A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

This was like an antenna that detected movements around oneself within a certain radius.

It became clear once the gate, based on instinct, was opened.

‘If I use it differently.’

Perhaps I could read the movements of the person behind me.

He visualized the movements of Rem, who was behind him. Picking his nose and flicking it away, rubbing his body inside the warm leather, then lifting his head. His gaze stopped at Encrid’s back.

To explain the detailed process, he heard the sounds, guessed the reason for those sounds, and then predicted the opponent’s movements, but all of these steps happened in an instant.

This was the ‘Gate of Sixth Sense.’

It was what one could do with an open gate.

‘With this.’

It didn’t seem difficult to avoid someone swinging a club from behind.

It was the realm of sixth sense, intuition, and instinct.

Only then did he understand the instinctive hunting method of beasts that Jaxon mentioned.

The Gate of Sixth Sense was meant to instantly condense all surrounding information and embed it into one’s mind.

So, if applied, one could focus and even know that Rem was picking his nose behind him.

“Mindless people call this the ‘mind’s eye’, but that’s all nonsense. It just means you’ve gotten a better sense, that’s all.”

According to Jaxon’s explanation, that was it. So, it was natural that the range of usage would expand the more it was applied.

Of course, there were things to be cautious about.

“If you rely too much on your senses, you could be fooled in reverse, so be careful.”

Jaxon said, placing his left hand on Encrid’s shoulder. And just before Jaxon’s hand touched his shoulder, Encrid had the illusion that Jaxon was aiming for his neck with that hand.

It was a subtle trick.

In a way, it was similar to the Valen Mercenary Sword Technique.

Opening the Gate of Sixth Sense didn’t change the repetitive nature of today. It didn’t. Encrid began to live the same today again.

However, he felt a premonition that the outcome of today would be different from those so far.

In truth, it was hardly even a premonition.

He now had the confidence to overcome that vicious trap.

He donned leather armor, a longsword at his left hip, and a guard sword with a thick blade at his back.

He packed the sheath with whistling knives and hid small knives in both his ankles.

Layering a gambeson over this completed the light infantry’s full armament.

He was so familiar with it that he didn’t waste time arming himself.

He hurriedly finished his breakfast and moved out for this purpose.

‘If I just grab a few more torches on the way.’

It was a path he had taken dozens of times. Even stopping by the general store on the way was so familiar that it was tiresome from the repetition.

“Are you planning to threaten the cobbler by putting a sword to his neck? Or are you going to fight for your boots and your life?”

Rem, who had heard the gist of the task, said. Rem, lying on the bed, stuck his head out and spoke.

“I won’t return until I’ve cut ten boots.”

It was a joke he made every day.

‘Somehow, even though today keeps repeating, it feels like I’m making the same jokes.’

He could see Rem’s inner thoughts. It wasn’t the monster hunt but going to the shoe shop that bothered him.

“Finish it quickly and go chop off the monster’s head.”

Rem snorted and spoke.

Encrid nodded and thought.

No one would suspect that there would be such a cave under the craftsman’s shop. It was a natural assumption.

‘I didn’t believe it until I saw it myself.’

So he was curious again.

What could be beyond it?

Grr.

Esther’s send-off, Encrid tapped Esther’s nose with his fingertip to remember today.

Roar!

Caught off guard, Esther stepped back, shook her head left and right, and soon let out a fierce cry.

Finding it quite cute, Encrid smiled and said.

“I’m off.”

Leaving the lodging, he stopped by the general store, bought three torches, tucked two into his belt, and held one like a club as he walked.

He moved quickly and arrived at the craftsman’s shop.

“Look! There’s a hole here!”

He heard the startled craftsman say.

“Yes, there’s a hole. I’ll check it out.”

The craftsman, speaking in surprise, looked Encrid up and down instead of making a fuss.

“…Are you going to war?”

Even patrol soldiers didn’t charge in so fully armed. Seeing Encrid in thick cloth armor and armed to the teeth, the craftsman couldn’t help but say such words.

“Do your best in everything, no matter how small. That’s what my sword instructor told me.”

Indeed, a passing sword instructor had said something like that.

So it wasn’t a lie.

In reality, it was just that he had thoroughly prepared for anything that might happen.

“Someone has laid a vicious trap, so you mustn’t go inside, even by mistake.”

When Encrid casually looked into the hole and warned the craftsman, his face turned pale.

Then he asked.

“You can tell just by looking inside?”

Ah, he was a bit hasty.

Encrid thought and spoke again.

“I’m an expert in this field.”

Responding nonchalantly, the craftsman reluctantly nodded and then finally reacted as Encrid had expected.

“A trap? What trap? Why is there something like this under my shop?”

Well, that was something Encrid couldn’t know, but he wouldn’t remain in the dark for long.

He was about to find out.

A trap was set, and it performed its role.

What was obvious from this was.

If he overcame the trap, there would be something.

There must be something to hide if one goes to the effort of concealing it.

“Why did they do this here?”

Encrid paused to catch his breath, then continued.

“I’m about to find out.”

Encrid’s curiosity was also piqued.

He responded and skillfully stepped down the slope.

He knew exactly where and in what shape the cave had formed, he could see it with his eyes closed.

He had walked this path dozens of times. He had roamed this narrow cave repeatedly, aiming to open the Gate of Sixth Sense.

As a result, he could almost memorize the ground’s undulations.

Then he stood before the six branching paths again.

Explosions were in the first and second passages.

Blades of wind fell vertically in the third passage.

There was no need to spend more time training his sixth sense.

He had done enough.

‘Then.’

Which of the six paths is safe?

Instead of answering the question he repeated inwardly, Encrid wanted to crack open the head of the one who made this.

‘Sly.’

Because all six were traps.

If his sixth sense was not mistaken.

Of course, during dozens of today’s repetitions, he had also checked his sixth sense.

Was the sense of danger detection correct?

It was the correct sense.

In fact, Encrid realized that even the sixth path was wrong.

Entering the sixth passage, a hazy smoke spread from above.

The moment it touched his skin, blisters would form, and inhaling it would gift a pain incomparable to being cut by a sword or stabbed by a spear—a toxic mist.

All six passages gave off a sense of foreboding. There was no path. It was blocked.

Should he stop here? Was he stuck? Was there nothing more he could do?

He instinctively knew that he had to move beyond this cave to escape today.

Stopping because the path was blocked meant being trapped in today.

The opponent wasn’t a soldier skilled in thrusting.

Nor was it an assassin who approached silently.

It wasn’t an enemy group encountered on an unfavorable battlefield.

It was just a trap.

An unmoving, stationary spell trap that lacked reason.

Encrid stood before the first passage.

‘One wrong step and I’m roasted.’

How does a spell trap activate?

Having opened the Gate of Sixth Sense, it could be observed from the realm of instinct.

No torch was needed.

Encrid stepped into the passage.

Cold sweat trickled down his forehead with each step he took. It felt like he was narrowly avoiding blades sharp enough to cut with just a touch.

The activation principle of the trap was detection.

He walked, avoiding the places that felt ominous.

By activating Focus Point and letting the boldness of the beast infuse his heart,there was no wavering in his steps.

By opening the Gate of Sixth Sense while maintaining focus,he stepped into the gaps of the spell trap.

To someone else, it would just look like he was walking in a zigzag pattern.

But Encrid felt like he was walking a tightrope. Even so, he thought it was manageable.

Sixth sense, the realm of intuition.

He broke through the trap with instinct alone.

How many people could do such a thing?

His chest swelled with a sense of accomplishment.

Of course, it was time to put such emotions aside for a moment.

“For now.”

He had passed the first one.

Then, looking beyond the darkness, he lit a torch.

Examining the path carefully, he didn’t feel the same sense of foreboding as before.

However, it was certain that there was something ahead.

It was an intuition.

Encrid walked forward cautiously and soon saw the creature that greeted him.

“Grrrrr.”

With a hunched back, bony spikes protruding where its spine should be.

Its skin was pale enough to appear blue in the torchlight.

Its mouth was several times larger than a human’s, drooling thick saliva as if it was hungry.

Its nails were long, its forearms thick, and its eyes were black.

Through its cracked skin, the texture of muscles could be seen faintly.

Thanks to its hunched back, its fists touched the ground.

It was a ghoul.

In this world, there were demonic creatures and demonic beasts.

According to theologians, these beings were created in ancient times when gods killed each other.

But that was not Encrid’s concern.

What mattered was that such creatures existed.

If they resembled beasts, they were called demonic beasts.

Everything else was referred to as demonic creatures.

Ghouls were cannibalistic monsters among them.

“Why are you popping out here?”

Could this be considered undead?

The craftsman’s words were half correct.

There was a monster below.

But instead of skeletal soldiers, it was a ghoul that emerged.

Demonic creatures had no intelligence for conversation. They only charged at their prey.

“Rrraaa!”

Ghouls eat humans. Their flat, upturned noses, which appeared as holes stuck to their faces without any bridge, were organs capable of smelling humans.

The creatures, smelling their prey, rushed forward.

The cave wasn’t too narrow.

It wasn’t spacious enough to move freely and swing a sword around either.

There was enough room to maneuver based on the environment.

Srrrng, clang.

The moment he saw the charging ghoul, Encrid drew his longsword and held it diagonally forward.

‘Three.’

There were two more behind the first one.

Typically, it would take two or three spearmen to take down a single ghoul.

An experienced soldier might manage to kill one with a sword alone.

Tactically, it’s best to avoid such attempts if possible.

Of course, if unavoidable, one might have to punch the ghoul’s face.

Just like Encrid was about to.

Thud!

He thrust the diagonally held blade forward, embedding it in the chest of the first ghoul. Gripping the sword with only his left hand, he pressed down at an outward angle.

“Grrraarrr!”

A ghastly scream erupted that no human vocal cords could ever produce. The ghoul impaled by the sword fell to its knees, dragged down by Encrid’s strength.

As a result, the blade slid about a finger’s length lower into the ghoul’s body, but it couldn’t be sliced in half.

Even this put a strain on the muscles of his left arm.

As he subdued one ghoul, another one lunged at him, slashing its claws.

Expecting this, Encrid pivoted around his left foot, dodging, and struck out with his now free right hand.

Thud!

The ghoul’s head snapped back from the punch. The force was fully transmitted, leaving the ghoul dazed. With its charge halted, the third ghoul tried to leap forward.

Its outstretched hand reached farther than the other two.

Ghouls are inherently misshapen creatures.

Some had long arms, others had thick legs.

Encrid had already noticed the movements of the last ghoul and simply turned his head to avoid the stabbing claws.

Having created an opening, what should he do next?

‘One at a time.’

He needed to kill them.

In the past, truly in the past, before he began repeating today, he would have already been dead.

But now, his accumulated experience, swordsmanship, and martial arts had reached an exceptional level.

Gripping the sword with both hands, he slashed downward.

His arm muscles tensed.

Slash.

“Grrrr!”

One ghoul split from chest to groin, spilling purple entrails below.

The fallen torch illuminated the faces of the remaining two ghouls, casting long shadows behind them.

The two monsters, having forgotten fear, charged again.

Even when there had been three, Encrid had easily killed one, and now his sword danced once more.

Stepping towards the simple moves of the ghouls, he decapitated one with a horizontal upper slash using his medium sword technique.

For the last ghoul, he tripped it, then stomped on its head with all his might.

Crack!

The head didn’t burst like a pumpkin, but.

“Grrkk, grrk.”

Black fluid trickled from the cracked head.

“Now I’m really curious.”

Encrid said as he vertically drove his sword into the remaining ghoul’s head.

Crunch.

The sword tip pierced through the ghoul’s head and into the ground. Encrid withdrew the sword, leaving the ghoul’s shattered head.

Three ghouls.

It would have required at least six low-ranking soldiers to fight them, but Encrid had easily defeated them.

The ghouls’ claws were poisonous, so even a scratch could have been fatal, but he hadn’t been touched.

This was a moment that proved all his training hadn’t been in vain.

Even though no one had seen it, which was a bit disappointing.

He would soon show the hidden one inside just how ruthless his sword could be.

“Phew.”

After taking a few deep breaths, he shook the ghoul’s fluids from his sword, pulled out a piece of cheap linen from his pocket, and wiped the blade clean. Then, Encrid proceeded further inside.

Heading into the cave was akin to moving towards tomorrow.

There was no hesitation.

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