A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

A half-blood fairy wrapped in rags licked its lips with its tongue and let its arms hang down. The white back of its hand was visible outside the rags.

Just by looking, you could tell. It was a ready stance.

Once those hands moved, a terrible whistle would sound.

“Reacting to the projectile itself is too late. So watch the hands.”

Jaxon was explaining the way to counter the whistling knife and how to deal with those who handle throwing weapons.

Catching an arrow with your eyes is difficult.

“It’s tough unless you’re really a knight. But there is a way to dodge an incoming arrow even if you’re not a knight.”

It’s called ‘selective throw vision.’

Even if the hands are cleverly hidden, the moving arms cannot be completely concealed.

Keep the enemy in front of you.

Watch the hands and arms.

Then see the whole body and dodge.

That was the key.

Jaxon’s tone was calm but his words were clear and stuck in your mind.

When Rem teaches something, he mainly uses his body. His body moves before his words.

Jaxon is the opposite. He gives a detailed explanation first and then uses his body. Understanding with the head comes first.

Ragna, on the other hand, is careless until he gets interested, and once he does, he explains and demonstrates simultaneously. He’s a type that goes with the flow.

Audin is similar to Rem, but his tone is always optimistic. He might be the worst in some ways.

“You can do it, brother.”

“It’s okay, brother. This won’t reach God’s embrace.”

“Does it hurt? Good, you’re improving.”

Learning gymnastics was not easy.

But it was worth it.

On the outskirts of the city, in the shadow cast by the city wall. The air here was several times colder than where the sunlight touched.

Yet, his body was warm enough.

It didn’t feel stiff. Thanks to the exercises learned from Audin.

Even while distracted, Encrid’s eyes did not leave the half-blood fairy.

The way to dodge the whistling knife is to watch the fingertips.

Hands are faster than eyes, but you can’t do anything about the swinging arms. See, feel, and perceive the trajectory.

If you can see it, you can dodge it. He had done it several times already.

Not taking his eyes off, that was what Encrid had to do now.

Encrid also let his hands hang down.

The half-blood fairy was in the same situation. Although not at the level of the whistling knife, the opponent’s throwing technique was still formidable.

‘How can I get a hit in?’

The half-blood fairy was excited.

Originally, it was a boring and tedious task. The mission was to kill an ordinary soldier. There was no reason for it to be interesting.

The half-blood fairy assassin had two peculiar quirks.

One was to exploit the enemy’s carelessness and stab them in the heart.

The other was to kill a top-tier warrior head-on.

Both were his preferences.

He initially thought he couldn’t be satisfied and focused on the former.

‘This is going to be fun.’

Now he shifted to the latter.

The half-blood fairy kept licking his lips with his tongue. It was a habit when he was focused.

He continued to look for gaps in his opponent’s defense with his eyes. They weren’t easily visible.

A clear realization struck his mind. No matter how he threw the whistling knife, the opponent would dodge it now.

But that was fine.

‘So, you’re prepared for my knife throwing, huh.’

He didn’t know how the opponent figured it out, but they had countered his preparation.

With the simplest means possible, by changing the location.

Things had gone awry. Three people were dead, and there had been a commotion, but no one was approaching.

The original assassination spot was the middle of the market, a bustling place.

The hustle and bustle momentarily slowed down perception.

There, Jack and Bo, the two disposable pawns, would have engaged in trivial chatter to cause a distraction.

And that wasn’t the end of it.

He had brought someone skilled with a crossbow and hidden him on a rooftop.

He also had a guy named Rotten follow secretly.

All these preparations were thwarted just by changing the location.

There were no buildings nearby to hide in.

Two fools were killed before they could even start.

And at the moment of confrontation, an unexpected knife throw had also killed the crossbowman.

‘Did he calculate everything?’

He licked his lips again.

As his concentration reached its peak, his lips kept drying.

The half-blood fairy speculated on the actions his target had taken to get here.

‘He calculated everything.’

He calculated it all.

He didn’t know how, but the opponent knew first.

‘The information leaked.’

It didn’t matter where it leaked from. The result was all that mattered.

He quickly dealt with Jack and Bo and then immediately took care of the soldier with the crossbow.

‘Clean.’

The calculations, methods, and even the strategy of the opponent.

After confirming everything, this was the conclusion.

‘He’s in the same business.’

He’s either doing a similar job or has a lot of experience in such matters.

It was a misconception.

But it was understandable.

The opponent had read the assassination method and countered it head-on.

No matter how much information had leaked, such a response could only come from someone experienced in this kind of work.

‘Then what methods do I have left?’

He had a few options left.

He had three types of poison in his possession.

He also had his own modified weapon at the back of his waist.

A long stiletto, about the length of his forearm. The weapon was called Needle, one of the weapons commonly used by the fairy race along with Naidil.

Draw it and stab. That would be the end.

Until now, only one creature had survived this method, more precisely, a certain Frog.

That damned Frog bastard.

“Why do you look so filthy?”

That crazy frog bastard who openly insulted his appearance.

The half-blood fairy had a complex about his appearance.

Fairies are supposed to be beautiful, but as a half-blood, he was excluded from that blessing of beauty.

Since the day he met that Frog, the half-blood fairy always ended his jobs by shattering the opponent’s heart.

Licking his lips when focused and aiming for the heart as the final blow had now become habits.

‘The poison is too precious.’

Thinking of the Frog made him want to split his opponent’s heart.

It didn’t even seem like a difficult task.

‘Close the distance, then pierce with Needle in one swift move.’

Although the opponent had skill in swordsmanship, that was only relevant in a head-on fight.

The half-blood fairy trusted his own secret methods.

Now, how to close the distance.

While considering a few methods, he felt the idiot named Rotten flinch.

‘Stupid bastard.’

The half-blood fairy spoke.

“Don’t move. You fool.”

At those words, Rotten gulped.

It was the moment he tried to sneak away. The pressure made him want to escape.

Having worked in the Thieves’ Guild for a long time, Rotten recognized the air of death.

His instincts were ringing alarm bells frantically.

“How many do you have?”

The half-blood fairy caught Rotten with his words and then raised his voice towards the front.

Encrid shrugged his shoulders.

He was probably asking about the number of daggers he had.

“I only have two.”

The half-blood fairy lied. His lips had been moistened several times already.

“I have one.”

Encrid answered honestly, knowing everything.

“I seem to have the advantage, don’t I?”

“That’s what you think.”

The daggers Encrid had thrown were a special weapon he had obtained by pestering Krais since the morning.

He had asked for something thin and light, and Krais had provided it.

As a result, a soldier had his meat-cutting knife taken away.

Encrid now had a throwing knife that had been ground down so much that the blade was as short as a finger.

The fairy muttered.

If things went wrong, the whistling knife would fly. Yet Encrid agreed with the fairy’s words.

The tension warmed his entire body.

One wrong blink, and the hand of death would grip and strangle his neck.

Even so, it was enjoyable. Measuring his skills against his opponent.

Pitting the tricks he had prepared against those of his opponent.

A desire to win filled his chest, along with a competitive spirit. It was something he hadn’t easily felt before.

When had he ever had the chance to think about winning?

He had always been too busy struggling to survive.

But now, how was it?

Today, after facing countless deadly encounters.

It wasn’t just his swordsmanship that had changed as a result.

His inherent resilience had always been there, but he hadn’t easily wished for victory.

Especially against opponents with a certain level of skill.

But now.

‘I can win.’

He wanted to win, and he could win.

It was a change in mindset.

“Pick up the corpses. Use them as shields.”

The half-blood fairy spoke to Rotten, not caring that Encrid could hear.

“If I throw it at you, he’ll die too. I won’t use that trick. Take the crossbow as well.”

The half-blood fairy chose the most rational, efficient, and certain method among the ideas that came to mind.

He would utilize the advantage of numbers. There were two of them.

Rotten hesitated. The half-blood fairy explained the situation in a calm tone. It was necessary.

“We’re in the city. Won’t the patrols be here soon?”

It was true. Encrid was in a favorable situation just by stalling for time.

Soon, the patrol would arrive.

Then it would be over.

Rotten knew that once they encountered the patrol, not only would his cover be blown, but it would also be hard to survive.

“Damn it.”

Rotten cursed the lousy situation and carefully picked up a corpse.

He was so tense that his back was drenched with sweat.

‘When did he get so skilled?’

Glaring at Encrid as he moved, Rotten’s actions were sluggish.

He groped the ground, first gently placing the crossbow aside and then lifting the corpse with a knife embedded in its head.

It was heavy. He groaned with effort. If he stumbled here, it would be over.

Rotten focused, and sweat dripped from his forehead onto the corpse.

‘Move carefully. That bastard can’t throw knives.’

Thinking so, he held the corpse as a shield.

Whoosh, thud!

Encrid’s arm moved.

The knife flew.

It was before the corpse could fully cover his body. Rotten twisted desperately. Perhaps because of that, the flying knife embedded in his shoulder.

“Ugh.”

Rotten swallowed his scream.

At the moment he was struck, the fairy’s hands also moved.

Both hands moved up and down exactly four times.

Whistle!

The sound of the whistling knives overlapped and rang loudly. Four knives flew.

Even as Encrid threw his knife, his eyes never left the half-blood fairy.

Because he didn’t blink even once.

He read the trajectory of the incoming whistling knives and immediately spread his legs front and back, lowering his body to the ground.

He bent his waist and put his hands on the ground.

Four whistling knives flew to where Encrid’s head and chest had been.

All of this happened in the moment Encrid took half a breath after throwing his knife.

And in the time it took to take the other half of that breath, the half-blood fairy’s hands moved again.

After throwing four knives, there was a very short pause. It was a timed attack.

Two more whistling knives flew toward Encrid’s head and thighs in his crouched position with hands on the ground.

Encrid reflexively rolled to the side.

Thud!

The knife embedded itself in the ground. Rolling across the floor, Encrid quickly lifted his head to find his enemy.

If he missed the moment when the knife was thrown, it would be over. Encrid’s gaze darted left and right.

He couldn’t spot the enemy.

What first caught his eye was Rotten, with a knife in his arm, and the rag that fluttered through the air.

Encrid’s eyes pierced through the space between the rags.

There was nothing. The assassin was nowhere to be seen.

Instinctively searching for a position to throw his knife, he had missed it.

During that moment, the half-blood fairy had lowered his stance and was rushing forward.

He was within Encrid’s widened field of vision.

His ears perked up, indicating the presence of someone pushing off the ground.

Encrid’s eyes finally landed on the half-blood fairy.

The distance between them had closed significantly. Only a few steps remained.

* * *

Using the rag to divert attention and close the distance. The opponent couldn’t have anticipated that he would close the distance so quickly.

It was the half-blood fairy’s strategy.

His guess was right.

Encrid’s expression was pure surprise.

Yet, he still moved.

Ping!

‘Bastard.’

The half-blood fairy cursed internally, not even thinking about his own lie.

There was a third knife in Encrid’s hand.

But it wasn’t aimed at him.

The half-blood fairy’s most efficient method.

Having more numbers is always an advantage.

Because of that, if Rotten used the crossbow to keep him in check, it would be over.

He wouldn’t have had a choice either.

The flying knife whooshed and embedded itself in Rotten’s forehead, who had been holding the crossbow instead of the corpse shield.

Of course, the half-blood fairy didn’t see this.

He just kept running with all his might.

Now within two steps.

He reached for his waist. After Encrid threw his knife, he desperately grabbed his longsword.

But before he could draw and slash, the half-blood fairy’s short stiletto-like sword pierced Encrid’s heart.

Clang! Tding!

‘Blocked?’

The half-blood fairy was shocked. Truly, terrified.

This should not have been blocked.

It was his trump card, his killing blow.

There was no way it could be blocked without prior knowledge.

But it was blocked. It was an unfair situation for him.

Encrid had already seen the stiletto-like sword, Needle, in his ninth death.

Instead of drawing his longsword, Encrid blocked and deflected the stiletto with the blade of his guard sword, which he had drawn while throwing the knife.

It wasn’t a perfect technique, but he could mimic it closely enough. As a result, the blade broke instead of piercing through.

The broken blade shattered like a burst of light from Encrid’s chest.

Encrid, who had dropped the guard sword’s grip, drew his longsword.

All of this happened in one breath. Block, discard, and draw. There was no pause. It was a continuous flow of smooth movements. The longsword he drew was brought down forcefully from above, like flowing water.

This occurred in the brief moment the broken blade fell to the ground.

Even to his surprise, the half-blood fairy blocked above his head with Needle.

It was too late to dodge, so this was the best defense he could manage.

Encrid fully utilized the basic technique of the heavy sword style.

No matter what blocked it, it was a sword that crushed and shattered as it struck.

Clang!

Needle broke like a twig, sparks flying, and the blade of the longsword fell on the half-blood fairy’s head, fulfilling its purpose.

Thud, crack!

The filthy appearance of the half-blood fairy, once openly mocked by the passing Frog, was no longer recognizable.

His face was split in half.

The blade of the longsword in Encrid’s hand split the fairy’s jaw and came down.

The dead fairy, without even a death cry, fell forward, blood pouring from his split face.

“Phew.”

Encrid exhaled the breath he had been holding.

Then, retrieving his sword, he thought.

Ten times, just ten times.

That was the number of repetitions that ended this day.

It was the shortest repeat he had experienced so far.

[T/L: Please support me here: /revengerscans ]