A Knight who Eternally Regresses - Chapter 57

Chapter 57: Seeing It Made Me Want It

It was a sudden question.

Not that Jaxon ever got flustered. His face remained as stern as ever. Jaxon paused briefly, about to speak but then stopped. He seemed to be contemplating.

Enkrid stood with his arms hanging loosely, quietly waiting for Jaxon to speak. Pressing him wouldn’t make it happen any faster. The contemplation was brief.

Soon, Jaxon’s breath formed a white puff in the air.

“The Whistling Dagger, once known as the ‘Silent Dagger’ for its speed, was called that because it was as fast as a mere whisper. It moves so fast it’s hard for the human eye to track. That’s why it’s difficult to counter. Most people die not knowing what hit them. Such is the nature of the Whistling Dagger.”

“If you had to face it?”

Was there a way to avoid the assassin?

There didn’t seem to be one for now. The assassin had prepared meticulously. He had used spies among the allies and had thoroughly prepared for the kill.

At least, it looked that way to Enkrid. With his limbs bound in chains, he had to be dragged wherever his captor wanted. It was time to find a way out.

“If you must?”

Jaxon tilted his head slightly. It must have sounded like a strange question to him.

“Yes, if I must.”

Enkrid emphasized once more. Jaxon looked deeply into Enkrid’s eyes. Enkrid did not avoid his gaze. Blue eyes and reddish-brown eyes clashed in the air.

Jaxon’s eyes seemed to ask.

‘Why do you need this?’

Enkrid ignored it.

Equivalent Exchange Jaxon sold necessary information. He was not someone who asked ‘why.’ Jaxon’s expression hardened as he spoke.

“This information won’t come cheap.”

“The more expensive, the better.”

He meant it. Today’s ‘today’ would not be the last ‘today.’ When morning came again, the value of the information Jaxon provided would drop significantly. It would become something Enkrid already knew, at least to him.

Jaxon’s expression soured, as if troubled. Enkrid ignored even that. What was urgent wasn’t Jaxon’s feelings.

“You need to see the hand movement before the sound. Everything depends on the hand movement.”

Jaxon briefly explained the countermeasure. Don’t be fooled by the sound. If you hear it, it’s already too late. Focus on the opponent’s movements.

“Never lose sight of the opponent, especially if they are a top-tier assassin who knows how to throw invisibly.”

The Whistling Dagger’s most significant feature was its thin blade.

The blade was sharpened repeatedly to penetrate even the toughest steel breastplates. If the thrower’s skill was exceptional, it could indeed pierce steel plates. Jaxon added that skilled throwers sometimes used multiple thin blades layered together.

Jaxon explained two main ways to throw a dagger.

One was to swing the hand widely to increase power. The other was to throw it without showing the throw.

“You’ve seen me throw a dagger, right?”

Enkrid asked. Dagger throwing was a skill he once intensely trained.

“Yes, it was like throwing a stone.”

Jaxon dismissed Enkrid’s skill with a single comment. He implied it was better to throw a stone than a dagger. Throwing a stone would at least have some impact, while the dagger wouldn’t even hit the target.

‘Harsh.’

Even though Enkrid was usually indifferent to such things, Jaxon’s words were sharp enough to pierce through his indifference. It didn’t feel like a dagger to the heart, but at least it felt like one lodged somewhere in his arm.

“Teach me. Properly.”

Enkrid said, a bit irritated.

“Then learn. I’ll add it to the list of transactions.”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t like it?”

He didn’t dislike it. For someone like Enkrid, who was always eager to learn, the offer was like an oasis in the desert. Always thirsty, Enkrid quickly nodded.

“No, I like it.”

“Start with how to hold it.”

With patrol duty approaching, the lesson was brief. At most, half an hour. In that short time, Enkrid saw Jaxon anew.

“Practice is essential for it to be meaningful.”

Holding and throwing thin blades, holding and throwing hand axes, holding and throwing heavy daggers. Each had a different grip and throw technique. There was always something to learn.

As he turned to leave for patrol duty, Jaxon spoke. It was a small but powerful voice.

“Don’t create situations where you have to face them. That’s the first thing.”

Though Jaxon had been subtly prickly throughout, his final words were filled with concern. Enkrid wondered what he had given these people.

‘Be kind without reason.’

Not a romantic relationship, nor had he shared deep friendships with them, yet. Jaxon, Rem, and Ragna treated him like a child left by the water.

‘Or maybe not.’

They never tried to follow him to the battlefield or during other missions, so he wasn’t exactly a child left by the water. A pointless thought.

“Sure.”

In reality, he had no intention of doing so. You couldn’t avoid what you wanted to avoid.

“Are you on duty as a Squad Leader? Now that you’re a high-rank soldier? Damn, congrats.”

It was Jack. Of course, Bon was with him.

“Let’s go.”

He once again plunged into the wave of today. The icy air chilled him to the bone, but he wore an extra layer, making it almost like wearing armor. The thick clothes and Audin’s exercises helped warm his body.

The cold felt more bearable.

“No way I can give it for that price!”

Always the same scene in today’s marketplace. Enkrid used a merchant’s shout as his cue. It was around this time.

As the leather merchant’s scolding voice rang out, the rag-covered half-elf appeared. Simultaneously, Jack and Bon flanked him.

Enkrid had no intention of wasting any day. He had a plan for today as well.

He tripped Jack with his left foot.

“Ugh.”

On his left, Jack fell forward. As soon as Jack fell, Enkrid drew his sword from his right side. It was a sword called a Guard Sword. A broad, thick blade also used as a shield.

Shing, thud.

“Crazy!”

Bon exclaimed in shock. Understandably so. Enkrid had sliced Jack’s neck with the broad sword.

“Gurgle.”

There was no time for a dying scream. Jack, with his throat cut, collapsed, clutching his neck, blood spilling onto the ground. The sight of fallen Jack made people scream.

“Ahhh!”

“Ugh!”

The surrounding merchants backed away. No one wanted to be accidentally killed. Bon flinched. Enkrid didn’t allow him to move. The broad blade moved again from his hand. A downward strike aimed at Bo’s collarbone.

Clang!

“You bastard!”

Bo blocked with his own dagger. It was a thin, stabbing weapon. He probably intended to use it to stab Enkrid’s side if things went wrong. Enkrid pressed down and pushed, forcing Bon to retreat.

He bought himself time and covered his heart with the broad blade, turning his body. It all happened in just a few breaths. If he hadn’t prepared, it was enough time to be stunned and freeze.

‘Up to this point.’

The plan had worked. Enkrid’s gaze met the assassin’s.

The assassin pushed back his hood. His appearance was strangely unpleasant. His eyes showed curiosity and excitement.

And it began again.

‘Not the sound, the hand.’

He closed his ears and focused all his senses on his eyes. He predicted the next move based on the visual information. It was a technique Jaxon had taught him.

Thunk!

Enkrid expected the assassin to aim for his heart. If not that, then his head. His focus paid off, and he saw the blade turn into a flash of light.

But he couldn’t see where the blade would land.

So, he covered his heart and turned his head. The Whistling Dagger thrown by the assassin struck his right forearm.

A searing pain tore through his forearm, and his fingers lost strength. It was a fatal injury that would be impossible to recover from without divine healing.

“Damn.”

A hollow laugh escaped.

An unexpected strike. He had protected his heart, so the assassin aimed for his arm. Instead of breaking through the shield, he targeted the shield-bearer. A different perspective.

‘It’s not an amateur assassin.’

The already established fact etched itself into his mind again.

Whistle.

The second whistle sounded, and the dagger pierced his heart. Did this bastard have some grudge against him?

He seemed to only feel satisfied when he drove a dagger into Enkrid’s heart.

“Cough.”

He coughed up blood. It gushed out, and on his knees, he propped himself up with his left arm. A shadow loomed over his head.

“Interesting guy, the tenacious lover never…”

“Misses its prey.”

Enkrid squeezed out his last strength to steal the assassin’s words. He looked up at the half-elf, who wore a bewildered expression. His mouth half-opened, he couldn’t continue speaking, his lips quivering before uttering a single word like a question.

“You?”

Surprised? You should be.

He was a guy who always moved as if he had everything planned. Enkrid wanted to see his expression break.

He was satisfied.

“See you again.”

The assassin wouldn’t remember, but Enkrid would remember today’s today. He was telling him they would meet again in the next repitition.

The assassin was startled by Enkrid’s words.

“A trap?”

The half-elf looked around.

Hiring a top-tier assassin to kill just a single soldier was indeed excessive. It would make sense if it were a trap. The implication that Enkrid might survive this encounter led the assassin to think there was more to it.

Of course, it was all a misunderstanding.

There was no trap.

Enkrid’s head slumped forward with a thud. Another day ended.

The boatman appeared again, mocking him with laughter.

‘Does this bastard have nothing better to do?’ Enkrid thought as he faced today once more.

“Ugh, it’s freezing.”

Rem’s whining voice could be heard from the morning.

“Move around to warm up. It helps a bit.”

Enkrid preempted Audin’s advice and got up to stretch. A body warmed up was definitely better than one stiff from the cold. That was certain. In that sense, Audin’s exercises were undoubtedly beneficial.

As he stretched, Audin approached and asked.

“Where did you learn that?”

From you, but he couldn’t say that honestly.

“From a passing monk.”

Audin had said the exercises he taught originated from a temple. In other words, it was one of the training methods of monks who used physical combat as part of their discipline.

“You’ve learned it well.”

Audin joined him in stretching.

“When it’s cold, the best thing to do is huddle under a blanket. Can’t you get some heated leather or something? Now that you’re a Squad Leader, you should take care of the squad’s cold.”

Rem grumbled, and Enkrid engaged in some light banter with him. Soon, Jaxon returned.

“Let’s talk.”

Enkrid immediately took Jaxon outside.

“Hey, where are you going without me?”

Rem continued to grumble from behind.

“I want to learn how to handle the Whistling Dagger.”

One thing Enkrid had learned from repeating today was that it was better to ask directly for what he needed than to waste time persuading.

“Where did you hear about that?”

“You pick up things here and there. I want to learn.”

“The price?”

“Whatever you want, I’ll even write you a blank check.”

Famous trading companies issued promissory notes, and the most famous story involved the continent’s top trading company, Rengadis.

Rengadis’ head had a son who joined a monster hunting party out of a sense of adventure. When the family learned of this, they went searching for him, but he was already in danger. The Imperial Knights, passing by, saved him.

In gratitude, the Rengadis family gave the Imperial Knights a blank check, promising to pay any amount within their means. This story became so famous that “blank check” became a common expression, meaning anything short of one’s life.

Jaxon frowned.

“You shouldn’t make such promises lightly.”

“I want to learn that badly.”

Enkrid meant it. He wanted to have, to learn, the skill of the half-elf assassin’s Whistling Dagger. His desire burned. Seeing the fire in Enkrid’s eyes, Jaxon nodded.

In those eyes, he saw a flame that would destroy and consume everything it touched— a flame named desire.