily. Beside it, an enemy spat blood. Nearby, a comrade lay with his head smashed. Flesh scattered on the ground, blood soaking the earth. Even if one tried to stay out of the fray, it was impossible to survive in the heart of the battlefield without doing anything.
‘Huff, hoo…’
Enkrid inhaled shortly and exhaled long. He controlled his breathing. As soon as he steadied his breath, he saw a spearhead flying through the dust. Enkrid loosely held his shield, blocking the spear.
Thunk.
The spearhead bounced off the shield. By holding the handle loosely, he could absorb the impact. At the same time, a club swung diagonally from the side. Enkrid ducked forward, dodging the club, and lunged at the attacker.
Thud.
He slammed his shoulder into the enemy’s chest. As they fell, he drew a dagger and stabbed their thigh.
Crunch!
The blade tore through the thick cloth, making a deep cut in the enemy’s thigh.
“You bastard!”
The enemy shouted, shoving Enkrid away. Using the force to steady himself, Enkrid drew his sword and slashed horizontally. The thigh injury hindered the enemy’s movement. The staggered enemy couldn’t avoid the blade and was struck on the neck.
Slash!
The blade half-embedded itself. Enkrid pulled it out with force.
Crunch.
The blade tore through muscle, nerves, tendons, and bone as it came out. Blood gushed as the soldier tried to cover his neck with his hand. Of course, such a wound couldn’t be stopped with a hand. Enkrid didn’t look back. He knew an ally would deal with the spearman who had attacked him.
“You bastard!”
It was Bell. He hadn’t saved him for nothing. Once saved, Bell stayed close and watched his back. He was a loyal friend.
Clang! Clang!
The sound of metal clashing echoed. Enkrid lost interest in the fallen enemy and picked up a stone from the ground. Then he turned and threw it immediately. The enemy, who was evenly matched with an ally, paused when hit by the stone.
Smash!
Bell swung his spear and struck the enemy’s head. It was an excellent hit.
“I think I’ve repaid my debt.”
Bell panted as he spoke.
“Do you really think so?”
Did he think repaying a life debt was that simple?
“Maybe I’ve only repaid half.”
Bell scratched his helmet with his bloody hand. Not that it would make him feel any better. Bell stepped back slightly. After falling once, he had learned to be more cautious. Following the flow of the battle, Enkrid moved slowly.
“Save me. Gurgle.”
A soldier begging for his life foamed at the mouth. He recognized the face. A gambler who had died countless times.
“I can’t save you.”
Enkrid said calmly. He had tried many times, but saving him was impossible. Thus, he stepped into the battlefield. Among the approaching enemies, he searched for the sadistic attacker. It wasn’t hard to find him. The moment he found him, Enkrid drew his last remaining dagger and threw it in rhythm with his steps.
Thud, whoosh, whizz!
A perfectly timed throw that few could dodge traced a thin line through the air.
Thunk!
The enemy twisted and caught the dagger on his shoulder. The slanted dagger struck his scapula and bounced off. A reflexive action, yet an almost perfect defense. Enkrid felt the enemy’s gaze on him. Blocking the dagger and immediately identifying its source? He had thought it many times, but this sadistic attacker was no ordinary person.
The enemy charged. With each step, blood-soaked dirt flew backward. It wasn’t far. So, it was time to test everything he had learned from repeating today. His condition was better than ever.
Thus, he was ready.
The enemy brought his sword down vertically. Enkrid raised his shield.
Thud!
The blade striking the oiled wood felt heavy.
“The basics of swordsmanship? It’s strength.”
One of the swordsmanship instructors had said.
“Beat strength with skill? Hah, that’s laughable. Try beating a giant with just skill.”
“Do you know how many died trying to deflect against giants?”
“The basics of swordsmanship are strength. Strength. So train hard.”
Thanks to that teacher, he had built his body well. Holding the shield, Enkrid didn’t easily get pushed back. His strength was on par with the enemy’s.
“Hmph!”
The sadistic attacker sneered. While Enkrid’s vision was obscured by the shield, the enemy kicked his ankle. Enkrid blocked it with his greave. Steel-plated boots were weapons themselves.
Thud.
A sharp pain shot up his shin, but it didn’t break.
That was enough. He pushed his shield out and drew his sword, swinging it upward.
Whoosh!
The sadistic attacker had anticipated it, already stepping out of the sword’s range. Then he jumped forward, deeper than the distance he had retreated. It was a charge timed with Enkrid’s sword swing.
“Hah!”
Enkrid shouted, putting all his strength into swinging his shield like a club. The sadistic attacker tucked his chin.
Thwack!
The enemy was hit in the head and fell to the side. Enkrid, about to swing his sword again, stepped back.
Whoosh.
The enemy, still on the ground, drew a dagger and slashed diagonally. If he had charged, the dagger would have hit above the greave. In a short moment, the enemy saw the position of the guard and found the gap. People would call that talent. Enkrid had to die and die again, learning the Heart of the Beast to achieve that.
The enemy had none of that. He had no experience of rolling on the battlefield countless times.
Enkrid could see it. The enemy was either a rookie or had little battle experience. Otherwise, he wouldn’t charge so recklessly.
It had been the same when they first met. He had almost fallen for the enemy’s stab. No experience but brilliant talent. But he wasn’t envious.
‘I can catch him.’
He could do it. Confidence built up. He intuitively knew today’s efforts weren’t in vain. It was time for the efforts made with death to pay off.
“You bastard.”
A venomous look showed in his eyes. The enemy got up, and in that moment, another ally stepped between Enkrid and him. The sadistic attacker crouched without hesitation and struck the ally’s shin with his sword hand.
Crack.
The sound of a bone breaking.
Whenever an ally stepped in, this was the pattern. The next move was always to stab the ally’s neck with a dagger. A fluid attack pattern. It was a known pattern. The sadistic attacker drew his dagger and stabbed. The shocked ally couldn’t do anything, his eyes wide open. Just before the blade pierced his neck…
Whoosh, the ally’s body was pulled back.
Slash, crunch.
The blade slashed his cheek, grazed his temple, and scratched his helmet.
“Huh!”
The surprised ally fell back, speechless, gasping for air as he sat on the ground. Enkrid stood before the soldier, clenching and unclenching the hand that had grabbed the ally’s neck instead of a sword.
“Back off.”
This was his fight. That was his opponent. He had to confirm his achievements.
Thump.
His heart raced. Enkrid felt a mix of emotions. Whether surpassing today was the right thing. Whether he could defeat the enemy. An inexplicable sense of competitiveness. The baseless intuition that overcoming this opponent would lead to the next step.
“I won’t hold back.”
The sadistic attacker said. Look at that, how ridiculous. A lack of experience, despite talent, was evident if he were truly serious.
‘He should’ve shown a gap instead of talking.’
If he wanted to win, he should have done that. So, Enkrid did it instead.
“Huff, huff.”
He deliberately breathed heavily. He flinched at every gesture from the enemy. At one point, the enemy’s eyes, which had seemed red, were now a dull brown. Those brown eyes sparkled. The sadistic attacker stepped closer, slashing his sword.
Whoosh!
It was a different speed from before.
Thump.
His heart raced. There was no panic or closing of his eyes. The Heart of the Beast remained calm.
“Watch closely and just dodge.”
Rem always said that. He had thought it was just teasing. But it wasn’t. He saw it. He tensed his ankle and twisted his body.
Whoosh, the blade grazed his shoulder.
Right after dodging, he slashed horizontally.
Ting.
The enemy raised his dagger. Enkrid’s sword and the enemy’s dagger formed a cross.
Ting-ting-ting!
Pressing down with force, the blades clashed, sending sparks flying. The enemy twisted his dagger, deflecting the sword sideways. Enkrid stopped his thrust and pulled his shield close.
Clang!
The blade struck the edge of the shield. Sparks flew again. The sadistic attacker had already pulled back and swung his sword. He had experienced this pattern before. He knew it well. Turning his head quickly, the enemy was already out of sight. Enkrid didn’t hesitate and drove his sword vertically into the ground. The enemy, who had charged low, stopped.
Thunk.
The blood-soaked ground swallowed the blade. The enemy, bent over, lifted his head. Murderous intent gleamed in his eyes.
“Tricks.”
He clenched his teeth. Tricks were skills too, you bastard. Enkrid didn’t respond. Instead, he kicked dirt at the enemy.
Thud!
“Ugh!”
The enemy blocked his face with his arm. Blocking with reflexes again. It wasn’t the first time he had seen this. It was no big deal.
“You bastard!”
When he had the upper hand, he boasted and spoke of mercy. He reveled in despicable joy in his eyes. When cornered, he quickly got excited. His personality was clear. As he stood up, the enemy charged again.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Blocking the relentless sword strikes with his shield, it began to creak. Closing the distance, the enemy thrust a dagger at his side. Before, he had been stabbed like this and died, gasping. Enkrid raised his elbow.
Thud!
The blade struck the tough leather guard. At the same time, Enkrid pushed his forehead forward. It was a Vallen Style close combat technique.
A headbutt.
Thwack!
“Ugh!”
He headbutted with all his might, making his head spin. Usually, there would be someone swinging a club from behind at this moment. But not today. There was no one throwing an axe either.
Instead, there was Bell.
“Fuck, I’m helping!”
Bell shouted.
“Just block anyone who interferes.”
‘This is my fight.’
Suppressing the nausea and regaining his balance, he heard the enemy muttering.
“You crazy bastard.”
‘If my head is spinning, so is yours.’
The dizziness quickly faded.
“I’ll watch you struggle and die.”
The sadistic attacker took a stance. One foot forward, the other back. A stance like a charging cavalryman. From that stance came a thrust as fast as an arrow. Tension gripped his heart. He exhaled to release the tension.
‘Stay calm.’
Could he overcome the wall of talent with repetition of today? It was time to find out.
The enemy moved. He was just a dot. That’s how he appeared. Despite having experienced it many times, it was still the same. The dot became light, then a blade that pierced Enkrid’s body. No, he barely dodged it.
Whoosh.
The blade grazed his side. Predicting the target and dodging according to the blade’s movement. Enkrid’s body followed his thoughts faithfully. The burning pain followed the graze on his side. He ignored it. Instead, he stepped forward with his left foot, drawing his sword hand back. Pulling his right elbow tight. Like an arrow on a string.
He shifted his weight onto his left foot. He had watched and learned. He had learned through being stabbed. Completed through sparring with Rem.
Thud.
When advancing, focus on balance over strength. Imbue the blade with his will.
‘Stab.’
Firm will infused the sword. Releasing the tensioned muscles, he thrust his sword.
Thunk!
The sharpened blade stabbed at the enemy’s heart. It pierced through the leather and thick cloth armor reaching the heart.
It felt as if the sword, hand, and arm had become one. A moment to savor the satisfaction of achievement as a reward for his efforts.
“Hey!”
Someone shouted. Enkrid didn’t even register the shout. Before he could bask in the joy of victory.
Thwack!
An immense impact struck his left side, lifting him off the ground.
‘Huh?’
What was this?
It was a situation he had never encountered in the 125 times of repeating today.
“It’s a damn frog!”
Whether it was Bell or someone else shouting, he didn’t know. That was Enkrid’s last memory.
He fainted.