A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

And now, behold the chaos-stricken battlefield.

Today has become an exceptional day, one of the best among the many repeated ‘todays’.

It had turned into utter chaos, the most chaotic of all.

‘It’s working.’

He had instigated a melee, and it had resulted in a massacre of the lycanthropes.

Although many soldiers had died as well, the soldiers, even if they had charged in recklessly, had the advantage of fighting in small groups with a minimum formation.

‘The soldiers will win.’

While catching his breath at the edge of the chaos he had orchestrated, Roger charged at him.

Roger lunged with his spear, the spearhead looking like a mere dot.

It was a frightening thrust.

Instead of making a large movement, Encrid subtly twisted his body.

His gambeson was already tattered, but he trusted in the sturdiness of his leather armor.

A sharp swoosh and a ripping sound followed.

The spearhead grazed his side.

There was no sharp pain, indicating that the armor had held.

Encrid trapped the spear shaft against his side.

“Hmph!”

Roger, seeing Encrid holding the spear under his arm, applied force.

He intended to yank the spear away to tear through Encrid’s arm and side.

Holding the spearhead with your side? I’ll shred you apart.

At the moment Roger applied force, a strange sound rang out, and a chill ran down his spine, causing him to tilt his head back. No, tilting his head wasn’t enough, he bent backward at the waist.

It was a display of incredible reflexes and agility.

‘Damn it.’

A throwing knife whizzed past, grazing the hair on his head and the front of his helmet.

The blade cut through the darkness in a long arc.

Of course, he didn’t actually see it, he sensed it.

The chilling sensation quickly turned to anger.

As Roger, fueled by his fiery rage, started to stand up, he felt a sudden lightness in the spear he held.

“It’s time to meet your hairs.”

The voice came just as a shadow blocked the view above his head.

It was Encrid. He had already lunged and was descending from above.

‘This bastard.’

Why is he so fast?

Such agility did not match his size.

The last image Roger saw was the descending blade.

Thump!

The blow split Roger’s skull, cracking the helmet that had shielded his head.

Blood and brain matter mixed and flowed from the split.

Thud.

Landing on the ground, Encrid checked his body.

He had grabbed the spear, thrown a whistle dagger at Roger’s forehead, and then jumped forward for a vertical slash—all as he had planned.

‘Not bad.’

There were no major injuries. His side was a bit sore from holding the spear earlier, but nothing serious.

He felt around his ribs with his fingers.

‘Nothing’s broken.’

That’s good. He might have some bruises.

“Damn it! Captain!”

An enemy soldier’s shout was heard.

Some enemy soldiers had witnessed Roger’s death, but there was little they could do about it. Even if their eyes were bloodshot with anger, they couldn’t abandon the lycanthropes they were fighting.

The lycanthropes still bared their fangs menacingly at them.

In any case, the outcome of the battle had become uncertain after this one strike.

Roger’s death seemed to have slightly dampened the spear unit’s morale.

Although they were still in a superior position, some soldiers were being killed by lycanthropes.

It happened just now as well.

A soldier, enraged by the sight of their leader’s death, was struck in the head by a one-eyed lycanthrope that had been hiding.

Thud!

The one-eyed lycanthrope used its fist, not its claws.

Instead of relying on instinct to use its claws and teeth, it fought with its fists.

Yes, that level of skill was necessary to be the leader of a colony.

Leaders of monster colonies are not just appointed to anyone.

Not that it only used its fists. It also skillfully used the weapons attached to its body.

The one-eyed lycanthrope struck down a few more soldiers, slashing spears and breaking a couple of shafts with its claws.

After killing two more, it retreated behind its colony.

It hid behind trees, behind enemy soldiers, and behind other lycanthropes.

It aimed for ambushes, hiding and striking from the shadows.

It had been using similar tactics from the start.

Constantly hiding in the darkness, ambushing and exploiting gaps.

Encrid gave up on finding the hidden creature among his troops and quietly caught his breath.

During this time, a spearman charged at him.

“Revenge!”

Foolish words.

Their leader had died in a one-on-one fight, so how did this one think they could succeed alone?

If they had fought one-on-one from the start, they might have had a chance.

That’s why the chaos was created in the first place.

Encrid deflected the oncoming spear shaft with his sword and pushed his blade along the shaft.

With a slicing sound, the blade stripped away the spear’s outer layer and reached the soldier’s neck.

Slash.

The well-sharpened blade cut through the enemy’s neck.

Blood spurted like a fountain from the half-severed neck.

Encrid followed through with the motion, using the centrifugal force to spin his body and set his sword in a ready position.

‘I was wondering when you’d come.’

Behind Encrid, near Roger’s corpse, was a crouched lycanthrope.

It was the leader of the lycanthrope pack, sneaking up behind him.

The one-eyed lycanthrope.

Its yellow eyes gleamed as it faced Encrid.

“Do you want to come first? Or shall I?”

The lycanthrope leader was indeed a more challenging opponent than Roger.

However, Encrid had never had an easy day in all of his seventy-eight repetitions of today.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t tried every time, even when he relaxed his shoulders.

So he thought, “Let’s finish this quickly.”

He didn’t find the idea of killing this creature particularly difficult.

As the lycanthrope’s claws sliced through the air, creating openings, the clash of claws and blade echoed.

After several exchanges of offense and defense, Encrid’s sword severed the one-eyed lycanthrope’s arm.

‘The advantage of weapons.’

He had never felt it as strongly as he did now.

The sword, forged with an investment of Krona, shone brightly.

It shattered the lycanthrope’s claws every time it swung.

In one of these openings, he cut the arm and seized the upper hand.

The one-eyed lycanthrope swung its remaining claws from below, trying to split Encrid in two, but Encrid sidestepped and spun his body.

He channeled the force from his foot, knee, and waist into the swing, delivering a powerful slash with his heavy sword technique.

The blade, arcing through the moonlight, also sliced through the lycanthrope’s neck.

With a swish, the sword cut through without resistance, precisely striking the target and beheading the creature.

The sound of the blade slicing through the air, the lycanthrope’s head flying off—all happened in an instant.

There was no moment of silence.

There weren’t many witnesses to this battle.

If the spearmen had formed a formation and attacked, Encrid might have died.

It would have been the same if the lycanthrope pack had attacked in a formation.

But in a one-on-one duel in the midst of chaos, he wouldn’t lose.

That was why he created this situation.

Moreover, he had fought the one-eyed lycanthrope’s leader several times, becoming familiar with its habits and fighting style.

Of course, knowing its habits only mattered if he had the skill to back it up.

As he spun half a turn, his sword outstretched, the moonlight seemed to whirl around Encrid, creating an illusion of a vortex.

It was just an illusion, of course.

Encrid subtly retreated.

It was time to catch his breath.

After all, ‘today’ wasn’t over yet.

There was still a wall to climb.

* * *

Hey, isn’t that a bit strange?

Was it always like this?

He thought it was a crisis and started to rush, but he couldn’t cross the battlefield directly, so he had to go around the side.

Torres had seen Encrid wield his sword to cut down Roger and decapitate the one-eyed lycanthrope.

And he thought, “Has he changed?”

Coming this far, I’ve sparred with him dozens of times.

The Encrid back then was different from the Encrid now.

‘What’s changed?’

Has his skill improved dramatically? That doesn’t seem to be it.

‘His swordsmanship seems a bit colder?’

He also seems more composed.

“Was he always this, um, skilled?” Finn asked from the side.

It’s a rare talent. Anyone watching would probably think the same.

“He’s incredibly skilled.”

Admiring Encrid’s prowess, Finn’s eyes sharpened, and suddenly he stretched his left leg, planting it firmly on the ground, and kicked a small stone with his opposite foot.

The stone, hitting his instep, flew upward. Finn caught it and, while running, flung it sideways.

The stone struck an enemy soldier in the back of the head with a sharp sound.

At the moment the soldier lowered his head in response to the hit, a lycanthrope clawed at his back.

Thud!

The armor was sturdy, so it didn’t penetrate completely in one hit.

However, the soldier who had been hit had to roll aside to avoid further attacks, disrupting their formation.

Two more lycanthropes exploited the gap and dove into the broken formation.

Once the formation broke, the lycanthropes had a significant advantage.

Torres glanced in that direction but quickly looked away.

Finn, throwing stones in the midst of battle, was strange enough, but Encrid seemed even more bizarre. There was something awkward about him, a strange feeling poking at Torres’s heart.

It was hard to describe in words, but it just felt odd.

Extremely, very, extremely odd.

‘Why?’

If you think about it, everything is odd, but if I had to pick a few things:

‘Firstly, his skill.’

Torres didn’t want to face the lycanthropes intoxicated by the moonlight right now.

Not alone. While he might win, there’s also a chance of dying.

If he tried to stab a lycanthrope in the neck with a dagger and got caught by its claws?

‘Ugh.’

The thought gave him goosebumps. It was an unnecessary worry.

So, what about Encrid?

‘Is his heart made of stone?’

His boldness seemed to go beyond just courage.

He showed incredible agility dodging between the enemy soldiers and lycanthropes, who were already agitated.

And he killed the enemy commander with a single blow.

‘He also swiftly dealt with the one-eyed lycanthrope.’

After striking the lycanthrope’s claws a few times with his sword, he beheaded it.

His skill was so precise and fluid it almost made Torres’s stomach turn.

As he spun, his sword seemed to whip around like a lash.

Who is this guy?

‘Ah.’

Torres finally recognized the difference between the Encrid he had sparred with and the Encrid he saw now.

‘The skill level is completely different.’

He had noticed some awkwardness and clumsiness before.

That’s why he had advised Encrid to fill in the gaps by fighting more, thinking it would help.

Now, Encrid seemed to have reached a level of mastery.

At least, his spinning slash looked that way.

‘In just a few days?’

Was he a genius?

No, Torres knew better from spending time with him.

Encrid’s natural talent for using his body was just average.

To be honest, it was almost embarrassing to compare him to others, as he was rather clumsy.

‘Wow. This is something else.’

Now, every swing of his sword could kill a person or creature.

Even after killing the commander and the one-eyed lycanthrope, lycanthropes and enemy soldiers occasionally targeted Encrid.

But with a few steps and a steady downward slash, he cracked skulls.

His deliberate horizontal slashes didn’t just cut through armor, they delivered crushing blows that shattered ribs and internal organs.

Even if the blade didn’t penetrate directly, the impact was still devastating.

It was a clear demonstration of what a heavy sword technique could do.

‘Aren’t they scared of him?’

If Encrid were the enemy, Torres would be terrified to fight him.

And it wasn’t just Torres who felt this way.

With the commander and lycanthrope leader dead, and a few more casualties among their ranks, no one dared to challenge Encrid.

Even the lycanthropes, intoxicated by the full moon and lost in a frenzy, began to ignore Encrid entirely.

They saw him and passed by, avoiding him.

‘I’d do the same.’

With that, only the battle between the enemy soldiers and the lycanthropes remained, and that too was nearing its end.

Encrid stood alone, bathed in moonlight, quietly observing the rest of the fight.

It didn’t seem awkward at all. In fact, his composed demeanor under the moonlight felt strangely fitting as he caught his breath and watched the battle unfold.

At that moment, Torres felt a chill run down his spine.

It was surprising enough to see lycanthropes and enemy soldiers avoiding a single human.

But another question arose.

A sense of unease continued to bother Torres.

‘Let’s say his skills are that good.’

But what about this situation?

There are too many strange things.

Starting with the lycanthropes meeting with the Gray Hound unit.

They kept talking about something being behind the dog hole.

‘How did he know the commander’s name?’

That just doesn’t make sense, does it?

It couldn’t simply be dismissed as a coincidence.

Once doubt began to take hold, it tended to lead to more questions, and that was exactly what was happening to Torres.

As they ran around the battlefield, Torres kept repeating how strange everything was.

“What’s going on?” Finn asked, her eyes scanning the surroundings while they ran.

She was assessing the battlefield.

Regardless of who was left standing, they would have to sweep them all up.

Initially, it seemed like the humans had the upper hand.

But now, it looked like the lycanthropes might win.

The lycanthropes had been avoiding Encrid like a plague, but the humans hadn’t.

They had targeted him several more times, which had led to even more casualties.

This whole situation had been created by one person: Encrid, a Platoon leader of an independent platoon, a man with a graceful body and a handsome face.

Was he some kind of tactical genius?

Finn thought so.

“Everything just feels off.” Torres muttered beside him as they ran.

They seemed close, but there was something Torres didn’t understand, something that made him uneasy as he looked at Encrid with a puzzled expression.

“Focus, we need to deal with the remaining ones.” Finn said, as she threw an axe from her waist.

Just after locking eyes with an enemy soldier, the axe spun through the air and struck the soldier in the chest with a thud.

The hit soldier took a step back and then collapsed.

“That must hurt, bastard.” Finn muttered as she ran.

Torres, running beside her, kept murmuring about how strange everything was.

Eventually, they reached Encrid. It had taken some time to go around, but they had kept within visual range, as instructed.

“I need to ask you something.” Torres said. He needed to know what was going on, the reason behind all of this.

Setting aside the mysterious improvement in Encrid’s skills, there was something more urgent.

“How do you know the commander’s name?”

There was no plausible explanation for this.

Encrid was indifferent, as if to say, “What’s the big deal?”

“By coincidence.”

“Coincidence?”

What were the chances of knowing the enemy commander’s name by coincidence?

“Krais mentioned there was a strange guy among the enemy.”

It was a lie.

But could it be verified? No. And it sounded plausible.

“Oh.”

“They mocked him for always hiding his head.”

He wasn’t a strong figure like a city-level champion, but he was the enemy. And his odd behavior had made him somewhat notorious.

It’s possible to hear such rumors through various channels.

In Aspen, some people knew the name of the Border Defense Captain.

So, it’s possible. It could happen.

“Then you planned this situation, right?”

“Of course not. Who could have predicted the lycanthrope pack would show up here?”

His eyes seemed to say, “Why ask something so obvious?”

That annoyed Torres greatly.

“Is that really important? I suddenly have an idea.”

Finn, thinking Encrid might be a tactical genius, listened intently.

Torres found Encrid’s casual tone strange, but he also listened.

They had to hear him out.

“Let’s scale the wall. Right now, no one would expect someone to climb over it.”

The escape through the hole was clearly a trap set by the enemy.

If they managed to sneak back into the city before the enemy soldiers returned?

“Brilliant.” Finn agreed first. It seemed plausible. It made sense.

The plan had been developed through repeated trials of this day.

If it seemed unpolished, that would be strange.

“Alright.”

Torres clicked his tongue but had to agree.

After all, the plan was still in motion, and what Encrid suggested seemed like a sharp dagger that could strike the enemy without them even knowing.

“Let’s go.”

And so, before the fight between the lycanthropes and the enemy soldiers had even ended, the three of them moved.

“Shit, they’re fleeing!”

A soldier who had just thrust his spear into a lycanthrope’s head shouted.

But they couldn’t chase after them.

The remaining soldiers numbered only twelve.

They could still form a formation, but to be honest, none of them wanted to face the person who had just killed Commander Roger.

“Damn it.”

And so, all they could do was curse under their breath.

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