Eternally Regressing Knight

This sword was originally not a magical sword.

It was called a spiritual sword, but it wasn’t really imbued with a spirit.

In fact, it could be said to be a part of the mind itself.

However, in the past, a genius mage, through his magic, realized a brilliant idea.

“Is there a way to pass on abilities to future generations?”

He pondered and devised. His genius idea soon brought it to life.

However, his magical talent was exceptional, but his understanding of humans was poor.

Completely dedicated to one goal, the spirit imprisoned in the sword existed only to teach a single lesson.

As a result, it caused blood to flow from the ears of every student.

That was not the proper way of transmitting knowledge.

After his failure, the mage created a method for passing on the techniques of swordsmen and warriors — the art of handling the body.

“The swordsmanship will be passed down through the generations.”

And so, the magical sword became a tutor.

“Was it Dolp? He really seemed to hate his descendants,” Luagarne said, tapping her cheek with her tongue, expressing her discomfort.

The magical sword tutor, though it touched on the realm of necromancy, did not suck blood or turn its wielder into a berserker.

What would happen if a human spirit were trapped inside a sword?

The mage didn’t understand humans. He truly didn’t. He put human souls, their spirits, into the sword.

And so, only a single purpose remained for the spirit inside the tutor.

It didn’t matter whether the student died or bled from the ears — the spirit would just do its job.

To learn a technique, one had to overcome death countless times.

To surpass the tutor, one had to defeat it with the same swordsmanship, and only then would the spirit trapped in the sword disappear.

The treasure mentioned here was probably…

“Swordsmanship.”

Luagarne blinked one eye.

“If all you want is swordsmanship, it’s possible. But, though your body may not die, you won’t be able to withstand the death of your mind. So, rather than trying to deal with the sword, it would be better to find another way to open the barrier.”

Luagarne spoke, and Enkrid, after briefly looking at the sword, turned his gaze back to Luagarne and asked:

“So, you’re saying we have to learn swordsmanship by overcoming death?”

“Yes, it’s nonsense. What kind of human could do that?”

Luagarne’s tongue clicked against her cheek again. Was it similar to how humans might express frustration?

“Ah, damn it, my mistake. I’m sorry.”

Krais bowed his head.

“Well, damn it. With the food we have left, we can last more than a fortnight, but can we sell the tunnels below or above?” Pin asked. Even in the face of failure, the ranger was already brainstorming another solution.

Meanwhile, Esther had curled up and fallen asleep.

Is she really sleeping in this situation?

Enkrid thought as he looked around.

“So, we just have to risk death and learn swordsmanship?”

“Yeah, that sounds like a scam,” Enkrid mumbled.

Honestly, if you consider dying from poisoning after being surrounded by your own group, isn’t this easier?

“Isn’t this easy?” Enkrid furrowed his brow. He couldn’t help but wonder if this was truly the way.

Learning only swordsmanship? That doesn’t make sense.

Enkrid, after thinking for a moment if that was really all there was to it, replied:

“I’ll do it.”

“Experiencing death multiple times is not an easy thing. Want me to show you what happens right now?”

Luagarne was upset. Human minds wear down easily. Yes, Enkrid was indeed that kind of remarkable person who doesn’t step back.

Suddenly, he seemed to have gained skills and was showing signs of previously unknown potential.

But for mortals, death is always a worst-case scenario in any form.

Enduring that? That’s something only through great discipline could one even attempt.

“Even among the priests who serve the God of Patience and Suffering, nine out of ten failed.”

That was what the tutor was like.

Now, there were only a few left across the continent.

And yet, here was one.

An antique—something a collector would pay gold for, wanting it desperately.

‘To weave a trap here?’

The barrier would not open unless one was a proper mage skilled in magic.

Though Luagarne didn’t have deep knowledge of magic, she understood a little.

In a half-hearted attempt, she whipped the barrier with her lash, but it didn’t even leave a scratch.

It was certainly a troubling situation.

“I’ll try again.”

In the midst of all this, Krais grabbed his sword again.

“They keep coming after us. It’s like they’re berserkers.”

He released the sword like the wind. Grabbing and letting go was no challenge.

That was also the essence of the tutor sword.

‘If I let go of the sword, I can return.’

Once the mind is made up, giving up is easy. But that’s when the curse entwined in the tutor sword will never be undone.

To overcome the hill of death, you have to be a special type of person who gets a thrill from dying over and over.

Of course, Enkrid wasn’t such a pervert.

‘It doesn’t seem that difficult.’

It was inevitable to have such thoughts. After all, there had been things done up until now.

For a moment, Enkrid wondered if this was another barrier, like the boatman showing up, but it didn’t seem like that was the case.

“Dammit, I honestly thought this would be something as simple as finding a fairy tale on the side of the road.”

Krais, who occasionally became a bit of a fool when hit by Krona, grumbled in frustration.

“Should we ration the food and try to survive as long as we can? Maybe the barrier will weaken with time?”

Finn brought up a more practical suggestion, worrying about their future.

“This is completely unexpected.”

Even Luagarne couldn’t hide her confusion.

Scratching her head.

Enkrid remained calm.

Without hesitation, he grabbed his sword again.

“Enki!”

Luagarne, usually composed, raised her voice, but that was all. It quickly turned back to the muddy ground.

It was the second time.

As soon as Enkrid stepped onto the muddy ground and surveyed his surroundings, he swung his sword.

Thud!

With a horizontal strike, he pushed the enemy’s sword aside.

The enemy’s sword, which seemed to retreat, suddenly curved and pierced his side.

Enkrid immediately reacted, striking down with his sword.

Clang.

The sound of blades clashing rang out lightly.

Whooooosh.

A wind blew from somewhere, the mist cleared, and through it appeared a figure with a head of iron and blue flame eyes, wearing partial plate armor.

‘Heart of the Beast.’

It didn’t work.

‘Though, it does feel a bit unfair that it doesn’t.’

But it didn’t matter.

If he recognized it as a mental world, or a sort of demon’s front yard, that would have been enough.

He had experienced this once before.

Though it had only been once, he had repeated today’s events at the cost of his life countless times, rolling through them.

Thanks to that experience, some things only needed to happen once to be understood.

For example, recognizing the situation—once was enough.

Because of that, Enkrid was able to remain calm even though the current situation was unfamiliar.

“Ah.”

His voice still worked.

He tried opening his mouth as a test, and the sound came out just fine.

“Can you speak?”

The answer came not in words, but from the sword.

Thud!

The armored figure, holding a cold sword, lunged at him, kicking up the muddy ground.

Whoosh.

A heavy strike, a downward cut from above.

Not only was it fast and powerful, but the trajectory of the strike was tricky as well.

Enkrid blocked it in the exact same way.

He blocked and pushed back. In return, the opponent, following the same pattern, tried to stab his side. Enkrid responded in kind.

Just as it seemed like they would keep repeating the same actions like some kind of play, the blade suddenly shot upward.

No, it was the pre-planned sequence of attacks.

The blade rose from below, aiming for his chin. Enkrid bent his left knee and twisted his body.

The blade scraped past his right chin and narrowly missed his forehead.

Thanks to the twist of his body, a gap was created, and Enkrid’s sword cut across the enemy’s waist.

Clang.

‘Can even this be blocked?’

As he continued to clash swords with his opponent, Enkrid became absorbed in the situation. He swung his sword again and again, trying to open the door of his sixth sense to read his opponent’s intentions, but failed.

The price came through his body.

The steel blade of his opponent’s sword pierced Enkrid’s chest.

He woke up, having been stabbed in the area that would have made Luagarne panic.

“Huff.”

A sharp pain spread from his heart to his entire body.

He was dead again.

This was his second death. However, his body was intact. His heart was racing, and the pain was real, but he hadn’t truly died.

So, this must be what makes it so hard to endure?

No, actually, this wasn’t so bad, was it?

It seemed much better than actually dying.

“Did you get stabbed there?”

Luagarne was right next to him. Enkrid nodded and stood up.

After taking a few breaths, he felt okay. He could move. It wasn’t like he had been seriously hurt.

‘If I squeeze it, I’ll feel the pain of death. The moment is brief, and what I need to do is steal the swordsmanship.’

Something about this felt very familiar.

“You’re a fool. Attempting it itself is foolish, unless you’re trying to go mad…”

Had Luagarne always been this much of a nag?

Enkrid thought back to the first repetition of the day.

The stab from back then—hadn’t it already become a part of his body, something that felt like his own technique now?

Along with the sword he had been holding just moments ago, the cursed sword tutor, inside that sword was something like a demonic entity that carried incredible swordsmanship.

“Is this the right way to do it?”

Enkrid calmly ignored the nagging and instead swung his sword. He focused on the form, showing what he had learned from the opponent.

His intention was clear: to train, or to discipline himself.

Luagarne stopped nagging and stared at him without blinking.

Inside, Luagarne thought something to herself and muttered under her breath.

“Did you hit your head? Has it already been damaged?”

He hadn’t been injured. Enkrid shook his head to her words, not adding anything more, and continued swinging his sword, muttering to himself.

It felt like a path was on the verge of revealing itself.

“Was it like this?”

To Luagarne, Enkrid seemed slow, very slow. He was sluggish and lacking in the natural talent to wield his body or handle a sword.

‘I’m doing it myself, and yet, he’s barely improved?’

Luagarne considered herself a scholar. She wasn’t the kind of scholar who just sat around reading books like some reclusive figure.

She had also studied swordsmanship. Luagarne had such a deep understanding of it that she had a significant influence on the martial arts of the major families on the Central Continent.

She hadn’t lived long for no reason.

She was a Frog recognized not for her strength but for other qualities.

Among those qualities, her talent for teaching was particularly exceptional.

Even so, Enkrid’s skills were progressing slowly, very slowly.

Of course, there were moments that were hard to understand.

In moments of absurd crises, there was a sudden, sharp change in him.

No preparation, no signs, no indications—nothing at all—and his skills increased just like that.

For Luagarne, this was the first time she encountered such a person.

He was incomprehensible, beyond understanding, and something that simply could not be grasped by any knowledge she had.

“Can you take a look at this? We’re stuck here anyway.”

He spoke nonchalantly, and Luagarne muttered what she had been thinking.

“I think you’ve hit your head.”

“Kyaa.”

The leopard, who had been lying down nearby, nodded.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Krais asked.

“What is this, is it not a demon possessing him?”

Finn asked, filled with anxiety.

Enkrid calmly swung his sword again. It wasn’t perfect; it was still clumsy.

But Luagarne could see the intent in his sword.

If the opponent were in front of him, Enkrid would push to the left and follow up with a thrust.

Enkrid moved similarly.

There were still issues with his footwork and a few other details, but…

Right now, Enkrid was in the process of manifesting the form.

Just as Luagarne was about to say something, Enkrid spoke up.

“I think I can do it again.”

With that, he quickly grabbed his sword again.

“You’re crazy. Totally crazy.”

Luagarne couldn’t help but admire him anew.