A Knight who Eternally Regresses - Chapter 65

Chapter 65: Those Who Cross Over

‘He predicted the enemy’s actions.’

Jaxon attributed it to the efficiency of the blade’s technique he had taught. Seeing it put to such effective use made him feel a warm satisfaction. It pleased him greatly.

However, Jaxon didn’t acknowledge his feelings. He wasn’t used to introspection and didn’t know how to process his emotions.

‘It’s nothing significant.’

People dying before his eyes was merely an annoyance. Why should he care about Enkrid’s welfare?

It meant nothing. Or so he thought. Jaxon believed playing soldier was trivial. His goals were clear. Yet, he still felt uneasy. Because of this, Jaxon kept his eyes on the guild leader behind Enkrid.

‘I don’t like his face.’

Jaxon found an excuse.

It wasn’t about the squad leader. He simply didn’t like the guy’s face. So, if he attacked, Jaxon would kill him. Here, he would be dutiful. Rem had seen Enkrid’s beastly heart wielded as a weapon of audacity.

To see him charging into the enemy’s range of a thrusting spear… A few months ago, he wouldn’t have imagined the squad leader acting this way. At some point, his skills had dramatically improved, centered on Rem’s teachings.

‘Of course.’

It pleased him but assassins had targeted Enkrid.

‘We should kill them all.’

Rem wanted to obliterate them. Ragna saw traces of himself in Enkrid’s swordsmanship.

‘Where did he learn it?’

It was excellent. The way he shifted his center of gravity, the way he lifted his feet, the way he thrust his sword— everything. Even though he occasionally helped with swordsmanship, to be this skilled required excruciating training.

‘Fascinating.’

Someone he thought lacked talent suddenly displayed great skill. Ragna had always liked Enkrid. His relentless perseverance inspired Ragna.

Assassins and criminals had targeted such a man?

‘It’s easier to kill them all.’

Forgetting his usual laziness, Ragna decided to annihilate the crime guild. However, the command was Enkrid’s. He would follow his lead.

Audin examined Enkrid’s body with his eyes, tapping his own thigh.

‘A well-trained body.’

But it wasn’t a systematically built body. The monks of the temple build the body before honing skills. It was a secret technique of physical training. Audin had refined it into his own method.

‘If he builds his body, he’ll improve.’

The squad leader was a man who knew how to work diligently. Audin’s mind wandered.

Why didn’t God grant talent to such a hardworking man?

‘A mere human cannot fathom God’s intentions.’

It was a thorny thought for him, causing a sharp pain in his heart. Yet before him was a man who overcame the wall of talent through effort. A man who believed only in himself, disregarding God’s will.

‘My Lord.’

Audin prayed silently.

‘Watch over him. May the one who dreams of shining not die in vain by a blind blade.’

Just like his heartfelt prayer, he didn’t appreciate someone targeting Enkrid. A man like that dying from a stab in the back would be a terrible waste.

However, Audin had no intention of killing anyone.

‘Break both legs and let the leader take an arm.’

So, he would take everything except their lives.

A single strike.

The shock Enkrid delivered was significant. Yet no one crossed the line.

‘It’s not enough.’

To overwhelm them with force, he needed to deliver continuous shocks. Enkrid realized his position. He didn’t always have to step forward himself.

“Rem.”

“Yes?”

“Kill three.”

Using the excuse of avoiding the devil’s dandruff, this was both a strategy and a mission, and Enkrid was the squad leader. Rem stepped forward without hesitation. The shock Enkrid delivered had not yet faded.

Rem twirled his two hand axes and ran. He moved so quickly that he seemed to vanish. Rem appeared in front of a thug with a vicious look and a spiked club. It was a familiar sight. Rem’s arm whipped like a lash. The axe blade at the end of the lash flashed.

Wham! Thud!

Whack!

The first axe stroke severed the thug’s neck. The second split the head of the thug to his right. The last strike swung left, the axe handle striking another thug’s neck.

Three thugs were killed in quick succession— one beheaded, one split open, and one with a broken neck. Afterward, Rem swung his axes diagonally to shake off the blood. Blood droplets scattered on the floor. Then he turned his back on the thugs and walked back.

“Killed three.”

Enkrid believed two shocks were enough to give them a chance.

“Those who want to cross over.”

It was the third time he made the same offer. If they didn’t heed it now, there was no choice. He couldn’t show mercy to those trying to kill him. It was a time of kill or be killed. They should know that if they tried to kill, they could die.

“Are you from Border Guard?”

The aristocratic-looking guild leader asked.

“No.”

Enkrid led only a small squad, albeit a unique one.

“We’re infantry from the Cyprus Brigade of the Border Guard.”

He loosely gripped his sword and stated his affiliation. There was no reason to hide it. A few who were hesitating to put down their weapons froze under the guild leader’s fierce glare.

“Try to survive, and I’ll see if I let you.”

He was speaking to his own men. Kraiss’s earlier words came to mind. Gielpin ruled through fear. If they defied him, he would break their limbs and cut out their tongues.

“Don’t be swayed! They’re just men. Stab them, and they die. They aren’t even properly armored! Kill them! No one survives a mob beating!”

Enkrid thought it was a reasonable tactic. Crushing with numbers. It was generally effective. Trained soldiers were most efficient in group combat. In smaller skirmishes, even a thug could kill a soldier.

If a thug found an opening and stabbed, how could anyone survive?

In small fights, thugs could have the advantage. Of course, this didn’t apply to knights or those beyond human limits.

And it didn’t apply now.

“Don’t do it.”

Enkrid warned. His Troublemaker Squad fought unconventionally, outside traditional strategy and tactics. They thrived in battles against large numbers, coming back unscathed, much less thirty armed thugs, none of whom were soldiers. This was a suicide mission for the thugs.

“Let them be. Some only cry when they see a coffin.”

“Brother, it seems divine punishment is required.”

“Stand back and watch.”

Oddly, even Audin and Ragna seemed eager. Jaxon stepped forward silently. He drew his sword and took a step forward. A hasty thug rushed forward, brandishing a scimitar. The blade swung toward Jaxon’s head. Jaxon parried the scimitar with his sword, letting the blade slide off and then sliced downward.

Rip.

His sword cut through the thug’s abdomen. It seemed effortless, but it was enough to split the thug’s belly and reveal his guts.

“Gah.”

The thug, spilling pink intestines, collapsed to his knees and fell over. That was the beginning.

“Only kill those who attack.”

Enkrid commanded. Rem swung his axes without moving from his spot. He was a human blender. A thug swinging a flail had it cut in half, but before he could retreat, his head was split open by an axe.

He fell backward, spilling blood and brains. Ragna mechanically swung his arming sword downward. No fancy techniques, but with each swing, more bodies piled up. Skulls split and shoulders were severed. Audin wielded two short clubs, deflecting incoming blades.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Audin’s side was the noisiest. He deflected weapons and closed the distance. He moved quickly, almost as fast as Rem. Once close, he swung his clubs to break legs.

Crack, snap!

“Arghhh!”

The screams of those with broken legs echoed through the clearing. Enkrid worried that the patrol might show up. Fortunately, no one came.

Kraiss found it expected.

‘Half an hour from the tunnel.’

The hideout was at the edge of the city. This area was likely a high-end residential district, invested in by wealthy merchants. Usually, it was sparsely populated. Plus, the Gielpin guild was a crime organization. They probably bribed the higher-ups.

‘They ensured no one would come by.’

Better to have no one around than patrols passing by. Kraiss wasn’t fazed by their numbers nor felt threatened. He was part of the Troublemaker Squad. He roughly knew his squad’s capabilities.

Enkrid, now a high-ranking soldier, struggled only when facing tougher foes.

‘All of us are at least as good as the Border Guard.’

So, the answer was clear.

The thugs stood no chance.

Kraiss’s mind buzzed with future plans. He had even leaked some information on purpose.

‘Deal with that friend later.’

The leaked information and the current situation were partly his doing.

Would anyone notice?

Maybe the squad leader. He seemed simple but could be sharp. Rem might figure it out with clues, but he didn’t understand city dynamics well.

‘Probably not.’

Ragna and Audin wouldn’t even consider it. Jaxon would focus on his own goals, ignoring other details.

So, it was fine.

Meanwhile, bodies piled up, and Audin’s side echoed with screams.

“Arghhh!”

Audin didn’t stop at breaking one leg. He made sure to return and break the other leg as well. And he didn’t forget to preach.

“I don’t expect you to be saints. Just stop living a life that harms your neighbors.”

Breaking legs while giving a sermon meant no one understood a word he said. Still, Audin remained consistent.

Enkrid’s eyes were busy. At first, he was mesmerized by Jaxon’s disciplined movements.

‘Orthodox swordsmanship.’

It was basic orthodox swordsmanship. Using the opponent’s blade for a counterattack, directing the opponent’s movements with precise sword paths. And there was also fast swordsmanship. A balanced attack and defense, the essence of orthodox swordsmanship.

Beyond simple sword forms, Jaxon’s judgment in wielding the sword stood out. He chose the surest means to kill. His sword was meant for killing. There was much to learn.

Next, Enkrid’s eyes turned to Rem. It was just him smashing approaching enemies, but the trajectory of his axe created unexpected patterns.

‘How can he do that?’

It was a unique form, neither orthodox nor unorthodox. It was understandable. Rem’s axe swings relied entirely on instinct. If categorized, it would be eccentric swordsmanship.

Of course, since he used an axe, it would be eccentric axemanship. Enkrid learned from this as well.

Ragna’s heavy swordsmanship was the same. It showed the extreme of basic swordsmanship he had learned. Any sloppy block was immediately penetrated to hit the target. Each strike shattered skulls and severed shoulders.

Audin’s martial arts were another matter. Basic swordsmanship fundamentally relied on martial arts. Without using fists and feet, one couldn’t claim to have proper swordsmanship. Learning close combat was essential. In this regard, Audin’s fighting provided the most to learn.

He watched carefully how Audin broke legs with two short clubs. Previously, he wouldn’t have grasped the actions even if he saw them, but now the movements were engraved in his mind.

Enkrid was so absorbed in observing and stealing techniques from the four that he forgot his surroundings. Translating these observations into actual skills would be another matter.

But there was much to learn.

The fight didn’t last long. It couldn’t take long. Many lost the will to fight. In the midst of this, Jaxon, uncharacteristically tenacious, carved a path. Towards the guild leader with the cane.

Jaxon swiftly closed the distance and swung his sword. A downward horizontal slash aimed at the head. The guild leader drew a concealed blade from his cane, revealing a sword stick. The elongated blade blocked Jaxon’s sword with a metallic clang.

The two men’s swords sparked. Two henchmen behind the guild leader tried to intervene.

“Don’t.”

“Let them fight.”

Rem and Ragna, who had approached, spoke. The two henchmen looked at each other.

Should they attack?

Their eyes turned to the path Rem and Ragna had taken. It was a trail of blood. Only corpses lay behind them. The survivors were those too scared to fight and those who hadn’t moved.

The two henchmen silently lowered their weapons. Both held daggers. They sheathed them and knelt quietly. It was a gesture of surrender and submission.

“You bastards!”

The guild leader yelled, seeing his henchmen’s actions.

But what could he do?

The most important thing in the world was one’s own life. Only the ones swept up by the mob mentality were pitiful. Jaxon’s face remained impassive. His brown eyes, ringed with red, fixed on the guild leader.

“I surrender!”

The guild leader shouted. Jaxon didn’t listen.

“I said I surrender! Why are you doing this? If you want money, I can give you money!”

His tone grew urgent.

Clang clang clang clang clang!

Jaxon’s sword rapidly struck the sword stick five times, each blow sparking in the winter night. Among the night’s darkness and the flickering torches. Among the dead bodies and the groaning wounded. Among the frightened and those who had caused the fear.

Jaxon’s voice rang out.

“I don’t like your face.”

‘What kind of bullshit is this?’

That was the guild leader’s last thought. Jaxon’s sword tore through the guild leader’s fine clothes and sliced his throat.

Shkkk.

A chilling sound.

The guild leader died with wide, indignant eyes. He still had much to say. He knew who backed him. How much money he had funneled to those in power. It was unfair and infuriating.

Naturally. Those killed by the sword always found it unfair. Jaxon let his bloody sword hang by his side. By then, all the other fights had ended.

Enkrid closed his eyes to replay his squad members’ movements and opened them. It was time to sort things out.

In the cold night air of winter, with torches blazing, Enkrid stepped forward. He happened to be standing right in the center. Surrounded by torches, shadows gathered, and all eyes focused on him. With everyone’s attention, Enkrid spoke.

“Anyone else want to cross over?”

One sentence was enough.

All the survivors dropped their weapons.