Eternally Regressing Knight

“Looks like it shouldn’t be a problem,” Finn responded. The situation was getting complicated, but would it really be an issue? It didn’t seem like it.

Who came along? It was Enkrid and Jaxen, wasn’t it?

With Enkrid’s reckless swordsmanship, it seemed like half of the thieves here would be cut down without a second thought.

Would the band of thieves really stand there and watch? If they did, half of them would probably run away just by watching.

Would it be dangerous?

No, it wouldn’t. Finn had a clear sense of how a band of thieves would behave. It was predictable.

Even in the worst-case scenario, if they all came at them, it was Enkrid they were dealing with. He wouldn’t go down easily.

“The scent of magic is in the air,” said the fairy, Shinar. Her senses were sharp.

Finn frowned.

A wizard? That was a troublesome variable.

Even so, she thought, It doesn’t seem like we’ll be caught off guard.

After all, Enkrid wasn’t alone. Finn had lived with the Madmen unit long enough to know that Jaxen wasn’t ordinary either.

That’s why she said, “That’s that, but it looks like we’re not drawing much attention here.”

She intended for them to handle their own business while leaving the others to do as they wished.

Her eyes scanned the village center. The place where Enkrid had stirred up a commotion earlier. She could see torches lighting up the dark night, casting light onto the central square of the village.

The thieves were gathering there, at least the ones who hadn’t fled yet.

“Exactly.”

“Shouldn’t we first find out what’s going on?”

Finn thought it over. No matter how dangerous things got, it was Enkrid. He would find a way out if necessary.

Shinar nodded in agreement.

There was one problem, but Shinar knew clearly what had to be done first.

In the village center, the thieves had dug something up. The most urgent task was to find out what was going on inside.

That was the reason they’d come after these traces.

***

It had only been a month since he joined the village. His name was Bond.

He had been a mercenary for a while, but then his greed got the better of him, and he stabbed a comrade in the back.

It wasn’t an unusual thing to happen.

He wanted to pocket the reward for himself.

The mistake he made was that the guy he stabbed didn’t die right away.

The guy had something like a brother, and he was a guard for some noble.

Soon enough, Bond had to run for his life as the guards chased after him.

“Damn, what rotten luck.”

His mother was a prostitute.

“Better off dead!”

After being driven out by his mother, he ran through back alleys and spiraled into a cursed life. He became known for stabbing his comrades in the back, switching to mercenary work. But his bad habits followed him here too.

He stabbed another comrade in the back, and now the situation had him cornered. How many places could he go?

By some stroke of luck, he ended up joining the Black Blades, and now he was slowly adapting.

And the two most important things he’d learned in the past month were:

One, that if you went against the village’s ruler, you’d be dead before you knew it.

Two, don’t mess with the guards or that woman who uses claws. One wrong word, and your tongue would be cut off.

He had seen someone lose his tongue after one wrong word, so he made sure to avoid the woman as much as possible.

Still, he knew her face. He had to if he was to avoid her.

In Bond’s eyes, those two were the very symbols of power in the village.

And now those two had truly become symbols, treated like statues that could no longer move.

Although, they weren’t exactly in a pretty state.

“Grurk.”

In truth, what Bond saw was more like shadows moving and flying about.

There were those like him, holding rusted short swords, hammers, slingshots, or crude weapons like blackjack clubs filled with sand, but they didn’t even get a chance to react.

“Ugh, ugh.”

The eyes of the thieves were fixed on the two figures who were laying waste to them.

The guard who had been muttering under his breath was using a short spear. Bond had heard that he used to be a mercenary, and it was said he was skilled.

But the moment their blades met, the mercenary’s head was cleanly severed.

It was real.

He couldn’t understand what had happened.

As soon as the blades clashed, the sword-wielder’s blade sliced through his opponent’s neck.

How was that possible?

There should have been some kind of clang when their swords met, but there wasn’t. It was a swift, smooth strike.

It was Enkrid’s swordplay—the type that tore through the enemy with ease. His blade didn’t just push but cut precisely.

Then, the woman wielding claws was struck, an upwards slash, and the second symbol was cut in two.

That was it.

What had just happened?

Bond had heard of swordsmanship like that, where the skill was so exceptional it looked like magic, but now he was seeing it firsthand.

The skill gap was so vast it made the swords seem like they were casting spells.

Bond froze.

Could he fight? No, if he did, he’d be dead in seconds.

His instincts screamed at him to run. Run away, right now.

“Eh?”

“Move.”

And through the ranks of thieves, the true ruler of the village appeared.

Bond instinctively began to step back but halted.

It was the moment the woman with the spiral-shaped hair caught his eye. Her name was Kaisella. Her curly brown hair, gently slanted eyes, thick lips, and her full chest and hips were all noticeable features.

Kaisella, who placed a hand on her slender waist accentuated by her chest and hips, furrowed her brow.

It was after she had seen two corpses.

As soon as she laid eyes on them, a monstrous being who had split the two symbols of power waved his hand.

The enemy instantly drew a knife and threw it.

Bond couldn’t follow the movements. They were too fast.

Instead, he only perceived the results, drawing conclusions based on the scene that unfolded.

The blade he threw was stopped by an invisible barrier with a soft thud.

Kaisella’s brow furrowed deeper.

Whenever this happened, villagers either disappeared, or entire groups who stumbled into the village would vanish altogether. Alternatively, someone would die.

“No hesitation,” she spoke, her voice resonating.

Beside her, a leopard’s eyes began to glow brightly, but Bond couldn’t see it.

Bond still didn’t understand what was going on, but he knew something big was about to happen.

At this point, he no longer thought of running.

It felt as though something was holding him in place, like his legs had been tied down.

Kaisella’s fingertip pointed at Enkrid.

The other party didn’t move. At least, that’s how it appeared to Bond.

With his sword held in his right hand, Enkrid simply faced Kaisella’s finger.

“I’ll strike,” Kaisella muttered simultaneously.

A thunderous sound split the air!

There was no warning, no prelude.

A massive blue lightning bolt crashed down from the sky, directly above the man’s head.

Bond was blinded by the light, unable to see anything.

Then the light pushed him back, the shockwave throwing him into the air, but he didn’t even feel the sensation of floating.

No, it was as though he didn’t even remember it.

When Bond regained his senses, all he could see was the dirt beneath him.

“Ughhhh.”

He heard a groan, though it wasn’t his own. Soon, he realized he was groaning in a similar way.

Bond twisted his body, trying to get up, struggling to rise.

His eyes caught sight of bodies, half-burnt.

Some of his comrades had become charred lumps.

What? What just happened?

The pain hadn’t fully registered yet. The shock had erased the memory of the moment it happened.

Bond slowly began to move, feeling a little better than the others.

His whole body hadn’t been burned. Once he regained awareness of his body, only his right arm ached.

He clenched his teeth involuntarily.

His gaze dropped.

From his right arm to his thigh, his skin was blackened. It looked like it had been scorched.

The searing pain made it hard for him to focus.

It was lightning. Lightning.

He remembered seeing a bolt strike near him when he was young.

A flash of white fire, a hit from some invisible force.

The memory of that lightning bolt resurfaced.

He was still in shock. Perhaps it was fortunate.

If not, the pain would’ve caused him to scream.

The mere proximity had singed his hair and made it feel as though someone shoved a ball of fire down his throat.

Bond blinked a few times. His eyes were fine.

As his senses slowly returned, the pain became clearer, swirling through his body.

Crack.

Bond couldn’t help but silently scream as cold sweat poured down, his body wracked with pain.

It felt like rats were chewing through his body.

He thought he was standing, but he was wrong. He had staggered back and collapsed to the ground.

He crawled, his back touching the wall.

The cold wall seemed to numb the pain a little. Only then could he lift his gaze.

The distance between him and the black-haired woman was at least fifteen steps.

Yet, it still felt overwhelming.

What about the one who the spell was cast upon?

He had probably died, burned to ashes while standing.

As he had suffered the same fate, Bond understood.

Those closer to him were charred and dead.

And yet, Bond saw someone still standing.

How?

There was a new figure beside the black-haired woman.

A woman with long black hair, dressed in a gray robe.

She raised one hand into the air, her lips parting.

“A lightning spell, impressive,” she said.

Her voice carried a childish tone.

It was like an adult watching a child’s antics.

She looked down on them, judging their level without mercy.

Even as Bond groaned in pain, he could sense that the caster had to have noticed this tone.

“A madman and a madwoman,” she remarked.

Kaisella spoke again, her fingers moving.

Unintelligible words began to spill from her lips.

It was the beginning of another incantation.

Despite the pain, Bond couldn’t tear his eyes away from the black-haired woman.

She was mesmerizing, a beauty who seemed to draw in all attention and perception.

Her black hair, each strand like smooth silk, her red lips, and her blue eyes were captivating.

There was an aura of mystery about her.

If Kaisella aroused desire, this woman evoked a sense of awe.

Bond absentmindedly thought about this, even as he felt foolish for becoming entranced by her beauty.

But, of course, he wasn’t the only one.

As soon as Enkrid sensed the presence of the mage, he tightened the muscles in his thighs.

The throwing blade had been blocked, so now it was time to cut straight through with his own sword.

But just as he made that decision, something fell from above with a speed impossible for a human body to match.

The moment he recognized and felt it, his body instinctively reacted to the destructive flash above him.

Time seemed to split, and he braced for impact, preparing to block with his arms to protect his head.

At the same time, a whispering voice came from beside him.

“I will stop it.”

No, more precisely, the voice had spoken before the flash of light above, but Enkrid had perceived the light first and then registered the voice.

By now, Esther, wearing a gray robe, had transformed into her human form.

With her palm open, she extended it forward.

That was all.

Two magics collided in the realm beyond Enkrid’s senses.

An invisible barrier, similar to the one that had blocked his dagger, met the destructive lightning before it could reach his head.

The crackle of thunder followed.

The lightning struck, and its force sent the nearby band of thieves flying in all directions.

Enkrid saw the translucent shield that had blocked the light.

A faint blue glow shimmered from it.

When the lightning collided with it, the shield scattered the light, causing the fragments to bounce off and scatter, never to return.

The rebellious light, now scattered, burned and pierced the bodies of those nearby.

Thanks to Esther’s spell, half of the lightning was blocked, and the rest was deflected.

“Mirror of Bannath?”

The enemy muttered under their breath, their eyes showing a hint of surprise.

Esther didn’t even flinch.

Her attitude was clear: she didn’t care what words came from her opponent.

Arrogant and aloof.

But it wasn’t off-putting. It felt as if it was how things should be.

Enkrid, despite the chaotic situation, found himself noticing the mysterious aura of Esther’s appearance. However, that didn’t cause him to waver.

If he had been the type to be swayed by a woman’s looks, he would never have been able to walk the steadfast path he had chosen.

The enemy muttered something else, and Esther also mumbled a series of words, incomprehensible to Enkrid.

Suddenly, the sound of insects buzzing echoed from somewhere, and Kaisella’s hand began to glow with a blue light, which quickly transformed into lightning.

But this time, instead of falling straight down from above, the lightning shot out in a zigzag pattern from her fingertip.

Esther raised her hand to meet it. The lightning came at her but was stopped by a transparent barrier, which sent it right back.

The flashes of light left afterimages on Enkrid’s retina.

“Disappear!”

Kaisella shouted urgently. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth for an unknown reason.

“Tsk, tsk, child. What do you think happens when you reverse a spell you’ve just cast? You can’t even handle the mana backlash,” Esther chided.

Kaisella’s face stiffened, her expression one of shock.

She was flustered. And rightly so.

If her opponent had been a mere swordsman, she wouldn’t have been afraid. She had prepared for that.

A prepared mage could take down a hundred men or stop a thousand in their tracks.

But against a mage of a higher tier, she had no chance.

This was the established truth.

Kaisella glared at the woman who had suddenly appeared—who had transformed from a leopard.

“Who are you?”

Esther did not answer.

She simply looked down at her opponent. She was entitled to act that way.

The gap between their magical worlds and the owner of that curly hair was at least three tiers of difference.

“Impossible.”

Kaisella muttered. How could such a mage appear in this rural village?

What could she possibly gain from being here?

Arrogant? Yes, that was a mage. Selfish and narrow-minded? Again, a mage.

Kaisella began murmuring words again.

Her spell was one that brought her magical world into reality.

Esther, without hesitation, moved forward, murmuring her own incantation.

Every step she took drew the gaze of everyone around them.

No one dared to shoot crossbows or even approach them.

Even with the force of the lightning, more than five of the crossbowmen remained unharmed, but none of them made a move.

Enkrid, too, had become nothing more than a spectator.

‘She’s quite skilled.’

He thought idly.

He knew Esther was a mage, but he hadn’t realized her level of power.

Now, seeing her, it seemed she was far superior to this voluptuous woman, Kaisella.

That was enough for him.

After all, Enkrid had never expected anything from Esther.

In fact, Enkrid had never expected anything from anyone around him.

He simply walked his own path, and that was enough to make others follow.

“How dare you!”

Kaisella cried out.

Enkrid couldn’t understand what was happening between the two.

He simply noticed that no magic, no spells, no mysterious forces were manifesting.

There was only a trembling in the air between them, and something seemed to be happening, but it was invisible to the eye.

Soon, Esther stood before Kaisella.

Kaisella was taller, her curvaceous body making Esther appear slender in comparison.

However, Enkrid had already seen beneath her robe.

As Esther raised her hand, the edges of her robe parted, revealing her body.

Enkrid’s keen sight and senses allowed him to piece together the full picture from the glimpses.

Esther wasn’t lacking in physique either, despite her more concealed form.

“Is that all you have to show?” Esther asked, standing before Kaisella.

Her words and gaze openly mocked her opponent’s physique and magic prowess.

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TL here! Thank you for reading!

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