Eternally Regressing Knight

Finn subtly glanced in the direction Jaxen had taken.

“Is he heading straight for the village chief’s house?”

To her, this village raised far too many suspicions. Among the people passing by, wasn’t there a woman whose movements were noticeably sharp? Even Finn could tell that woman wasn’t ordinary.

“These thieving bastards.”

Finn had seen enough through her work with Shinar to understand just how deeply the shadow of the Black Blade had infiltrated the kingdom.

Perhaps central nobles or lords with vast estates were involved. Among them, the biggest problem was, of course…

Lost in thought as she walked under the cover of darkness, her ranger instincts led her to avoid the eyes of others and move carefully. Her steps were deliberate, always conscious of whether someone was tailing her.

Finn made her way toward the mill on the hill. Just as she neared it, something struck her head.

Reacting immediately, Finn twisted to deflect the point of impact and minimized the force of the blow.

Her reaction, right before the strike landed, was half luck.

The other half, however, was skill.

Since meeting Enkrid, Finn had constantly trained in martial arts alongside Audin and Shinar.

Her focus had been defense, not out of preference but necessity.

“If you get hit, you’ll meet the gods, sister.”

Audin’s punches, if miscalculated, were enough to knock on the gates of heaven.

“You’re full of openings.”

Shinar, without warning, often jabbed her in the back of the head or neck.

For various reasons, Finn’s awareness had sharpened, her senses heightened, and her reaction speed improved.

Thud!

The sound of impact echoed, but Finn neither fainted nor fell. The strike aimed at the back of her head hit closer to her ear instead, thanks to her instinct to tuck her chin and tense her trapezius muscles.

Though her head throbbed, she was still on her feet.

Her assailant wasted no time.

A second attack came swiftly, this time targeting her legs with a well-placed sweep.

The assailant was skilled, employing tactics to disorient. The first strike aimed high; the next, low. It was a strategy designed to be difficult to counter.

But Finn wasn’t caught off guard. She bent her knees and planted her feet, using stabilization techniques.

As the attacker’s leg swept toward her shin, she twisted slightly, deflecting the blow once again.

“Damn bastard.”

Her head still rang, but she knew that if this continued, she’d lose the upper hand. In one swift motion, she drew the short sword strapped to her sword belt.

Shing!

Without hesitation, she swung it horizontally, blindly but with full force.

The blade met no resistance. The attacker retreated, and Finn could feel their movement away from her.

Though her vision blurred, she frowned and concentrated.

“Don’t move. If you move, you die.”

The voice came from her left rear. Accompanying it was the click of a crossbow being drawn.

“Damn it all,” Finn cursed internally.

She’d fallen into a well-laid trap. Her opponent was adept at ambushes and seemed to have been waiting for her. This wasn’t just a random attack—it was premeditated and dangerous.

“You think we’re blind fools? I swear, I’ll cut your limbs off and sell you to some filthy brothel for pocket change!”

The attacker, holding a short club, spat out vulgar words.

Instead of responding, Finn focused. Sweat trickled down her temples, the cold of winter entirely forgotten.

Her head still spun, though slightly less than before. Right now, her priority was to escape the situation, and for that, she needed to assess her surroundings.

“Don’t shoot.”

Finn raised her hands slowly, letting the short sword fall from her grasp. It landed with a dull thud, embedding slightly into the dirt below.

“You fools have no idea where you are.”

The club-wielding thug sneered, his lips curling into a mocking grin.

“This isn’t good,” Finn thought.

By pretending to surrender, she managed to piece together the situation.

There were three key takeaways:

First, the villagers weren’t stupid or oblivious.

Second, her team’s actions had somehow made them appear careless.

Lastly, not everything went according to plan.

The original plan was to observe the village for two days before unleashing their stationed forces to sweep through.

“Gather evidence first,” she reminded herself.

Using that evidence to gain approval from the local lord overseeing this region was the priority.

The Border Guard was technically part of a fief, and there was nothing truly resembling a border outside of it.

If anything, this area belonged to another noble.

In fact, there were numerous political elements at play in this situation.

Marcus had been planning to turn the Border Guard into a fief under his control and needed this incident to assert his influence.

While he was certainly angered by the drug makers and the Black Blade’s assassination squads, there was more to it than that.

Marcus, the politician that he was, had been plotting this course of action for some time.

His ultimate goal was to liberate the village, remove the criminals, and reestablish order by organizing the innocent inhabitants.

Instead of the village being a haven for the Black Blade’s drug-dealing thugs, he sought to make it a village protected by the Border Guard.

The noble overseeing the area would undoubtedly make a fuss, but Marcus knew there were many ways to handle that.

The best course of action would be to find proof of the connection between the local lord and the bandit groups, though he knew that might not be possible.

But he was confident he could exert his influence and gain control of a village with ease.

Once he had one, getting more would be easy.

He understood that once the first village fell, it wouldn’t be the last.

But who would know? The local lord was just a fool, a pig-headed idiot.

And on top of that, Marcus had prepared various plans and entangled the situation with plenty of intricacies.

But it all started to go awry.

Of course, Finn couldn’t know any of this.

She only focused on her mission, remaining a soldier through and through.

As she surveyed the situation, she realized that finding evidence had become like trying to gather spilled water from dry earth.

“I’m really down bad”

She had fallen into an ambush.

Sweat trickled down her face, but she steeled herself and prepared for her next move.

She wouldn’t just surrender.

Fight and fight again.

She had learned that much from watching Enkrid.

Never give up—keep moving forward, and in doing so, you change.

Finn had watched Enkrid do just that, right beside him.

With a swift motion, her foot kicked the sword lodged in the ground, sending it flying.

At the same time, she drew two hidden daggers from her forearms.

It was time to fight. Even if victory was impossible, it was a moment where she had no choice but to act.

It was after Jaxen had slipped out through the window.

Enkrid absentmindedly gazed outside.

“How did he slip through that small hole?”

The window was tiny. Jaxen had somehow managed to squeeze through with almost no effort, a feat that seemed almost magical.

He didn’t struggle or squirm. He simply judged the window’s size and his own body and made a quick leap, vanishing outside in an instant.

It looked as if he had been pulled by some invisible force, his body perfectly aligned as he glided out.

Jaxen’s kinesthetic awareness was impressive.

“I wonder if I could have done that.”

Enkrid doubted his own ability to pull off such a feat.

His curiosity didn’t extend further than that, and he continued to stare through the window at the moonlight, which scattered and shimmered like dust.

It was a clear, moonlit night.

After observing the outside for a moment, Enkrid turned his gaze back inside.

Though it was a winter night, the air was cold, there was a hearth burning nearby. The hot stones and glowing red charcoal beneath a large piece of firewood provided warmth.

Enkrid moved the hearth closer to the bed and gazed at it for a while.

He placed another log into the fire, and it immediately began to sizzle as the embers met the wood, flickering with a bright red flame.

The crackling sound of the fire was soothing as Enkrid watched, almost trance-like.

The flames danced and spat embers, creating warmth that cut through the chilly air.

The heat from the fire mingled with the cool air, creating a comfortable, warm atmosphere.

Enkrid felt as though the heat was wrapping around him, holding him gently, almost as if he were being cradled.

He didn’t remember the warmth of a mother’s embrace, but in this moment, the sensation was close enough.

Like a child seeking comfort, he curled up, feeling the peace of the moment wash over him.

A warm bath and a brief dream helped him to relax deeply.

In his dream, Enkrid was a child again, whining in his mother’s arms.

Then, he left home to embark on a long journey. Ten days into it, he was faced with a life-threatening situation.

After narrowly surviving, he regretted his decision.

“Why did I leave home?”

Leaving had only led to hardship and danger.

Every step was a risk, like crossing a cliff on a thin rope.

“Would you still cross it?”

A voice asked him.

He could have gone back home, but Enkrid didn’t.

Even though he yearned for the peaceful air, the pastoral landscape, the warmth of his mother’s embrace, and his father’s hands, he didn’t turn back.

“I’ll cross.”

“Why?”

“Do I need a reason?”

“No, but everything has a reason, whether you know it or not. Why are you walking this path?”

Enkrid thought it was a question with no answer, but his dream-self replied without hesitation.

“It’s fun.”

“Is that all?”

“Should I show a smile on my face? Or should I frown? Is it better to feel pain or joy?”

“What?”

The person who asked the question couldn’t be seen. The last sentence was spoken aloud.

“I’m walking the path I believe is right and enjoyable.”

There was no hesitation in that answer. Enkrid didn’t even call it a belief.

He opened his eyes.

It had been a very short dream. The fire from the logs had hardly gone out yet.

Before the wood had completely burned down, before it turned completely black—just a brief moment of rest.

And yet, his body felt light. His feet were swift, and strength surged into his hands.

Normally, after waking up, it takes time for the body to regain strength, but not now.

It was as if someone had breathed life into every muscle, and his body was full of power.

At that moment, someone knocked on the door.

Knock knock.

“Are you there?”

It was the voice of a tavern servant.

“Are you in there?”

The question came again. Enkrid quickly dressed. He wrapped a bandage-like undergarment around himself, then layered a thin leather armor over it.

He fastened his sword belt.

His speed in gearing up was extraordinary.

Why wouldn’t it be?

If your swordsmanship isn’t great, you end up doing a lot of menial tasks. Enkrid had seen many mercenaries who had to take care of others.

Still, for survival, it was crucial to wear armor and be prepared.

His preparation was flawless.

“You’re here, and you didn’t say anything,” the servant said with a tone full of mockery.

“Hey, you idiot.”

Then there was a clicking sound, and the door opened. The lock had no real meaning.

The room’s light from the fire and the light from outside met as the door opened.

The light didn’t clash—it merely illuminated the surroundings.

The tavern corridor was narrow. Beyond it, there was the tavern servant, the owner, and a man with a thick, bushy beard.

They all had gleaming eyes and an intimidating presence.

“Just three?”

Enkrid asked bluntly, skipping the usual preliminaries. He lowered his head, glancing sideways, and adjusted the position of his sword belt. He shifted it slightly forward, making it easier to draw.

The servant laughed at the sight of Enkrid.

“Just three? You must be crazy.”

The servant mocked him. Enkrid continued adjusting his gear, realizing again how important these small preparations were.

The angle of the gladius on his right hip didn’t feel right.

He adjusted it, pulling it and tightening it.

“You use swords, huh? Then what’s with that clumsy act?”

Suddenly, Krais’ voice echoed in his mind, telling him to stop acting.

Enkrid briefly felt frustrated at how the world didn’t recognize his acting skills.

Once he got to the fief, surely some playwright would recognize his talent.

“No need to talk long, right?”

The servant continued to mock him.

Normally, the servant would try to exploit any openings or moments of carelessness, but Enkrid looked so clumsy that he didn’t seem worth the trouble.

The fairy standing nearby was trickier, but—

‘Do they even know where they are?’

The servant was confident. He was sure he could overpower all these ‘actors’ who had come into the village.

“Kill him quickly.”

The gruff, bearded man who had been silently observing spoke up.

This wasn’t some playful salon—it was a life-or-death situation.

Enkrid tightened his sword belt once more, ensuring it rested at the front of his pelvis, making sure it was now in the perfect position for quick use.

Finally, he stood tall and straightened his back.

While he did this, the tavern servant smirked and shook his hands. The once naive eyes he had were now gleaming with malice.

Everything about him caught Enkrid’s attention. In the slowed moment, he noticed the expression and gaze of the servant.

It was only a few steps away.

The servant threw a dagger, and Enkrid swiftly turned his head.

He didn’t draw his sword just yet, though.

The dagger passed by his hair and embedded itself into the wall behind him.

“…Not bad, huh?”

The servant shouted aggressively, raising both hands. In each of his hands was another dagger.

Enkrid instinctively gauged the servant’s abilities from his movements and the way he threw the daggers.

That led directly to more minor adjustments in his own preparations.

He shifted his left foot forward. His leather boots slid with a soft screech. It was a subtle move no one else noticed.

And now, everything was in place. The small preparations were complete.

The servant, confident in his throwing skills, swung his daggers again, while the tavern owner unsheathed a short sword.

The metal clanged loudly as they all revealed their weapons, proving their presence in the room.

———————————————————————-
TL here! Thank you for reading!

For some extra chapters or if you want to show your support head here:

https://ko-fi.com/samowek

https://discord.gg/eXsm6WsQE6