A Knight who Eternally Regresses - Chapter 51

Chapter 51: “The Unexpected Can Kill You” (2)

“Lucky.”

One of the soldiers watching the duel muttered. He was a former mercenary and one of the men who had complained during Enkrid’s commendation ceremony.

Frowning, he stepped forward.

“Not tired, are you? How about another round?”

To advance, Enkrid needed to be recognized by three mid-rank soldiers or defeat three of them in succession. Facing one opponent wasn’t enough.

“Uh, Squad Leader?”

Kraiss glanced nervously at the tension brewing. Enkrid looked curiously at the fallen soldier.

Was this really happening?

He had won with just a simple trip. The fallen soldier clutched his wrist and stood up.

“Lucky bastard.”

As he withdrew, tears of pain welled in his eyes. It must have hurt, but tearing up seemed excessive. Enkrid turned his gaze to his next opponent, assuming his stance.

“I’m not tired.”

“Good. In that case, I’ll be your next opponent.”

Enkrid briefly reviewed the previous fight.

‘Luck was on my side.’

The soldier had fallen without even trying to protect himself. He hadn’t anticipated being taken down.

‘Why?’

Overconfidence led to underestimating the opponent, but could a simple trip decide the fight?

Did that make sense?

He didn’t know. He just needed to try again. His opponent drew a spear.

The infantry battalion stationed in Border Guard had two main types of soldiers. One was the light infantry, and the other heavy infantry.

Heavy infantry often used long spears as weapons. They were well-trained soldiers Border Guard had invested heavily in, and were more trained and skilled compared to the light infantry.

The opponent twirled the tip of his spear. Enkrid didn’t let his gaze be drawn to it.

“When fighting, keep your eyes on your opponent’s entire body.”

That was Ragna’s advice, and Enkrid followed it faithfully.

Whoosh.

The spear aimed for his side. It was a swift, predatory thrust.

‘Slow.’

But compared to the thrusting maniac he had met on his first repeated day, it was slow. He could clearly see its trajectory and easily dodge it. Enkrid shifted his stance, using his left foot as a pivot, and intercepted the spear at his side.

When the spear was subdued with a thud, the opponent tried to pull it back. Enkrid matched the pull, charging forward.

“Huh?”

Expecting resistance, the soldier gasped as Enkrid came at him with the spear. The startled soldier raised his left arm to guard while holding the spear with both hands.

Enkrid feigned a stab at his eyes, then tripped him with a well-placed foot to the shin. With his left foot forward and his shoulder thrusting into the soldier’s chest, he pushed him over.

Thud.

With a heavy thud, the soldier hit the ground, breath knocked out of him. There was no need to point his sword. Enkrid looked down from above. The heavy infantryman from the 1st Platoon of the 1st Company stared up at him, seeing the accident-prone squad leader looming above, twice his size.

It was the psychological pressure of being overpowered.

‘Shit.’

Despite his breathlessness from the blow, he cursed the one who had mocked the squad leader, including himself.

‘How is he low-rank?’

Enkrid asked, “More?”

“No, no more.”

The second mid-rank soldier stepped back, and the third stepped forward.

“Idiots.”

One of the soldiers watching the duel muttered. It was Andrew.

Andrew, who had gone on the reconnaissance mission with Enkrid, had already thought he was beyond mid-rank level, but he was even better now. His swordsmanship had matured significantly since then.

Andrew praised himself for betting all his coins on Enkrid. He also pondered who would win if they fought now. He had also been diligently training. Next to him, Mack commented on Andrew’s observation.

“What happened to him?”

“Why?”

“He’s improved too much.”

“How much?”

Seeing Andrew’s expression, Mack shook his head.

“He’s different now.”

After their reconnaissance mission, Mack had told Andrew to get more experience before properly challenging the squad leader. Now, he needed to retract that advice.

“If we fight now, it’ll be difficult. Even for me.”

Mack, a highly skilled swordsman who had been mentoring Andrew, had admitted it. Andrew nodded. This was expected. After all, Enkrid had knocked him out with one blow. For the first time in his life, he felt naturally inclined to follow someone.

Vengeance also watched the duel. Returning from duty, he saw the commotion at the training ground.

“What’s happening?”

A subordinate explained, and Vengeance, leaning his spear and helmet on the ground, watched. Enkrid had fought twice and won twice. It sounded easy, but those with a keen eye could see the skill involved.

‘If that’s luck.’

Then the goddess of fortune would have to be reincarnated as a man.

The third opponent hesitated to step forward. Kraiss realized his squad leader was a better fighter than he had thought. He also had a knack for reading people. So, he decided to directly call out the next opponent.

“You there, 2nd Platoon, right? How about a match?”

If Kraiss believed in anything, he could be a bold instigator. He would provoke an opponent if needed.

“Me?”

The number of spectators had grown significantly. Stepping up and getting beaten wasn’t appealing.

“Who else would I mean? You were so confident calling him a manwhore from the back.”

Kraiss smirked, mocking the soldier. The provocation worked.

“Damn it. Fine, I’ll fight.”

The foul-mouthed soldier spat on the ground and stepped forward. Standing on the soft dirt, he faced Enkrid, who had just finished reviewing his second fight.

‘I’ve been in tougher fights.’

This was too easy. Rem and the others had always said the rank system was a mess.

“Not all mid-ranks are equal. Even the high ranks have too much variance. Winning a fight to the death isn’t always about skill alone. Plenty of people on the continent are skilled enough to outthink their opponents and win.”

That was Rem’s view. Yet, to be recognized, one had to climb the rank system.

‘Unless you rise above the system itself.’

Those who stood above the rank system. The Red Cloak Knights’ elite.

Border Guard housed two battalions. They rotated between guarding Green Pearl and city duty. Usually, one battalion and a reserve unit stayed in the city.

Enkrid’s unit, the 1st Battalion, was currently stationed in the city. Half of the 2nd Battalion was deployed in the field at Green Pearl, defending the fortifications.

Every year, they alternated winter duties, a role for the Border Guard’s standing army. The city, with fewer than ten thousand residents, housed two infantry battalions and a direct unit of the kingdom. Although this was the first time a Red Cloak Knights member had personally entered the field, they occasionally sent representatives. This was possible because Border Guard was a royal territory.

In the past, when relations with Azpen were good, Border Guard was a trade city for spices and various goods. After Azpen’s invasion, it transformed into a military city and fortress. Walls were built higher, and watchtowers erected.

The three towers symbolized Naurillia’s vigilance against Azpen. Thus, the stationed units were highly skilled.

Border Guard gathered seasoned troops with combat experience. So, the current soldier should have been just as capable. No one here would be an easy opponent.

At the start of this campaign, the field had been full of capable soldiers, more than enough to challenge Enkrid.

“Are you distracted?”

The opponent asked.

“No.”

Enkrid’s heart skipped a beat, but he shook his head. Never underestimate your opponent.

Countless instructors had stressed this. To follow that advice, Enkrid recalled the city’s strategic importance. Underestimation had once seemed irrelevant.

‘Who am I to underestimate?’

But now, he needed to heed that advice. He didn’t feel amused. He was just satisfied. Separate from the joy of growth, proving and showcasing his skills brought Enkrid happiness.

“What’s so amusing?”

The opponent asked again. Enkrid realized he was smiling faintly.

“Fighting is fun.”

“Crazy.”

His opponent steadied his breath and attacked. He swung his sword vertically. Enkrid watched the trajectory and moved. He gathered strength from his planted foot through his knee to his waist, channeling it into his sword to strike his opponent’s blade.

Clang!

The sound of metal echoed. His opponent’s chest opened. Enkrid feigned a thrust, causing his opponent to draw back defensively. Instead of following through, Enkrid raised his blade and closed the distance. He met the startled soldier’s eyes, locked blades, hooked his left foot behind the soldier’s heel, and pushed forward with his sword.

The soldier barely managed to bring his sword to his chest. With the blades locked, the soldier couldn’t attack. He fell helplessly.

Thud.

He fell hard, landing on his rear. Enkrid pressed his sword to the soldier’s head. Everything happened in an instant. With these three fights, Enkrid had proven his skill. The fallen soldier looked up at the blade above him.

“…I lost.”

He admitted.

Naurillia had always revered the strong, earning its reputation as the land of knights.

Andrew and Mack. Vengeance, who was watching from behind. The elf company commander, who had come to watch. Rem, Ragna, and the rest of the accident-prone squad. Even the soldiers who had once mocked Enkrid.

No one spoke.

The sunlight angled, reflecting off the blade. It lit up half of Enkrid’s face. The light, the shadows, the cold air rising from his shoulders created a surreal scene.

It was as if they saw Enkrid in the heart of the battlefield, tearing through the sorcery-bound flag. They had denied and pushed away the truth, but now it settled in their minds. The one who had broken the fog of annihilation was their savior.

“Didn’t expect that.”

Someone muttered. It was an acknowledgment. When they didn’t know his skill, they criticized. Now, they couldn’t. Acting petty was over. The second defeated soldier spoke up.

“I spoke out of turn. I apologize.”

Enkrid nodded silently. The standing army of Border Guard was full of people like this. They couldn’t tolerate those who didn’t prove themselves. That was the rough nature of Border Guard’s forces.

Conversely, once proven, respect was given. Enkrid had earned respect by overwhelming mid-rank soldiers.

“Sorcery Breaker.”

Someone muttered. There were no cheers. It wasn’t the atmosphere for that, but the nickname seemed to stick.

The Sorcery Breaker. It was a bit much.

Enkrid thought and wondered what to do next. He spoke.

“Time to fight a high-ranking soldier.”

He had defeated three mid-rank soldiers with ease.

So, what next?

What was left?

A high-ranking soldier, of course.

Thinking of another fight already?

Kraiss widened his eyes, unable to believe his squad leader. Did he need to set up another duel?

“Whistle.”

Someone whistled and stepped forward, smiling.

“Interesting.”

The soldier had an eagle emblem on his badge. It marked him as part of the royal Frontier Guard, as notorious as Azpen’s Gray Hounds.

Known as Frontier Slaughterers, they were the most ruthless unit in Border Guard. A two-hundred-strong unit, all high-rank soldiers or higher, directly under the king.

One of them had stepped forward.