A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

A heavy blow, as if hit by Rem’s fist.

Falling from his rear, another heavy impact was felt over Encrid’s head.

Instinctively, Encrid tucked his chin and rolled to the side.

Thud.

Then, again, an invisible something, an intangible shockwave, struck where he had been.

There was no dirty sewage there. Instead, a damp heap of dirt splattered onto his face.

Encrid’s eyes, squinting in one eye, darted around.

‘Can’t see it.’

It must be a spell.

It’s an obvious guess. He saw a head with only its face moving its lips.

Who else could do such a thing?

“You dodged. You’re just making it harder for yourself. Stay still, and it won’t hurt.”

The male wizard said, waving his hand.

Since he couldn’t see it, there was no way to block it. Encrid rolled to the side again.

A blade of wind whizzed past where he had been.

Of course, Encrid didn’t know what it was. He only knew it was some kind of spell.

‘What should I do in this situation?’

He had met many swordsmanship instructors, and they all had one thing to say when it came to wizards.

“A wizard? There’s only one way to deal with them.”

“Run. Don’t look back, just run.”

“Don’t engage. If you don’t want to live a life worse than death, suffering endlessly.”

“If you’re lucky, you’ll die. If you’re unlucky, don’t even think about it.”

Considering some of them were quite famous, it emphasized the danger of wizards and their spells.

On the other hand, the Troublemaker Squad members had a different perspective on wizards.

“Shoot them with an arrow.”

That was Rem.

“Kill them when they’re not looking.”

That was Jaxon.

“If you really have to fight, just get close, brother.”

A typical answer from Audin.

As for Ragna,”If you just cut them, they die the same.”,was his response.

In any case, the conclusion here was: It’s better to avoid wizards.

But if you absolutely have to kill one, refer to Ragna’s words.

‘If you cut them, they die the same.’

So that’s what he would do.

There was no option to run away.

If left alone, the wizard would keep doing the same thing.

People would be torn apart like old rags, left in shreds.

He thought of the shoemaker and his daughter.

If left alone, they would be the first to die.

The shoemaker and his daughter.

Even though it was one-sided, he had observed them for dozens of days.

Even without interaction, they had prepared meals and left worries for Encrid, who lingered at the crossroads.

They might not know about Encrid’s struggles.

Yes, they wouldn’t know.

But that wasn’t important.

Even if no one knew, there were things that had to be protected.

That was Encrid’s dream, the path he had chosen to walk, and the destination pointed to by his signpost.

“Come on, don’t run away, be good, it’s okay.”

The wizard said, snapping his fingers. With a snap, a light rose above the sewer.

It was a light source much brighter than a torch. Thanks to the light floating above, shadows spread out at his feet.

The wizard neither smiled nor got angry.

For him, this was just a job.

Encrid, seeing the wizard, focused even more, opening the Gate of Sixth Sense wide.

The wizard didn’t care about Encrid’s movements.

To him, the opponent was just an experiment, a bug, a piece of meat.

In his eyes, Encrid appeared that way.

When his hand moved again, an intangible shockwave flew out.

Bang!

‘Luck is on my side.’

That’s how it appeared to the wizard.

Encrid had dodged the spell by jumping to the side.

Encrid was moving, relying on a strange sense.

‘I can’t see it.’

Just because he couldn’t see it didn’t mean it wasn’t there.

Along with a small realization.

Then, couldn’t he feel it?

With concentration and the sixth sense combined, predicting the movements of a wolf beast.

This time, seeing the necrophile wizard’s hand gesture, he predicts what’s next and tries to feel anything.

That’s what Encrid did.

The wizard shaped the wind into blades and threw them.

Blades of wind flew, curving from three directions simultaneously.

Sharper than the scythe of death, if it hit, it would cut through that ragged armor with ease, a spell like that.

But Encrid rolled to the side to avoid it.

“Dodged again?”

Even while speaking, the wizard kept moving his hands. Invisible shockwaves and blades continuously targeted Encrid.

Encrid dodged them all. It wasn’t luck.

It was a sense, a realm beyond the five senses, the sixth sense.

Half-closed eyes, ears twitching, skin prickling.

Everything hinted at the wizard’s tricks.

Meanwhile, he sought a way to kill his opponent.

Logically, it would have ended with just one throw of a whistling knife.

If a cut could kill, then piercing the neck or head would kill too.

‘No, that’s not right.’

It was pure instinct. The sixth sense said the knife wouldn’t kill him.

So, what was the best option?

Whether it was natural or not, he was dodging magic purely by instinct.

The opponent was doing something strange with spells, but…

‘If I just think of it as arrows or blades…’

If he thought of the enemy wielding blunt weapons or swords…

‘Is it threatening?’

No. He could dodge it. In fact, Mitch Hurrier’s sword was sharper.

So, he dodged. He could dodge it.

If the whistling knife wouldn’t work, it was time to recall Audin’s advice.

‘Just get close.’

He dodged and then kicked off the ground in one swift move. He saw the wizard’s eyes widen.

“You!”

The wizard was shocked. The guy had dodged invisible magic and closed the distance with a raised sword in one leap.

The soldier’s blade was now within a threatening distance.

It was Encrid’s range, the swordsman’s range.

Whoosh.

As the longsword’s blade descended over his head, the wizard urgently shouted.

“Devour!”

Powerful mana and spell combined to manifest in the world. The wizard’s words became reality, exerting their force.

It was a spell only a wizard who had experienced a deep, dark world could see.

The manifested spell.

Originally, the wizard’s spell should have cut away parts of Encrid’s intestines.

This was not a spell that could be dodged by instinct.

But nothing happened.

Well, something did happen.

“Ugh.”

The wizard was bewildered. The spell that should have manifested had reflected back and hit him.

He could see the inside of Encrid’s torn cloth armor, cut by the wind blades.

Black leather armor, reeking of magical aura.

“What, what are you wearing?”

“Something good.”

Encrid replied as he noticed the wizard’s eyes falling upon his armor.

It seemed as though whatever trick the wizard had used had been blocked by the armor.

Encrid was quick-witted.

And his hands were just as quick.

Whoosh!

The blade cut through the air. The descending metal was a sword forged by blacksmiths with the magic of hammers and flames.

Slice, crack!

The head was severed and burst. He felt resistance as the sword cut through, but he pressed down with force.

The wizard, dying, felt a deep sense of injustice.

‘I had so much prepared! Varmilo! Varmilo!’

He tried to summon his child, named Varmilo.

Of course, he failed at everything.

The dead can do nothing. This was no different for a wizard.

Delusions after death could not affect reality.

“You seem regretful.”

Encrid kicked the dead wizard.

Afterward, Encrid took off his torn gambeson. He couldn’t wear it any longer. It wasn’t even fit to use as a rag.

He didn’t feel a surge of satisfaction.

He hardly felt any relief at surviving.

The threat to his life? It had existed, but he had overcome it.

He only felt that he had done what needed to be done.

He had killed the one who needed to be killed. That was it.

‘Before cleaning up.’

Wasn’t this guy the type to set up various spell traps?

He searched the inside carefully, thinking there might be hidden items.

He was quite cautious in case another trap was triggered.

He found a thick brown book, a pouch containing five Krona gold coins, a black wooden staff, a few blue and white stones, and a pair of brown gloves.

Encrid took everything.

The rest were unknown herbs and other unidentifiable items.

They all looked suspicious, and he had no desire to take them.

Encrid was about to head back, wiping and sheathing his sword when the blade snapped in the middle with a clang.

“Damn.”

He sighed involuntarily.

It wasn’t because he had used the sword too roughly.

He did feel a strange resistance when he cut the last wizard.

Could that be the cause? He couldn’t know.

Anyway, he would have to use the Krona coins the mad wizard had stashed to buy another sword.

‘Should I try to reforge it?’

It was said to be Valyrian steel, so if fixed, it might be usable again.

Encrid turned around and left.

His stomach ached and his head pounded from the multiple shockwaves he had endured, but it was bearable.

As he walked, Encrid stopped after less than ten steps and turned back.

“It’s not going out?”

He thought the wizard had cast a spell.

The light source above his head was still there.

Furrowing his brows in confusion, he looked up and saw a stone emitting light, floating in the air.

‘A magic tool floating by itself.’

It reeked of Krona.

‘What is this?’

It was just a fist-sized stone. He jumped up and grabbed it, and it continued to emit light in his hand.

It seemed like a good substitute for a torch when he left.

Encrid walked back the way he had come, his footsteps echoing.

Much later, a lake panther, looking like a black cat, descended to the ground.

‘Dodged the magic after seeing it?’

Esther was very surprised. She had never thought anyone could perform such a feat.

Of course, the opposing wizard’s skills were poor.

And then she realized anew.

‘It’s natural that I don’t know everything.’

She hadn’t lived her life traveling the world. Rather, she lived a reclusive life.

So, there could be people with such skills somewhere.

In any case.

‘I’ve struck it rich.’

Esther delves into magic and indulges in knowledge.

At one time, she had stolen and read several grimoires of other wizards out of curiosity.

Esther rummaged through the items with her claws and scoffed.

‘This level of skill.’

It was crude.

At least, to her eyes.

The real treasure wasn’t these items, it was this one.

The one called Varmilo.

A creature stitched together from monster parts, magical beasts, and human corpses.

A guardian to complement the wizard’s physical abilities.

Such creations were commonly called flesh golems by wizards.

Though they might provoke a primal sense of disgust in humans.

For a wizard, they were incredibly useful monsters.

Esther, squeezing out every last bit of her strength, raised her claws and carved a magic circle into the flesh golem’s forehead.

The black earth and the world of fire.

It was a ritual to insert the stitched monster into the world of spells she possessed.

The dead wizard had been utterly foolish.

If he had awakened the golem from the start, Encrid’s chances would have been incredibly slim.

Of course, Esther wouldn’t have stood by and let that happen.

Soon, she finished carving the magic circle. Through the ritual, the worlds became connected.

The flesh golem’s entire body began to fragment and crumble. It disintegrated into dust and disappeared.

This was the process of transferring to the otherworld connected to Esther’s inner world.

In the place where the golem had stood, nothing remained but the traces of where it had sat.

The panther, witnessing this, panted heavily.

Esther was exhausted. She had used up every last bit of her remaining mana.

She only thought about returning to her quarters and getting some rest.

Still, she couldn’t leave without a final gesture.

Esther, honoring the wizard who had created the flesh golem, gave him a memorable name.

“Bonehead.”

He was the most foolish of all those she had seen exploring spells.

* * *

“A wizard in the city sewers?”

“Yes.”

“And you killed him?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

Encrid was indifferent, and so was the Company Commander.

Afterwards, she left to verify the situation, and Encrid washed up and checked his equipment.

He had considered supporting the beast subjugation request immediately, but his sword had broken. Finding a new sword was the top priority for now.

“…What did you get up to?”

Rem asked Encrid upon seeing him at the quarters.

“I went to war with a pair of boots.”

“No way, does that shoemaker make ego boots? Do boots fight that well?”

It was half a joke, half an expression of surprise.

Ego boots were a reference to ego swords, which were said to be swords that could think for themselves. It was a legendary tale.

Not only Rem, but everyone else was looking at Encrid, seemingly wondering what had happened.

“I’ll report back soon.”

The Company Commander would be returning shortly, and it was best not to leave and get caught out.

“Where’s Esther?”

Before heading out, Encrid looked around and asked. Audin, who was in a corner, answered.

“She often steps out. She’ll likely return to your side by evening, brother.”

He was telling him not to worry.

Indeed, it was a panther that looked more cunning than intelligent. No one would be able to harm it.

Upon returning to the Company Commander’s office, the commander arrived shortly after.

“It was there. The spell traps and the dead wizard.”

“Yes.”

“A potential threat beneath the city.”

“Is that so?”

“Well done.”

Encrid, wary of the commander’s jest, saluted.

He pressed the handle of his sword with his left hand and bowed his head.

Afterwards, returning to the quarters and explaining the situation to the squad members, they were all surprised.

“Why would a wizard be there?”

“Well, I suppose cutting them down does the job.”

“In the sewers?”

“You’ve punished a wicked one, brother.”

Even Encrid had no idea why the wizard was there.

Though he wasn’t injured, he was exhausted, so after resting for two days, Encrid tried to repair his sword, only to be scolded by the blacksmith.

“This is completely ruined. It’s not good. What did you do to it? What? You cut down a wizard?”

The blacksmith looked at Encrid with a peculiar expression, not quite believing him.

Encrid decided not to mention the wizard. There was no benefit in the townspeople knowing about it.

There had been a threat, but it was gone now.

Even if no one knew, it was enough for Encrid to know he had done his duty, so he had no major complaints.

“Even if what you say is true, do I look like someone who can make a weapon to withstand spells?”

The blacksmith was somewhat recognized within the Border Guard, but not enough to be famed across the continent.

That was his level.

When Encrid shook his head, the blacksmith responded.

“From now on, it’s better not to do such things. This sword is beyond repair. A good sword? I don’t have any right now. Should I make one for you? No Valyrian steel, just regular iron.”

Valyrian steel wasn’t easy to come by.

“That’s unfortunate.”

“Wait a few days. I’ve got a contact bringing in some raw iron from the Noir Mountains. You know it’s expensive, right? You’ll need to come with a hefty sum.” the blacksmith said, showing his palm.

It was a tempting offer. Noir Mountain raw iron was several times stronger than regular raw iron. While it might not be considered a legendary sword material, it was rare enough to be among the top materials used for expensive weapons in the forge.

In some ways, it was even harder to come by than Valyrian steel.

So, there was a lot to look forward to.

He was leaving the blacksmith’s shop when he heard a familiar voice call out to him.

“Hey, hey! Soldier!”

It was a familiar voice that stopped Encrid.

It was in the middle of the market. Someone half-running caught up to him, thrusting a worn-out pouch into his hands.

It was quite a large pouch, big enough to easily fit a pair of boots.

“Here.”

“What is this?”

“Your shoes are worn out. Wear these.”

It was the shoemaker. Though the shoemaker didn’t know him, Encrid had seen him for dozens of days, the owner of the hole-in-the-floor shoe shop.

“Why?”

“When someone gives you something, just take it.”

The shoemaker, looking a bit embarrassed, turned away. Encrid couldn’t help but chuckle.

The shoemaker didn’t know what Encrid had done. He was just grateful for the job being handled.

A pair of boots.

Killing a wizard with a bizarre hobby didn’t seem like much of a reward, but…

The boots were new.

Finely crafted, with no flaws.

That was enough.

Encrid took the boots and returned to his quarters.

The next day, Encrid, though not quite familiar with it, strapped on Ragna’s spare arming sword to his waist and set out to kill a beast.

No one disputed that what he needed now was practical experience.

He was a bit eager.

He wanted to quickly integrate the experiences he had gained from exploring the wizard’s lair.

He was more motivated than ever.

“Is it just me, or do you seem really excited to go kill a beast?”

Rem, who was accompanying him, asked with a smile as they headed out.

“No, you’re right. I am excited.”

Encrid responded to Rem’s words as usual.

And he meant it.

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