A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

When Encrid stood idly on the platform, the soldiers in training looked at him with what seemed like resentment.

“If you run in, at least pretend to rest. It’s better that way.”

These were Rem’s words.

They did as they were told.

Did that become the driving force for them to keep running?

Who knows.

“Listen, I’m an expert at pushing people.”

Rem claimed this, so Encrid just watched quietly as instructed.

He wasn’t wrong.

Otherwise, there wouldn’t be such a haunted look in their eyes after just a week.

As they ran into the training ground, their eyes seemed to emit a fierce blue energy.

The pouring rain made it seem even more so.

Though the constant rain wasn’t exactly to his liking.

‘Good.’

He liked the look in their eyes. Just running made them full of anger.

There was no longer a reason to just stand and watch.

Even before repeating today’s routine, Encrid was already half-mad with training fervor.

His hands often burst open from daily sword swings and physical exertion.

Would it be any different now?

It was even harder because he had to hold back.

Thinking about Count Molsen while making them run made him want to swing his sword even more.

Encrid pushed his body to the limit even outside his personal training time. On the platform and off.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

“This is almost stupid.”

Krais muttered quietly as he watched, noting that Encrid was the same as always.

This was just another day in a series of such moments.

Encrid liked the sight of the angry soldiers’ eyes and the feeling that he was progressing.

“Now, let’s start swinging weapons.”

After making them run all day, he finally let them pick up weapons after a week.

No formation drills or organized training. That wasn’t Encrid’s area of expertise, nor something he could do.

He intended to develop their basic skills further.

Marcus watched all of this from afar.

“All I did was give him a title.”

Why is he working so hard?

The adjutant next to him nodded in agreement.

“Indeed.”

“Any deserters?”

“They seem to have the desire, but…”

Marcus questioned further as the adjutant trailed off.

“They do?”

“They don’t seem to have the strength for it.”

Without the strength to run away, one cannot escape.

That was Encrid’s training method.

To Marcus, Encrid seemed to enjoy the cheers and praise of others.

However, there was something more important.

Encrid was a man who pursued his goals relentlessly.

Before the cheers and praise, he had something to do, and he did it.

‘What does one need to become a Knight?’

Sharpen your sword.

Then just do it. Every day, the same way.

Encrid did just that. It was impossible not to be impressed by it. It was impossible not to admire it.

So, what is he doing it for now?

‘He seemed to be waiting for the title of Training Company Commander.’

He moved as if he had been waiting for it.

Now, it seemed he enjoyed the hostility and malice as much as the cheers and praise.

‘Or does he simply enjoy tormenting others?’

That thought crossed his mind.

Marcus just felt lucky that he didn’t have to go down there.

Bell had a connection with Encrid.

Encrid had saved his life and they had met several times since.

Therefore,

‘He’ll go easy.’

As a person, he thought Encrid would understand that not everyone could go through the same rigorous training process he did.

So, he’d go easy.

He would. He must. Bell believed so.

That belief shattered in two days. The tower built on that belief disappeared without a trace. It collapsed completely. It crumbled.

“Gasp, gasp, ugh.”

His breath was catching up to his throat.

“If you fall behind, you get hit?”

Behind them, the Mad Axe Murderer was chasing with a grin.

He swung his axe through the air with a smirk. Even if he didn’t actually kill them, it seemed certain he would beat them, and getting hit by that axe would undoubtedly be far more painful than running.

“Gotta run, right?”

At first, they only ran around the training ground, but now the Mad Axe Murderer chased them, making it even worse. They had to run for their lives.

In reality, if they fell behind, they got hit and had to run again in a continuous cycle.

“Do you want to kill me? Then go ahead. Ambush me, surprise me. Come at me, comrades.”

His words, delivered with a chuckle, made several soldiers’ shoulders tremble.

They genuinely wanted to beat him to death.

Bell didn’t. He couldn’t. Even running left him gasping for breath.

After sprinting up several hills at full speed, they returned to the training ground.

“Pick up your weapons.”

After that, it was a repetition of simple basics.

“If you want, I’ll fight you anytime. Just come at me, please?”

In between, the Mad Axe Murderer’s taunts continued, and a few soldiers even challenged the seemingly calm, blonde-haired swordsman who appeared easier to approach.

“If you can last five moves in a duel, you can rest?”

“Because it proves your skill.”

His name was Ragna.

He was, well, not what he seemed.

He knew how to keep his hand steady.

Crack! Thud!

When he swung his wooden sword, it was almost impossible to see. If it hadn’t been a wooden sword, or even if the blade had been blunted but made of metal…

‘He’d be dead.’

Ragna looked at the unconscious soldier and spoke indifferently.

“Weak.”

No, damn it.

It’s not that we’re weak, it’s that you’re ridiculously strong, isn’t it?

Bell had words rising to his throat at that statement, but he held them back.

“If you don’t like it, come at me. Please, I beg you.”

The Mad Axe Murderer’s words cooled Bell’s excitement.

Challenge him and you’ll die. Understood.

After sprinting all morning and having lunch, they spent the entire afternoon swinging their weapons at full strength.

Simple training.

Except, having to repeat it every day made it truly hell.

“Could he be a demon?”

Bell silently agreed with his comrade’s words, spoken before sleep.

‘Damn demon.’

But there was nothing to be done, as that man trained even longer, harsher, and more brutally than the soldiers.

“Come watch the duels, brothers.”

There was Encrid fighting a big religious soldier.

“The Mad Axe Murderer takes the stage.”

Rem, whose nickname given by the soldiers, was now spoken aloud, was sparring.

He fought against Ragna and also against Jaxon.

Encrid fought valiantly but didn’t win.

No, he got beaten even more harshly.

Audin kicked his ankle, and then, with unexpected speed from such a large body, delivered a spinning kick.

With that one blow, Encrid flew. He became a bird, flying backward and crashing into the area where training weapons were piled on one side of the training ground.

Boom!

He landed headfirst in the muddy area made worse by the days of rain.

Isn’t he going to die like that? Startled, they stopped involuntarily.

“If you’re going to rest, die and rest.”

Then Rem, who played the role of instructor, spoke to the soldiers. Or perhaps Jaxon approached and poked them in the ribs.

Move, that’s what he meant.

Even as they reflexively swung their arms and wielded their weapons, their eyes didn’t leave the fallen Encrid.

The demon of training and discipline rose again.

He looked like he had come back from hell.

His head was bleeding, and his body was covered in mud, dripping with brownish muck.

Something brownish fell from his arm, drawing their gazes to his face.

Is he okay?

That was everyone’s thought.

“Hmm, that hurts.”

And that’s what he said.

He was a madman. A lunatic obsessed with the sword.

‘Sword-crazy lunatic.’

Bell swallowed the sudden thought.

“It’s becoming difficult to hold back like before, Company Commander. Especially when you come at us like that.”

It seemed Encrid had crossed some line.

It was a scene they saw almost every day.

At first, they were shocked, then horrified, and after a month, they started to adapt.

As summer passed and autumn approached.

Two months of relentless training with only half-day breaks every ten days, there was talk of needing to clear out the beasts.

“Recently, the number of beasts around has increased. There’s talk of a beast with fangs like a horse. It’s an extermination operation.”

The Battalion Commander spoke, and the 2nd Company Commander led the way.

“Whew, damn, does that mean no training today?”

It was Vengeance, the Platoon leader. His eyes were filled with venom, and his whole body exuded a blade-like aura.

In just two months, people had changed.

“We’ll be fighting all day, won’t we?”

Bell, standing nearby, responded.

Bell’s demeanor had changed as well.

Otherwise, they would have considered desertion.

There would be nothing more ridiculous than dying during training.

“First, let’s catch those mad foals.”

Vengeance said, shaking his longbow. He had become stronger and received a new longbow.

It was half again as large as the previous one. The sinew used for the bowstring was tougher and stronger than before.

All the archers under his command had similar equipment.

Marcus spared no expense in arming the unit. That was a pleasing thing.

Leaving training to the Mad Company Commander was the worst decision, though.

“There!”

Three soldiers in the scouting unit spotted a group of approaching beasts.

Typically, beasts were carnivorous, but occasionally, herbivores became beasts too.

The most troublesome among them were the horses.

Horses with fangs were dangerous even just by charging. They became weapons in themselves with their physical assaults.

“There are more than ten of them!”

At the scouts’ report, the 2nd Company Commander shouted.

“Archers, ready!”

Vengeance obeyed the command promptly. The 2nd Company Commander, despite his rank, participated in the training himself.

He was a man of loyalty.

The 1st Company Commander, on the other hand, was said to have skipped training.

Responding to the call for archers, Vengeance’s platoon moved into position.

“Fire!”

Vengeance spoke as he himself drew an arrow and placed it on the string. The longbow groaned and twisted as he pulled it back.

The time when his muscles would scream was over.

Though it had only been two months, he had spent that time with a demon far worse than the devilish horse beasts baring their fangs and snorting.

Would those days prove to be in vain?

Thwack!

The arrow shot off the string and lodged into the head of a horse beast.

The sound of it flying through the air and the thud of it splitting the beast’s skull was oddly satisfying.

The horse’s head jerked up as it was struck, and it tumbled to the ground mid-charge.

Vengeance was gripped by a strange sensation.

He felt as though every muscle fiber was responding exactly as he commanded.

The increased strength and stamina from harsh training provided him with a new perspective.

More than anything, the extreme experiences of the past two months had given him a sense of mental composure.

‘One more shot.’

Even as the horse beasts charged, he felt he had more time.

“Fire!”

As he drew back the string, the horse beast’s head appeared large. Especially its head.

His concentration burned hotter than ever before.

Seeing that, Vengeance released the string.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

In unison with his subordinates, they pulled back the strings and let them loose.

In no time, the arrows killed ten horse beasts.

The arrows flew, piercing heads and bodies indiscriminately.

“Neigh!”

The death cries of the horse beasts echoed.

“They’re coming again!”

There was no time for admiration as the scouts’ shout echoed. No sooner had they killed ten than another dozen horse beasts were charging from behind.

They closed the distance too quickly to shoot arrows.

“Engage!”

The 2nd Company Commander’s shout rang out, and soon the battle between the horse beasts and humans began.

It wasn’t possible to achieve phenomenal growth in just two months.

However, their strength had increased, their stamina improved, and their focus sharpened.

Bell felt it too.

His body felt light. Fighting horse beasts was far easier than dealing with monsters like Encrid.

“Kill them!”

“Crush them!”

“Slaughter them!”

They shouted as they punched holes in the horse beasts’ heads or cut through their hardened muscles.

They stabbed with spears and swung glaives taken as trophies from previous battles.

Whoosh!

The 2nd Company Commander also wielded a glaive, his strength unmatched.

With a swing of his glaive, he severed a horse’s foreleg.

Splurt! Purple blood sprayed out.

The blood of beasts was black, and the blood of horse beasts was often blue or purple.

The distinctive blood of the beasts splattered everywhere.

The battle was almost anticlimactic.

One of the infantrymen, covered in blood, spoke up.

“Why are they so easy?”

He meant it genuinely. There was no sense of crisis.

Whistle!

Though a single griffin swooped down afterward, Vengeance’s archers hit its wings and the soldiers rushed in to hack it to death.

The griffin, while worthy of being called a high-grade beast, was manageable.

After all, it was just one.

After the battle, there was no doubt among them that their skills had improved.

Originally, the Border Guard Reserve Unit was already close to the battlefield.

They were always skilled, but now they had gone beyond that.

Back at the base, Encrid praised them in his own way.

“We haven’t run today, have we?”

Beast hunting was beast hunting, but they still needed to run, didn’t they?

“Damn bastard.”

Bell finally let out the curse he’d been holding back. The absurdity of Encrid’s words broke down his resistance, making him express his frustration.

“Request for a sparring session?”

Swearing and resisting were considered requests for a duel, a rule set by Rem.

“It’s been a while, Bell.”

Encrid nodded and called out to Bell.

There was no backing down from this.

He couldn’t ask for mercy.

If he decided to confront him, he had to give his best.

It was something Encrid always emphasized.

Now was the time to charge forward.

Training continued.

Despite Bell getting beaten up, Encrid did his job.

And it wasn’t just training.

“They’ve arrived. Our first guest.”

Before evening, Krais came looking for Encrid.

Encrid wasn’t tired of the daily repetitive training, but he felt a brief thrill and joy knowing someone had come to see him.

“A big shot right from the start.”

Krais added.

It was an exciting statement.

Following Krais, Encrid stepped into the market square.

The opponent was waiting at Vanessa’s Pumpkin Inn.

As Krais had confidently said, if rumors spread, people wouldn’t have to seek them out—they would come.

And so, the first guest had arrived.

“Is it you? The former soldier?”

A man stood in the training yard behind the inn. Two noticeable scars marked his face. One ran across the bridge of his nose, and the other deeply cut into his cheek.

His face exuded an intimidating presence.

So did the weapon in his hand.

A morning star adorned with sharp spikes at its end.

Each spike looked razor-sharp, and the weight of the iron head seemed exceptional.

“I’m Ibarin.”

The man introduced himself. Krais then added from behind.

“Mercenary Ibarin, he’s very famous. Known in the city as ‘Constraining Ibarin’.”

“My nickname seems more extravagant.”

Encrid murmured as he looked at his opponent, and Krais responded dismissively.

“Yes, indeed. Like bees and butterflies to a splendid flower.”

The nickname Krais had spread through rumors was more flamboyant.

The Soldier Who Ended the War. It was embarrassing, but it was what Encrid wanted. He stood before Ibarin.

Before Encrid could say anything, the mercenary with the striking scars, Ibarin, spoke first.

“Let’s have a bout.”

Encrid nodded.

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