A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

“Just break it with force.”

“Close the distance and exert power.”

“Put weight into it.”

“Make it so the opponent can’t even think of dodging.”

These were words often said by Ragna.

Whether facing a spear or confronting a shield, the answer to various situations often came out like this.

The Correct Sword Technique was a bit different.

“Refine your form, and force the opponent into a position you desire.”

Luagarne taught from the core. The method was to add small details after teaching the core, which was very efficient.

The saying that ‘Frog can sometimes be the best swordsmanship teacher’ was something Encrid had heard countless times.

‘There’s a difference.’

There was a gap between himself and the platoon members teaching him. Not that the platoon members were bad, either.

For Encrid, their style suited him better. Even though it was painful to roll around physically, it was easier.

‘Rough, but straightforward.’

It was a moment when he realized that he had become accustomed to learning in a rough and straightforward manner.

In any case, Luagarne was a Frog who knew how to teach properly.

And Encrid knew how to learn.

He listened with all his might.

The difference now was.

‘I can keep up.’

There was a time when he couldn’t do anything even if he tried his best.

Now, that time was just a thing of the past.

The Isolation Technique is ultimately an art of controlling one’s body at will.

It is a skill imbued with the meaning of controlling even the smallest muscles as one wishes.

To this, the Sense of the Blade and the Focus Point are added.

The Heart of the Beast grants courage and composure.

He suddenly realized.

‘These four things are the core of my talent.’

Something he achieved through effort.

The nourishment given by those around him.

Because he chewed, tasted, tore, enjoyed, and dug into that nourishment.

Today exists as it does.

Because there was the repeated ‘today’, he could roughly follow Frog’s teaching now.

That doesn’t mean he became a genius.

It just means he improved from before.

Luagarne already knew of Encrid’s low talent, so she wasn’t disappointed nor surprised.

She was calm and silent. She just taught.

In the meantime, a lot of common knowledge and stories about swords flowed out.

Luagarne knew a lot.

“There is a saying that for beginners, the Quick Sword is the best to learn, and the Correct Sword is the best to use against beginners.”

Emphasizing speed is easy to learn.

And if your opponent is weaker than you, you can win ninety-eight times out of a hundred with the Correct Sword.

So, what is best when facing a stronger opponent?

“The Middle Sword and Flexible Sword are advantageous. If the opponent is a careless fool, the Quick Sword is good, and if they are cowardly and suspicious, the Correct Sword is good. But if I had to choose the most advantageous, I would pick the Phantom Sword.”

The sword that deceives and mesmerizes the opponent.

Luagarne’s words implied that all five forms of swordsmanship had their advantages, but there was no definitive answer.

In this world, not everything has a set answer.

These were words derived from one’s temperament, ideology, and personal experiences.

It was like saying that people are more important than swordsmanship.

In conclusion:

“When you meet someone stronger than you, the person who is quick-witted and fast on their feet has the best advantage.”

Squawk squawk!

Luagarne laughed as she spoke. Encrid was slowly getting used to Frog’s laughter.

Knowing that Frog expresses emotions by puffing out his cheeks is one thing, but experiencing it over a long period is another.

Afterward:

“There’s a story that the Tangum style was originally created to deal with monsters and beasts. Doesn’t that seem somewhat accurate?”

“The Correct Sword pairs well with the Flexible Sword, and the Middle Sword pairs with the Quick Sword. Only the Phantom Sword stands alone.”

“When you hold and learn a sword, other sword techniques tend to stick as well. But the best approach is to learn them all in a rounded manner. Your standout skills will naturally improve further. But it seems you’re not quite there yet, so you’ll need to train more diligently.”

She offered advice without holding back, viewing things from a subjective perspective.

“When you cut the wolf beast earlier, you should have struck horizontally, not vertically. Then you wouldn’t have that mark on your left arm now. I told you to shift your weight onto your right foot and let it slide using the Flexible Sword style. To be more precise, it should have been like this.”

She repeatedly demonstrated and offered advice after battles.

“Alright, like this, try it again. Block it this time.”

The training continued repetitively. Luagarne wielded her sword, replicating the same scenarios.

And she didn’t slow her pace.

The teaching happened during meal times, early mornings, night watches, and before bed, making use of every available moment.

Every moment, Encrid focused and learned deeply.

“Your reaction was slow. You saw it, didn’t you? You should have dodged or blocked it with your sword.”

Crack.

This was during a fight against three hyena beasts.

In groups, they were among the most dangerous creatures, but three were manageable, so he stepped in.

The fight ended with just a scratch on his side.

Yet, Luagarne pointed out the flaws.

Encrid accepted them.

As he accepted them, he thought about something, a thought that started from her words.

When the same thing is pointed out repeatedly, one naturally starts to recognize the problem.

‘The Sense of Evasion.’

Something Jaxon had taught him but hadn’t yet mastered.

‘He called it coordination, didn’t he?’

The more he learned, the more there was to do, learn, and train.

One of those things was something he hadn’t yet fully grasped.

The Sense of Evasion.

With improved dynamic vision, he could now see the enemy’s movements much more clearly.

For instance, he could anticipate the trajectory and target of a Ghoul’s arm swing with a swoosh.

“The Correct Sword shines by predicting the opponent’s movements.”

Seeing it made it predictable.

He swung his sword accordingly.

As he thought, he brought the sword down from the right side, drawing a long arc.

The blade caught on the Ghoul’s arm, splitting it.

He lifted the swung sword above his head, twisted his wrist, and brought it down in a vertical slash.

The Ghoul’s head was split vertically.

Encrid’s sword split the Ghoul’s head and cleaved its collarbone.

The sword stopped precisely at that point.

Encrid deliberately stopped it with force.

It wouldn’t have been proper to split it down to the heart in front of Frog.

Thud.

He kicked the ghoul away and pulled out his sword. The fight ended with just two slashes.

“Not bad.”

That was Luagarne’s assessment. From that point on, Encrid focused intently on the Sense of Evasion and the basics of the Correct Sword Technique.

The Sense of Evasion.

‘I can’t grasp it at all.’

He understood the concept and learned the training method. However, just because he learned something doesn’t mean it would immediately become second nature. He already knew from experience that mastery takes time.

It’s similar to when he first learned the Heart of the Beast.

Or perhaps more akin to when he first learned Focus Point.

How did he learn back then?

One was realized through experiencing near-death.

For the other, it required the approach not of a genius, but of someone less naturally gifted.

Does he need a similar environment this time?

If the longing burns hot enough, one might wish for an obstacle.

One might hope the ferryman would do something.

But Encrid didn’t rely on such thoughts.

As always, he just did his best in the given circumstances.

That was Encrid.

The monsters and beasts that frequently appeared were excellent test subjects, and Encrid inwardly welcomed them, often drawing his sword.

“Again?”

As they were crossing a hill full of thorn bushes, Finn spoke with frustration.

It was right after they saw a group of beasts ahead.

“This place isn’t even affected by some demonic energy or anything. How do these damned creatures keep showing up so often?”

It was anger. Clear, undeniable anger.

It’s natural that monsters and beasts don’t understand speech.

Therefore, there must have been a valid reason for Finn to express such anger towards them.

Under what circumstances does one express such fury towards creatures that don’t understand words?

In short, it wasn’t really the monsters she was angry at.

At first, Encrid wondered why he was like this, but he quickly realized.

The things he had been ignoring while being absorbed in training.

He had said it was good that monsters and beasts frequently appeared because they were good for sword training.

“It seemed like she was going to explode soon.”

Krais muttered beside him.

Squawk.

Frog puffed up his cheeks in agreement.

“Krung!”

Esther sneezed.

Finn is a ranger.

What do rangers do?

Pathfinders find paths.

Map makers create maps.

Rangers lead the party along safe routes.

Why did the Glacier Rangers make a name for themselves on the continent?

Why are they considered remarkable?

Because they live in deep forests, places akin to magical lands, where extreme cold and monsters roam.

They are the best rangers, capable of sensing danger and ensuring the safety of the party.

There are even those who hire Glacier Rangers to gather herbs or rare metals from within the glacier lands.

Finn is not a Glacier Ranger.

But she also had a certain pride in her work.

However, monsters and beasts kept appearing wherever they went.

It was understandable for her to feel that her abilities were being questioned.

“How many days has it been since we left?”

Encrid glanced at the angry Finn and then spoke up.

“Three days.”

Krais, who was quick on the uptake, answered.

If they walked diligently, it would take twenty days to reach the frontier village. By carriage, it would take six to seven days along the main road.

Though there were dangerous paths scattered throughout, having a ranger with them meant the journey could be relatively fast and safe.

Before they set off, Finn had nudged Encrid in the side and said:

“If we were in a carriage, we’d just ignore the slow-moving ghouls, but on foot, that’s impossible. But! Don’t you think you’re lucky to have a ranger like me with you?”

The image of Finn smiling as she spoke and the now very angry Finn overlapped in Encrid’s mind.

She had a right to be angry.

“It’s not your fault.”

At Encrid’s words, Finn sighed and replied.

“Ugh, I just don’t know what to say anymore.”

She felt frustrated. Even now.

Why had she chosen the thorn-covered hill?

Monsters and beasts typically avoid inconvenient paths. So they thought this area would be the same.

It was a path where thorny bushes blocked the way. It wasn’t easy to navigate without cutting through with a hand axe.

Yet, here were the beasts before them, their thick hides notwithstanding.

They had come this far, braving the thorns.

These were the spotted hyena beasts commonly seen around here.

One of them was even limping, for some reason.

There were also some dropping blood here and there.

“This isn’t normal.” muttered Frog. To Finn, it sounded like an empty consolation.

Encrid didn’t concern himself with that.

Instead, he focused on the beasts’ movements.

Rather than launching an attack, the beasts first showed signs of caution.

As they heightened their wariness and prepared to fight, Encrid also prepared himself for battle.

He set down his backpack and drew his sword.

“I’ll handle this. Stay back.”

Encrid stepped forward.

There were eight hyena beasts in total.

It wasn’t a small number. Even with one of them limping.

It was quite a lot.

Typically, a group of beasts was considered dangerous, but no one was worried.

In the past three days, they had seen Encrid kill many beasts and monsters.

This wasn’t a significant battle.

Once again, Encrid got scratched on the shoulder and almost had his thigh bitten, but he cleverly used his shin guard to kick one hyena’s head, quickly getting out of trouble.

Two of the eight hyenas headed toward the group.

One had its head split into three by Esther’s claws.

The other was kicked by Luagarne, sending it flying momentarily like a bird.

It was an impressive technique.

Kicking a creature into the air without bursting its stomach required a delicate balance of strength and skill.

Encrid took care of the rest of the hyenas.

They continued on their way.

“Oh, seriously!”

Finn’s frustration grew.

This time, it was a group of striped hyenas.

“They’re coming out like crazy. Seriously.”

Krais clicked his tongue.

They had encountered so many by now.

Srrng.

Encrid drew his sword again.

It had been twenty days since they left the city.

They were at a stream, about to wash up, when a group of around thirteen hyena beasts appeared.

It wasn’t a crisis.

They had endured even when surrounded by a pack of lycanthropes.

Hyena beasts couldn’t compare to lycanthropes.

Snap.

Frog also provided support.

The whip cracked sharply on the ground.

“I should loosen up my hands before they get rusty.”

Luagarne said.

She was right. This was just a warm-up.

Thud—Esther struck the ground with her front paw.

She seemed to be indicating that she was ready too.

Of course, they hadn’t forgotten. Esther was a Lake Panther, a cunning panther that understood human speech.

Their force was more than sufficient to handle the beasts.

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