A Knight Who Eternally Regresses-Chapter 214: Wizards Look Down on Swordsmen

Wizards often look down on swordsmen.

When a wizard first steps into the realm of magic, they awaken a new sense.

A new hand, a new something beyond their five senses—a connection to something deeper.

This, they call the world of spells or their inner world.

To reach this world, there’s no need for a key, no door to open, no path to tread.

The spell world resides within them.

They refine it by gazing at the heavens, flames, or glaciers.

This is the essence of a wizard’s training.

The madness and insanity often attributed to wizards stem from the ways they sculpt their inner world.

In the 48th year of the Imperial Calendar, a wizard who constructed their inner world entirely from flames burned an entire city to the ground.

They sought to use the inferno as a stepping stone to reach a new dimension.

It was the most catastrophic arson in the empire's history, known as the Flood of Flames Incident.

Over a thousand lives were lost, but the wizard's intent wasn't mass slaughter—they had already seen enough people burn to draw inspiration from that.

So they burned the entire city.

Thus was born the most infamous pyromancer in history, known as the Demon of Fire.

Many knights and wizards died trying to bring them down, but eventually, they succeeded.

Driven by exploration and inspiration, wizards are often called mad. Even so, those with talent for magic hesitate little in their pursuit of that world.

Magic is, by nature, a relentless pursuit of knowledge and truth. Those who are consumed by the euphoria of discovery are called wizards by the world.

For all these reasons, it’s natural that wizards look down on swordsmen.

After all, wizards tread paths unseen by ordinary people.

For a wizard proficient in magic, killing even a few skilled swordsmen is no great feat.

And so, this task felt easy.

“Do the job, collect the payment, and leave,” said one of the wizards.

While there were many magical academies across the continent, few accepted contracts.

Among those, the Shadow Nest was the most renowned.

The five wizards here belonged to the Shadow Nest, their faces hidden by black soot.

They cloaked themselves in spells, weaving enchantments over the enemy tents.

A dense sleeping mist spread through the camp on the wind, and an obscuration spell shrouded the area.

Known as the Painted Shroud, the spell made the tents vanish from awareness.

No ordinary soldier could notice the distortion. Only those with a highly attuned sixth sense might find something amiss.

“Doesn’t that look weird to you?”

One such soldier appeared.

“What do you mean?”

Three patrolling soldiers, one of whom—standing on the far right—fidgeted with his lips before speaking again.

“That area over there, doesn’t it look... darker?”

The Painted Shroud cloaked its targets in near-invisibility, blending them into the night but leaving a faintly off-putting aura for the exceptionally perceptive.

“It’s nighttime. Of course it’s dark,” said another soldier, dismissively.

“No, not like that. I mean, it’s darker than it should be. It’s... strange.”

The wizards tensed, ready to kill if the soldiers investigated further. If need be, they would kill all three and conceal the bodies.

But then:

Smack!

The perceptive soldier got hit on the back of the head by his comrade.

“Shut it, idiot. I won’t be able to sleep tonight if you keep talking like that.”

“What the hell? You hit me?”

“Stop it, both of you! We’re on patrol!” said the third, breaking up the argument. The three soldiers moved on, leaving the wizards undisturbed.

The Shadow Nest team consisted of five mages.

One maintained the obscuration spell, another spread the sleeping mist, and a third cast Dreams of the Abyss, a spell to ensure the occupants of the tent fell unconscious.

It might have been overkill, but they had already seen the five insane soldiers wreak havoc on the battlefield earlier.

“If there’s even one semi-knight among them, we need to be cautious.”

Though wizards looked down on swordsmen, they respected those who had awakened Willpower, known simply as Will.

Semi-knights, who had begun to master Will, were dangerous foes.

One soldier had stood out—a golden-haired man with crimson eyes who had removed his helmet mid-battle, revealing a face both composed and fierce.

The leader of the mages had seen many semi-knights before, and their instincts warned them that this man was the most dangerous of the five.

“It’s done,” said one of the subordinates.

The leader pulled back the tent flap and stepped inside.

Even if one of the targets was awake, they couldn’t possibly be in full control of their senses after all this preparation.

The tent was dark, shrouded by the obscuration spell, and inside were two faint, glowing blue lights.

They resembled the flames of a malevolent spirit.

But they weren’t flames—they were eyes.

“...A leopard?”

A black leopard stood inside, its eyes blazing with blue fire.

The leader realized immediately that those eyes contained a mix of magic and mystery, something far beyond ordinary.

The soot cloaking the two mages peeled away, revealing their forms as they stepped into the tent.

Before them, the leopard remained still.

The silence was heavy, the air suffused with tension.

Then—

“Keet-chuu!”

The leopard sneezed.

“...A sneeze?” the leader thought, thrown off by the absurdity of the sound. “This is so out of place. It’s killing the tension.”

***

Esther reflected on her past.

If she had to summarize the most important event of her life in one word, it would be this:

“Damn, a curse.”

The curse had ruined her life, tangled it up beyond recognition. It had been awful—utterly and completely—but somehow, she had come to terms with it. Now, she could afford to relax a little.

Breaking the curse was like untangling a knotted string.

It took time to loosen the tightly wound strands, but once it started to unravel, the rest was just a matter of time.

Thanks to the curse loosening its grip, Esther could once again tap into and utilize parts of her world.

“Grrr.”

The leopard bared its fangs.

“...A familiar?”

A term for a being summoned by a mage’s spell. Sometimes it was an animal, other times something more ethereal.

It was a misconception but a reasonable one to make.

Ignoring the comment, Esther focused on the two intruders. Or rather, her magic flowed through her body, into her eyes, and beyond, allowing her to see through their tricks.

‘Five.’

Distortion spells, a breeze spell, and a lull spell.

They’d used three different spells to obscure perception, dull the senses, and lull their targets into unconsciousness before sneaking in.

They weren’t here for a friendly visit.

Enkrid seemed to be in a deep sleep, a blend of exhaustion and the influence of the spells. Or maybe he was just tired to begin with.

Esther assumed the others had also fallen asleep.

If that was the case, she was the only one who could stop them.

“Kill her.”

The male mage issued the order, and Esther immediately felt the movements of a spell world.

It had been a long time since she had seen anyone attempt a spell that was even a passable imitation of the real thing.

Above her, a blade of wind appeared, descending vertically. It was a guillotine made purely of magic, an executioner’s blade wrought from wind.

Whoosh.

Esther pushed off the ground. A simple sidestep sufficed.

The wind blade cleaved through the air and slammed into the ground with a dull thud before dissipating.

The curse was cruel. With her current body, she couldn’t cast proper spells.

If she did, there would inevitably be backlash.

The other mage began to wave his hand while muttering something under his breath.

Chants and gestures.

His murmured words were unintelligible, likely due to a personal rune language he had devised to prevent others from deciphering and countering his spells.

The hand gestures guided the flow of mana alongside the chant.

Esther discerned everything at a glance.

The level of the spell?

‘Pathetic.’

Shadows stretched from beneath the mage, rapidly reaching out to ensnare the leopard.

Esther struck the ground with her forepaw. At the same time, a change began.

It wasn’t some internal transformation.

It was a physical, external shift.

The loosening of the curse, aided significantly by the strange energy Enkrid carried, had allowed her to circumvent the curse’s restrictions in this body.

In other words, for a brief moment, she could return to her original form.

The approaching spell aimed to bind her, but—

“Be intoxicated by my scent.”

The transformed Esther extended a hand as she spoke. A hand, not a paw.

Her claws retracted, revealing pale, radiant skin. Her body shimmered as the binding shadow spell turned into a black robe that enveloped her.

Her leopard fur vanished, replaced by alabaster skin as her form grew. In moments, she assumed the shape of a human.

Thanks to the enemy’s magic, she didn’t end up naked.

Pale skin peeked through the black robe draped over her.

A heavy, chilling silence filled the tent. The two mages stared wide-eyed, their shoulders tense.

The leopard, now a woman, spoke.

“...It’s been a while.”

Esther, now human again, felt a surge of emotion. The curse had been long and unyielding. Though she still couldn’t fully break free, this fleeting return to her true form was a gift.

She had nearly spent her life trapped, but now she could step outside the prison, even if only briefly.

The air outside was fresh and clean.

Even with enemy spells swirling through it, it didn’t bother her.

Her long black hair cascaded down her shoulders, reaching her back.

Her extended hand, now tipped with sharp nails, gleamed.

“Hello?”

The raven-haired beauty greeted them, and the leader and his two mages were too stunned to reply.

A leopard turning into a human?

What was this? Terrifying.

“She’s not a familiar?”

The mage beside the leader stammered.

“...Pull yourself together!”

The leader raised his voice, clearly shaken. His subordinate’s spell had been absorbed and restructured into clothing? Was that even possible? Was this some illusionary magic?

Through the robe, a hint of pale cleavage was visible.

There was no time for such thoughts.

The leader swallowed hard.

She was a mage. That much was clear. And a high-level one at that.

“Let’s get started, then.”

Esther smiled, her joy evident. How long had it been since she could fully wield her magic and use a fragment of her world?

Her delight manifested at her fingertips.

“Drmüller’s Scythe.”

As she cast the spell, a black scythe materialized in the air. Similar to the wind blade, but a tier higher—a high-level offensive spell.

“A companion darker than the void!”

The leader hastily shouted, activating a defensive spell engraved on his body.

Esther’s eyes gleamed. This was new. A defensive spell she hadn’t encountered before.

It wasn’t a power borrowed from another dimension.

The activation speed was remarkable.

She traced the mana’s flow. The source was the skin beneath his robe.

‘Magical tattoos?’

A method of carving magical circles onto the body to manifest spells through chants.

Efficient, but impractical for high-tier magic.

Crash!

The black scythe clashed with the barrier, shattering it along with part of the scythe. Black shards rained down like glass.

Esther snapped her fingers.

Snap!

The scythe vanished.

“Haah... haah...”

The leader panted. One exchange was enough to realize he was outmatched.

“Call them all in!”

The leader shouted. He had four subordinates—five altogether. They needed to combine their strength.

Esther was a combat mage.

Before the curse, she had faced countless mages.

This chapter is updat𝙚d by freeweɓnovel.cøm.

She had fought so many spell duels that she had grown weary of them.

“Born from embers, engulfed in flames.”

Her chant continued, no pause.

Returning to human form felt exhilarating.

Her partial spell world opened, unleashing flames that erupted beneath the enemies’ feet.

“Block it!”

The mages who had entered frantically waved their hands. A barrier quickly formed.

“Wrong. Try again.”

Esther smirked, her red lips curling.

Simultaneously, perhaps thanks to her time in leopard form—

She propelled herself forward, leaving an afterimage as she closed in on one of the mages.

Burning Hand.

Her palm glowed red as she grabbed the mage’s neck.

“AAAAHHHH!”

The skin on his neck melted away, revealing bone. His scream cut off as his vocal cords and spine burned.

Crackle, hiss.

Only a grotesque sound escaped his throat.

“Next.”

Esther bared her fangs in a grin, her crimson lips gleaming.

“Damn it!”

The leader realized the gap in their abilities. Survival seemed impossible.

Even against his master, he had never felt such overwhelming pressure.

His morale broke before the fight had even started. Running wasn’t an option.

Esther took down two more with her Burning Hand.

The gap in physical ability was apparent.

The leader and the last remaining mage fell to Drmüller’s Scythe.

She didn’t need to use more powerful spells. Not that she could cast them in her current state.

But this was more than enough.

Severed heads soared into the air.

“You thought I was your pretty face, huh?”

A drowsy voice echoed in the tent. Rem, lying on her side with her fist propping up her chin, spoke lazily.