A Knight who Eternally Regresses - Chapter 58

Chapter 58: Once I Had It, I Could See

There was a time when even desire was forbidden. Dreaming and hoping for something, knowing it was unattainable, and living a life of desperation.

Such was Enkrid’s life.

But not now. Now he could reveal his desires and pursue them. No, it was even advantageous to do so now. After warming up with exercises, Enkrid had a brief session with Jaxon to learn how to throw a dagger.

“I want to learn more.”

“You seemed like a beginner.”

Jaxon muttered after watching Enkrid throw the dagger. Enkrid replied nonchalantly.

“There was a guy on the battlefield who threw like this. I watched and learned.”

Jaxon looked at Enkrid with a blank expression.

“Believe me, it’s true.”

“Is that so?”

Of course.

Geniuses are like that, aren’t they?

Living as a dullard, he had seen countless acts by those called geniuses or those with talent. Now he was pretending to be one of them. It was something he could do because he was repeating today. Revealing his desires was advantageous because it required maintaining such an attitude.

What are geniuses like?

Knowing what they see in front of them must be seized and they don’t hesitate to express their desires. Above all, he truly meant it. When it came to the desire to learn, Enkrid was the best on the continent.

“Very well.”

As always, the hesitation was brief, and seriousness followed. Jaxon taught properly. It was quite an enjoyable time. Enkrid repeatedly practiced holding and throwing the dagger.

In a short time, he was drenched in sweat.

“Aren’t you supposed to go on duty?”

“It’s fine.”

It was just enough to warm up his body, not exhaust it. Another day began anew. Or more precisely, it was the seventh today. Instead of walking with Jack and Bon on either side, Enkrid walked on the far left.

“It’s a superstition, I feel better walking on the far left.”

There was no arguing when Enkrid insisted. Jack and Bon had no choice.

“Really? That’s peculiar.”

“Alright, walk where you feel comfortable.”

Though the sweat quickly cooled, the heat warming his body remained. Even though it was the seventh repetition of today, the air felt subtly different. The sunlight pierced the cold wind, touching his skin. The chirping of winter birds brushed his ears.

The feel of the soil underfoot and the vibrations with each step were pleasant. The air, the ground, the soil, the wind. All of it wrapped around, touched, warmed, stayed, and flowed. The sky was clear too. The biting cold of winter, the fourth season, announced the year’s end with its icy winds. But even that wind brought a sense of freshness rather than just cold.

In the repetition of today, he had always endured with intensity. But somehow, this repetition felt a bit easier. A sense of peace wrapped around him. Not that he had forgotten the intensity. It was just comfortable. This path, this moment, everything.

‘I wonder why I feel at peace.’

He didn’t know. He knew he would die soon. The pain— the moment of death he would have to fight against was approaching. No matter how many times he died, it never became familiar.

“The throw happens in a moment. Before that, you must relax your entire body. Let your body go limp and focus in a state of calm. It will be difficult.”

Jaxon’s advice was half right. It was difficult, but not impossible. It was hard, but doable. Boldness which was granted by the Heart of the Beast made him watch everything until the end even with death in front of him. Focus Point made him perceive the same situation differently than ever before.

Thus, the combination of boldness and concentration allowed Enkrid to grasp the edge of talent.

Normally, he wouldn’t have obtained either boldness or concentration, but Enkrid now had two threads.

‘It works.’

With just a few teachings and three or four repetitions of practice, it became second nature. Luck played a huge role.

Normally, it would have taken countless repetitions to grasp it, but it was within his reach. That thin thread was immense joy for Enkrid. An unprecedented exhilaration.

“Are you okay?”

Bon asked from beside him. Walking with a blank expression, then grinning, he couldn’t have looked entirely normal. It was a relief he wasn’t drooling.

“Oh, um, I’m fine. Sorry for the unsightly display.”

Enkrid walked while wiping his mouth. Watching his lively steps, Jack and Bon exchanged glances. Jack signaled with his eyes.

‘That guy seems a bit crazy, right?’

‘I think so too.’

They conversed with just their eyes and gestures. It was a familiar routine. It was a signal used since their days in the Thieves’ Guild.

“The weather is nice.”

Enkrid said.

“It’s freezing.”

Jack pouted. They were supposed to lull their target into a false sense of security, but the target was already too relaxed, making them rebellious.

What was with this guy?

“Of course, it’s cold. It’s the last season of the year.”

Winter was harsh, but one shouldn’t miss the warmth amid the harshness and cold. Relaxing the body wasn’t something that could be done by merely thinking about it. Jaxon’s demonstration came to mind. Overlaid with the image of the half-elf assassin.

To relax the body, mental relaxation must come first. Mental burdens, threats, and anxieties. Enkrid threw them all away.

In a relaxed mind, he repeatedly recalled the half-elf assassin throwing the Whistling Dagger. It was much like the repetition of today.

What does one learn from defeat?

What did he learn from the countless situations where he threw away his life?

The stage of needing to throw away his life to gain something had passed.

Countless questions repeated in his mind. Thanks to his relaxed body and mind, his steps felt wobbly. He walked, but there was no strictness required for patrol duty. Walking like that, he soon reached the market.

“Squad Leader, what’s making you so happy?”

Jack asked, stopping his steps. He wasn’t really curious. He asked while subtly shifting his body. Bo also moved. Both were positioning themselves to strike. They subtly blocked the surrounding view, ready to draw their weapons and stab Enkrid at any moment.

Enkrid kept them in his sight and took a deep breath. Then he stepped forward. He tapped Jack’s shin with his toe. He thought he was relaxed, but his body moved more smoothly than ever before. A kick timed so perfectly the opponent couldn’t react.

Whack.

“Ugh!”

Jack bent forward, clutching his shin. Enkrid lightly, really lightly, moved his left hand to press down on Jack’s head and raised his knee.

Thud!

The sound of dough being pounded echoed. Jack’s head lifted again, showing a face smeared with blood from a broken nose.

“No way, I can’t sell it for that price!”

It was a moment faster than usual. It was an unexpected move, different from today’s plan. Unintentional, just following his body’s lead.

‘Doesn’t matter.’

Enkrid didn’t care. It felt like he had taken a drug that made him lightheaded and euphoric. Even if he had actually taken a drug, it wouldn’t have mattered. His body felt that light.

“What the!”

Bon looked startled. Enkrid’s hand was already reaching for Bon’s neck.

“Tch!”

Bon pulled back his neck in surprise. It was expected. When moving with the element of surprise, Bon always reacted in one pattern. He had seen that pattern over five times. He was familiar with it.

Instead of his outstretched left hand, Enkrid planted his left foot and twisted his body. Pivoting on his left foot, he turned. Not facing forward but to the side, extending his right hand.

In an instant, his reach lengthened, and his right hand touched Bon’s face. It didn’t end there.

Bang!

The sound of his punch hitting like a drum echoed. Enkrid’s fist, fueled by strength, speed, and concentration, shattered Bon’s face.

“Argh!”

Bon staggered back three or four steps, clutching his face.

Watching that, Enkrid smoothly turned his body. Maybe it was because he started a bit early, he didn’t know.

Even in the repetition of today, things didn’t always happen the same way. Everything could change. Enkrid knew this well.

In the direction he looked, he saw the half-elf. Without even taking off his rags, the elf’s hand moved. From below to above. A flash followed his right hand. It was a moment when he hadn’t prepared a defense.

But.

‘It doesn’t matter.’

Time slowed down for a moment. It was Enkrid’s second experience. A moment when concentration broke through limits. A crack in time experienced by those who reached the realm of geniuses.

In the last battle with Azpen, when he dodged the mustached soldier’s strike, he had a similar sense. It was the same now.

Of course, Enkrid wasn’t aware of it. His mind was still half enchanted. An enchanted mind, burning concentration, blade-like senses, and the boldness of a beast.

He saw the flash. He predicted its destination.

‘Can I dodge?’

No. There was no time. The gap in time closed. Enkrid’s brain, spinning rapidly, came to a conclusion.

Thunk! Whistle!

He blocked with his arm. The blade lodged in his left forearm, protecting his heart. He heard the noise of the Whistling Dagger, followed by pain in his forearm. A heavy impact and burning pain from the blade.

The pain felt distant. The surrounding commotion faded. Once he had it, he could see. Enkrid could see the Whistling Dagger’s trajectory.

He blocked it.

Looking up, he saw the half-elf assassin. The elf, having discarded his rags, was moving his hands continuously. Like a living crossbow.

No, even fiercer.

He couldn’t dodge the first one. But this time, he could. He saw the starting point of the hand and predicted the end of the flash.

Whiiiiiiish!

He perfectly dodged two and one grazed his cheek. The three whistles combined to make a strange harmony. Enkrid pulled the dagger from his forearm.

Blood flowed, but it wasn’t enough to incapacitate him. He blocked the point the assassin aimed for, hitting the spot he chose. His arm bore a scar, but he could still move. The leather armor on his forearm had done its job.

“You bastard.”

The half-elf, visibly angry, closed the distance. While closing in, he kept throwing flashes from somewhere in his body. He couldn’t dodge them all.

No, he could have held on longer, but today was different. Rottin had approached from behind. Enkrid hadn’t noticed.

Rottin pushed Enkrid’s back.

Thud.

That was it. Three daggers lodged in his heart, side, and neck, releasing noise. Horrific pain surged.

Enkrid’s body slowly collapsed. Summoning all his strength, he knelt on one knee, something hot surged from his throat. Unable to hold it back, he opened his mouth and blood foam spilled out.

Aaaah!

Only then did the surrounding screams reach his ears. His hazy mind returned to its original state. The pain became vivid. The half-elf assassin approached the fallen Enkrid.

His expression was not pleasant.

“You.”

He spat out a word but said no more.

A tenacious lover never misses its prey.

It was his turn to say those words. But he didn’t. Or rather, he couldn’t. The assassin’s eyes turned to Enkrid’s face.

“You bastard.”

He glared, like a toad full of venom. Enkrid was laughing.

“Hehehe.”

Even as he coughed up blood, he laughed. There had to be a misunderstanding. The elf felt mocked, but Enkrid had no such intention.

Dying, he thought.

‘Only seven times.’

He had repeated today seven times. But it wasn’t just a breakthrough; he saw beyond it.

Only seven times.

No, it couldn’t be called only.

He ran looking only at tomorrow, knowing no despair or frustration, making it possible.

A mediocre talent makes a human with endless effort. Endless effort lets a man grasp the edge of talent.

It was a miracle. No, there were no miracles. This was a reward gained by never giving in to despair or frustration in any repeated day.

Tomorrow, he would rise again. Enkrid believed he could end this.

“Crazy bastard.”

Thud!

The elf once again pierced Enkrid’s neck with a long blade. That was it. The final moment of life. Death approached, and darkness enveloped the world. Beyond the darkness, the boatman on the river appeared.

Hehe!

He mocked Enkrid again. Enkrid was curious about their next meeting. How that mocking laugh would change.

“Good morning.”

Another morning. Enkrid got up lightly.

He couldn’t say it was perfect, but he learned how to throw the Whistling Dagger. And though it wasn’t perfect, he learned the basic exercises of monks from Audin.

“It’s freezing, what’s so good?”

“Had a good dream.”

A very, very good dream. A day spent in a daze. That day, that today. Enkrid had glimpsed the life of the talented. He was immensely satisfied. At the same time, he saw the path forward.

The path— the way to overcome the wall before him.