A Knight who Eternally Regresses - Chapter 108

Chapter 108: It Was a Gamble

‘This should work.’

As Finn approached the wall, she could tell that the watchful eyes of the guards were not as sharp as they had been before.

Though it wasn’t as precise as opening the Gate of the Sixth Sense, she had her own instincts as a Ranger and Pathfinder.

Torres, who followed closely behind, had his doubts about whether this was the right approach. But then, he quickly shook his head.

‘This isn’t the time to hesitate.’

Once you’ve committed to something, you follow through.

He was a member of the Border Guard—a soldier with a special rank from the Naurilia military system. While he not was someone who could take on a hundred enemies by himself, he was certainly capable of taking on two or three opponents single-handedly.

Then there was Enkrid.

“I’m going first.”

He didn’t bother waiting for Finn to lead. Without hesitation, he began climbing, placing his hands into the cracks of the wall.

He had already discarded his tattered gambeson, and despite having used some of his throwing weapons, the longsword hanging from his waist still rattled as he moved.

“…What the hell is with that guy?” Finn muttered.

He was climbing the wall better than she, a trained Ranger, could. It was only natural she would be surprised.

“I don’t know either. I thought I knew a bit before, but now I have no idea.”

“What?”

Torres realized his own words sounded absurd and odd, even to him.

“I mean, I thought I understood him before, but now I don’t have a clue.”

“Well, just keep up.”

Enkrid scaled the wall at an impressive pace. It was almost artful. He made it look easy, moving swiftly, hands and feet working in perfect rhythm.

Finn followed behind him.

She only had two pitons with her, so she could only secure two points on the wall. As she looked down, she saw Torres struggling to keep up.

He was panting, but being naturally athletic, he managed to catch up.

‘But what about him?’

Finn turned her gaze upward again. Enkrid had almost reached the top of the wall, now crouching just beneath the battlements.

The parapet was a thick, tall structure built to defend the wall. It was difficult for anyone to climb over it barehanded and drop down into the interior of the fortress.

‘Can he not get over that?’

She doubted it.

Finn could easily pull herself up by her fingertips, using the momentum from her waist to swing herself over. And if she hooked a small grappling hook, it would be even easier. Once she was over, she could just help her comrades climb the rest of the way.

But Enkrid hadn’t stopped because he couldn’t get over the parapet. He didn’t seem to be struggling at all as he hung beneath the edge. He glanced down and waved his fingers.

It was a simple hand signal, but it wasn’t hard to understand.

[Guards.]

There were guards on the other side of the wall. Finn hadn’t sensed anything—not a single sound or movement.

‘Is he more sensitive than me, a Ranger?’

In truth, Enkrid hadn’t felt anything either. It was just something he had learned through experience. Dangling beneath the parapet, Enkrid fell into thought.

‘What tricks are they up to?’

Blocking the Sixth Sense. Even after repeating today countless times, he still couldn’t fully figure it out. There was definitely some kind of magic being used to block perception.

If not, there was no way everything could be this quiet.

Inside the doghole, once they’d entered the tunnel, the eerie sensation had hit him, signaling it was over. He could chalk up the lycanthrope pack to the fact that this area—the land in front of Cross Guard—was known for frequent monster activity.

But for there to be guards hiding on top of the wall, and none of them sensing their presence?

There was definitely some trickery at play. Up until the sixtieth repetition of today, he had exhausted himself trying to figure out what was going on.

‘Let it go.’

It didn’t matter anymore. There were more important things to focus on than whatever magic the enemy was using. His ultimate goal was clear.

To get through today.

To keep training.

To let his sword guide him forward.

Would giving up on understanding the trick really be a problem?

Not at all.

With all he had learned from the repeated days, he knew what he had to do.

‘It should be around here.’

Still hanging from the wall, Enkrid started slowly shifting to the left. For someone to hang on, there needed to be cracks or gaps in the wall.

This part of the Cross Guard wall often faced monsters, including colonies of creatures, so it was full of scratches and gouges.

There had been repairs, of course, but the cracks still remained. He wedged his fingers into a crack and found a foothold, allowing him to move with relative ease.

As Enkrid repositioned himself, he mentally mapped the area beyond the wall.

At first, he had only been able to guess and estimate what lay on the other side. Now, he could predict even where the mage, Ressa, would be.

It wasn’t a guess, it was a certainty.

This arrogant mage had never once moved from her spot in any of the repeated days. Settling into his position, Enkrid signaled again.

[You two go first.]

Finn and Torres saw the hand signal and began to move. First Finn, then Torres. Finn reached out to help Torres over. As soon as both of them were over—

Fwoosh.

The sky lit up with flames.

Six or seven torches flared to life simultaneously. It was a sight Enkrid had seen more than once before.

“How did you get this far? My children should have already stopped you.”

It was Ressa’s voice. Just as expected, she was waiting just beyond the wall. She didn’t know who he was, but he knew exactly where she was.

That alone gave him the advantage. He also knew her name, and the kinds of spells she would use.

“Shit.”

Torres cursed under his breath.

“It’s really her.”

Finn muttered.

Seeing the situation unfold, Enkrid reached up with his hand. He gripped the edge of the parapet with just his fingertips.

With one arm, he pulled himself up.

It was this strength, repeatedly praised by Rem and the others in his unit. After honing his skills in Isolation Training, he felt even lighter.

In one smooth motion, he swung his body up, launching himself over the parapet and into the air, flipping as he went.

It was a maneuver he never would have been able to pull off before. But now, after all the training and countless repetitions, his body moved with fluidity.

Enkrid’s body twisted in the air as he landed beyond the parapet, rolling forward before coming to a stop.

Koomph.

The ground shook slightly as he hit it without fully breaking his fall.BRight in front of him stood the mage, Ressa, her eyes wide with surprise.

“You—!”

Before she could say anything more, Enkrid’s hand moved.

Whistle!

A Whistling Dagger shot from his hand.

Ressa was startled, but she wasn’t panicked. Where did he come from? That was all she wondered.

She remained calm because she had a trump card. Surrounding her was an invisible barrier created by one of her spells.

It was a barrier that could block even the strongest of crossbow bolts. She waited for the dagger to hit her shield.

But Enkrid’s Whistling Dagger wasn’t aimed at her. It flew past her, straight toward the four soldiers holding crossbows.

Thwack!

Enkrid’s focused Whistling Dagger hit its mark precisely. All four soldiers dropped before they even knew what hit them.

Just as they fell, Ressa reacted.

“Kyaah!”

A strange cry escaped her lips, and a vine shot up from the ground, coiling like a whip aimed at Enkrid’s waist.

The real battle was about to begin.

“Focus on the soldiers!”

Enkrid shouted as he drew his sword.

Shing!

He swung his sword, moving with intense concentration. His head felt hot from the focus.

‘Cut the thin ones. Parry the thick ones.’

Enkrid based his movements on Light Sword Technique, not Heavy Sword Technique.

He had never formally studied it, but—

“You should at least know the basic principles of different sword techniques. Even if you favor one style, not knowing the others is foolish. How else will you respond to your enemy’s technique?”

That was something Ragna had said on one of his rare serious days.

Though usually lazy and lacking any enthusiasm, Ragna sometimes burned with passion during those rare occasions when he decided to teach.

That lesson had stuck with Enkrid.

After practicing for over seventy repetitions of today, he had honed his skills against these vines. Enkrid’s seventy-plus days had finally borne fruit.

He slashed through the thin vines and parried the thick ones.

Snap! Crack! Thud.

Some of the vines were as thick as his forearm, delivering blows like heavy clubs. But Enkrid blocked them with the flat of his sword, lowering his stance to deflect the impact upward.

This was the Light Sword Technique.

“You wretch!”

Ressa’s voice was full of fury. How dare this swordsman avoid her vines? A mere blade-wielder?

Her hands moved, and three vine spears and several whip-like tendrils shot toward him. Enkrid didn’t rely on instinct anymore.

Instead, he kept his eyes wide open.

He focused all his senses on his vision, channeling everything into that one faculty. It felt like his eyes were burning.

In this state, he could see everything. It was as if time had slowed down. He repeated the same process.

He parried the strikes, slashed at the attacks, and deflected the rest. It wasn’t about feeling it. He discarded the idea of relying on instinct.

He didn’t need his sixth sense now.

He could see everything. With his eyes fully focused, he struck, dodged, and parried.

Twice more, he slipped through her attacks, dodging and deflecting her vine onslaught. Meanwhile, there were pained screams in the background.

Those were the death cries of soldiers, their lives claimed by Finn and Torres. Both were more than competent fighters, especially when the attention of the enemy was focused elsewhere.

Torres had a talent for wielding daggers, something Enkrid had witnessed firsthand.

“I’ll make you dance until you die.”

Ressa’s voice dripped with fury, her eyes burning with a cold, venomous glare. Her serpent-like gaze locked onto Enkrid.

But he ignored it.

He had faced it countless times before. The Heart of the Beast pounded loudly in his chest.

Or was it Rem speaking in his head?

“If you get taken down by something like that, you may as well rip out that heart.”

Don’t worry, you lunatic. I’m not going down to something like that. Her eyes flickered with rage, and the vines became more vicious.

They became thinner and faster.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!

Up until now, Ressa’s vines had mostly taken the shape of spears and whips. But as the situation grew more desperate, she summoned thorny vines that fired like arrows.

Though they weren’t literal arrows, their speed and shape were no different. Could a human fend off a barrage of arrows?

‘No.’

Not unless it was a knight, at least.

But if there was no other choice, and you found yourself facing a rain of arrows with nowhere to run, what would you do?

‘What else?’

You grit your teeth and fight through it.

Call it a soldier’s mentality, or maybe just stubbornness. No matter what, Enkrid wasn’t someone who gave up easily.

He had staked his entire life on walking this path. With both hands gripping his sword tightly, Enkrid felt the sharp sting of concentration burning in his eyes.

‘Connect the dots.’

Focus on each point, trace the line, and parry them all. The thorny vines twisted and shot up from below, raining down from all directions.

He counted them— there were more than ten at once. Realizing he couldn’t keep track, he stopped counting. Enkrid extended his focus, spreading his awareness across the battlefield.

This technique of spreading his concentration, something he had honed in the battles between the lycanthropes and the Gray Dogs, allowed him to evade attacks within his range.

He combined that with what he had learned in the doghole fight. Instant judgment—making decisions in the blink of an eye, without hesitation.

Enkrid combined these two skills and acted accordingly.

Slash!

The air was filled with the sound of vines being sliced, their greenish fluid spraying in all directions. Ressa’s face contorted in anger, veins bulging across her forehead and eyes bloodshot with rage.

Yet, the vines didn’t stop.

Neither did Enkrid’s sword.

Meanwhile, Torres and Finn, engaged in their own battle with the soldiers, occasionally glanced at the intense fight between Enkrid and the mage.

They both realized something. Simply saying that Enkrid fought well didn’t quite capture it anymore. Torres slit the throat of a soldier, standing behind him as the man collapsed.

Thunk!

A quarrel shot past him, striking the body of the man he had just killed.

“You might want to aim a little better,” Torres muttered.

Crack! Aaagh!

At the same time, a bloodcurdling scream echoed from a different part of the wall.

It was Finn’s doing. She had slithered through the shadows like a snake, snapping an enemy soldier’s leg in a grotesque direction, leaving him foaming at the mouth.

She didn’t stop.

She couldn’t afford to, as she knew a stray crossbow bolt could hit her if she hesitated. All the while, Enkrid and Ressa’s battle continued without pause, an ongoing clash of vines and blades.

No one dared to approach the two combatants. The thorns from Ressa’s vines were flying through the air like sharp needles, occasionally ricocheting off walls or stabbing into the ground.

Even her own soldiers feared getting too close, wary of being caught in their mage’s attacks. This, in turn, gave Torres and Finn the room they needed to breathe.

Torres had no desire to get near those sharp, piercing vine-thorns that were punching holes into the stone of the fortress wall.

‘Killing soldiers won’t solve this.’

Torres came to a grim realization.

The outcome of this battle rested entirely on the confrontation between Enkrid and Ressa.

What if the mage won?

Then both Torres and Finn were as good as dead. But how long could Enkrid hold out?

Torres and Finn could see that Enkrid was barely dodging the vines anymore—some of them had started grazing him.

And as if she could sense this, Ressa’s voice grew colder, more confident.

“You really thought you could challenge me with just some cheap leather armor?”

Her voice was calm, low, and certain. She spoke like someone who knew victory was within her grasp.

‘This is bad.’

Torres thought, knowing that Enkrid’s situation looked dire.

It was true—he was reaching his limit. But this was exactly the moment Enkrid had been waiting for.

As Ressa became convinced of her victory, and as Torres, Finn, and even the enemy soldiers fixated on their battle, Enkrid’s right hand moved.

It was the gamble he had been preparing for.