A Knight Who Eternally Regresses-Chapter 337

"Are you playing around with ghouls now?"

"What about deployment?"

Enkrid asked for the date.

"No rush."

It would take at least two weeks, right?

Kraiss thought to himself.

The Grey Ghouls had occupied that land for a long time.

Leaving them be for another month or two wouldn’t make much of a difference.

"Understood."

"How many troops should we bring?"

Kraiss estimated at least two full companies.

That was the scale this operation required.

After a moment of consideration, Enkrid responded.

"One independent company."

"...An independent company?"

Currently, the Border Guard had only one independent company.

Mad Platoon.

Had this lunatic completely lost it?

It wasn’t a joke—he was serious.

The only reason the danger level was low was that they had the necessary preparations in place.

With Azpen’s forces no longer a threat, it had become possible.

Until now, they hadn’t been able to move troops freely because of those bastards.

Sure, the increase in available irregular combat personnel like Enkrid played a role, but the more fundamental reason was that they now had the leeway to do so.

Kraiss could only let out a dumbfounded response.

"...Huh?"

What was there to be surprised about?

Enkrid had already fought against Nol colonies and Centaur settlements.

If they didn’t need to station troops for defense or protect villages, then...

Taking down a monster colony was surprisingly simple.

That was the answer experience had taught him.

'Cut off the head, and it's over.'

A simple principle.

And an accurate one.

Even scholars who prided themselves on their intelligence agreed that the best way to deal with the Grey Ghoul territory was to eliminate its leader.

So, what was needed?

At the very least, knight-level combat strength.

Having actual knights would be even better.

That was the ideal method.

But this wasn’t an urgent matter—just an inconvenience.

The royal court’s stance was to handle it whenever they had the time.

Which meant no knights were coming.

The palace could ignore the issue.

Kraiss could not.

The situation had changed.

Rerouting trade routes meant losses.

Huge losses.

Colossal losses.

For the Border Guard, this was a problem that had to be solved.

To secure their future, they needed to develop trade routes properly.

Kraiss had already thought up various methods for that.

'Krona is slipping away.'

It was common knowledge that the longer transportation took, the more silver coins trickled out.

So, it had to be resolved.

And with this operation, Enkrid's reputation would rise even further.

Since the royal court had also issued an official request.

Which meant this mission absolutely had to succeed.

It had to be handled securely.

"Are you serious?"

"Serious."

"Why?"

"Because that’s all we need."

"Did you hit your head during training?"

"And why do you keep speaking informally?"

"Because I’m too shocked to bother."

Too shocked.

When was this lunatic ever going to act normal?

Enkrid smacked Kraiss on the head.

"Ow!"

"I could have split your skull open."

And he wasn’t lying.

Kraiss endured the pain.

Mad Platoon was going alone.

'Well... it should work?'

Enkrid was going himself.

It was the commander’s decision.

And Kraiss could roughly understand why.

If they deployed a large unit, casualties were inevitable.

Some would be injured, some would die.

That was a given.

Was that the reason?

Not entirely.

A subtle heat had already crept into Enkrid's gaze.

He was dying to fight.

Kraiss was sure of it.

Enkrid asked,

"The central court sent a request, didn’t they?"

"It was close, but yes. It arrived."

The royal court had been a convenient excuse, but now an actual request had arrived.

A letter came with it.

[Good luck.]

That was all it said.

It was from the former lord, Marcus.

"Must be busy."

Enkrid didn’t bother to send a reply.

That was the end of it.

Everyone checked their equipment, gathered supplies, and Kraiss did whatever preparations he could.

The entire deployment was wrapped up in just two days.

Had they been sending standard platoons, it would’ve taken at least ten days.

Kraiss wasn’t sure if this was the right move, but strangely, he didn’t feel uneasy about it.

Not even the entire platoon was going.

"Do I really have to go?"

As they prepared to deploy, Ragna asked with tired eyes.

He looked more and more like an aging dog.

"If you’re still exhausted no matter how much you sleep, just drop dead."

Rem bestowed her blessing.

"If you really want to die, you’re welcome to attack me anytime. Even in my sleep.

...Not that it would work."

Ragna politely refused the blessing.

"You actually need this bastard?"

Enkrid thought for a moment.

If a small elite unit was enough, that was all that mattered.

Ragna’s most important role in this fight would be...

Not getting lost.

"Stay behind."

Enkrid let Ragna off the hook.

If the Grey Ghouls were strong enough to require knights, what would happen?

'That would be interesting, too.'

Enkrid always thirsted for new challenges.

This mission was like rain on a parched land.

He didn’t worry about risks or what would come after.

That was Kraiss’s job.

Kraiss gathered intelligence, analyzed the ruined forest, and assessed its value.

He concluded that the colony’s leader wasn’t as much of a threat as expected.

'A ghoul that developed intelligence while leading a colony.'

The saying "Brains like a ghoul’s brain" didn’t apply to this one.

A ghoul that could think.

And it was hiding in the forest?

Why?

Because food was abundant?

Because its violent nature had somehow been suppressed?

'Nonsense.'

It knew that fighting recklessly would get it killed.

That was why it had taken a strategic position and hunkered down.

That, Kraiss determined, was the true nature of the Grey Ghouls.

'Well, if things go south, we’ll just retreat.'

He had already seen Enkrid navigate traps purely on instinct.

Naturally, he had faith in him.

Then, two days later—

Deployment day.

Shinar joined them.

"Aren’t you busy?"

"I am a fae."

That explained nothing.

But apparently, he meant he couldn’t just stand by and watch monsters defile the forest.

Fae loved their forests.

Plants didn’t express emotions the way people did, but their vitality was full and rich.

That vitality fed the fae.

A good forest could heal even fatal wounds.

Of course, only if the forest was still healthy and thriving.

"I swear upon my name as a fae, I will not forgive this."

His declaration was dry, but Enkrid nodded.

This didn’t seem entirely about protecting the forest’s peace.

But in any case, he was another strong blade in their elite force.

New n𝙤vel chapters are published on freeweɓnøvel.com.

"Then."

They rode in a carriage for a day, set up camp, laid down stones, and prepared their bedrolls.

The escorting squad helped maintain the campsite, kept watch, and lit the fires.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

On the way, they encountered three ghouls.

"I’ll take care of them."

The soldiers who had followed from Green Pearl led the charge against the creatures, engaging them in squad formations.

It was spring, and as expected, the number of ghouls had increased. Now, they were visible even on the main roads.

There were even rumors that trade routes had become more perilous.

"Haaap!"

A chorus of shouts echoed through the air as the soldiers engaged the ghouls.

Without suffering a single scratch, three ghouls lay sprawled on the ground.

The first two had been decapitated, while the third had its legs severed before its head was crushed with a well-aimed rock from a distance.

That last one had been faster than the other two.

Not all monsters were the same.

There were differences among individuals.

It was impressive how the squad’s tactics accounted for that.

Two of the more skilled soldiers kept the agile ghoul occupied with their spears, buying time.

The combination of spears and shields was proving effective.

Enkrid assessed the squad’s performance favorably.

‘If they just refine their fundamentals a bit more...’

Of course, his idea of fundamental training included sprinting along the edge of the River of Death.

Technically, they’d be running through the Green Pearl plains, but after a while, the River of Death would inevitably come into view.

Not exactly good news for them.

After resting for a day and taking a few days to maneuver around obstacles, they neared the Grey Ghoul’s territory.

Despite the long journey, the squad held up well.

"We’ll take our leave, then," the commanding officer saluted.

Enkrid gave a nod in response.

After sending the troops back, he scanned his surroundings.

A gloomy aura clung to the forest, and they had set up camp in a clearing before its entrance.

"We’ll go in tomorrow morning," he said.

Fighting monsters at night was a fool’s errand.

"Agreed," Rem answered.

No matter how confident one was in their abilities, there was no reason to take unnecessary risks.

Not just for the cost of a single night’s camp.

Enkrid wasn’t one to be reckless.

The next morning, as soon as ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) the sun rose, Enkrid, Rem, Audin, Dunbakel, Teresa, and Shinar stepped into the ghoul-infested land.

***

A thin layer of mist obscured their vision, and the gray-tinged trees further narrowed their line of sight.

A sour, musty odor carried through the mist, mingling with the damp, heavy air.

"Just breathing in this place feels like it’ll make you sick," Rem muttered, stepping on a brittle, gray leaf.

She wasn’t wrong.

Each breath taken brought the polluted air into their lungs.

Their heightened senses, honed through years of combat, detected something off in the air.

Staying here too long would inevitably lead to a buildup of toxins.

‘A thinking ghoul, huh?’

There had to be a reason it had chosen this place as its base.

Or, perhaps, it had transformed the environment after settling here.

Of course, they had been well aware of this beforehand.

They weren’t walking in blind.

But the toxicity was heavier than expected.

A frail person wouldn’t last two days before their lungs began failing.

That said, Enkrid and his companions—each boasting extraordinary physical endurance—could camp here for a month and feel nothing more than mild discomfort.

Their stamina and resilience far exceeded that of ordinary humans.

"Krrraaaaah!"

Barely a few breaths in, and the ghouls emerged.

From their footsteps, Enkrid could tell there were six of them.

They charged forward, kicking off the forest floor, rushing through the trees.

Since he was in the lead, Enkrid naturally stepped forward.

Click.

With his left thumb, he flicked the locking mechanism on his scabbard, loosening it.

Then, gripping the sword with his right hand, he expanded his senses.

Flat, slit-like nostrils.

Dark grayish skin.

Developed leg muscles and elongated arms.

Curved claws that, if left unchecked, would tear into flesh.

Black, pupil-less eyes traced erratic lines through the gray forest.

Enkrid took in all these details—their movements, the sounds they made—and calculated their speed within the domain of his heightened perception.

A fast blade?

A flowing blade?

Or perhaps a heavy blade?

None were necessary.

The silver weapon in his grip would suffice.

Moreover, since they were here to take down the Grey Ghoul King, there was no need to conserve energy.

Optimal movements, minimal waste.

For that, thought acceleration was key.

Quick reflexes—no, the ability to process information at a faster rate.

His Refined Sword Technique evolved further in that instant.

No, evolved wasn’t the right word.

Rem’s beast-like instincts had pinpointed what Enkrid lacked.

Through sparring, she had helped him develop that deficiency.

And Enkrid was keenly aware of his own shortcomings.

"You have to recognize your weaknesses to improve."

A mercenary he once met in the city had told him that.

Not a sword instructor, but a man who had given him plenty of practical advice.

It had helped.

Enkrid had always tested and refined his knowledge, shaping experience through his own battles.

This was no different.

Just as he had learned from knights, from sparring with Rem and the others.

He had always focused on filling in his gaps.

And now, it was time to showcase the results.

Three to the left.

Two to the right.

One leaping from above.

Crack!

Thin branches snapped under the ghouls’ charge.

Their claws gleamed in the dim light, their gray bodies blurring through his vision.

Enkrid’s body moved.

As always, it began with his feet.

Pivoting on his left foot, he drew his sword with his right hand.

The one attacking from above came first.

A dot. Another dot.

Then, smoothly connecting all those dots into a single line.

Thunk!

Slash! Rip! Snap! Thud!

The airborne ghoul was split vertically in half.

Applying force with his left hand, he pushed his right forward.

Retracting the right hand, he swung left.

The blade caught two ghouls’ heads mid-charge, slicing one from the right eye down through its skull, and the other had its entire top half sheared off.

Black blood and brain matter scattered into the air.

In the same motion, Enkrid shifted his weight onto his right foot, twisting slightly, drawing his gladius, and thrusting twice into the two remaining ghouls on his right.

With a final flick of his wrist, he struck the last ghoul’s head with the flat of his sword.

It was a sequence of complex movements.

Yet, it all happened in a single breath.

Like a rehearsed routine, each motion flowed seamlessly into the next.

‘That sparring really paid off.’

The essence of the Refined Sword Technique lay in accumulated experience.

And Enkrid had plenty of that.

Sparring, training, effort—he had stacked them all together.

And now, the results were clear.

For the fourth time, he demonstrated a new technique.

The first had been Serpent’s Blade.

The second, Lightning Thrust.

The third, Crushing Blade.

And now, the fourth.

From an outsider’s perspective, it may have seemed like the ghouls were just stupidly rushing into his sword.

But in reality, it was the opposite.

He had forced their movements.

From the timing of his steps to the angle of his body, even the position of his hands—everything had guided them into a single direction.

He called it—

The Capturing Blade.

A refined sword technique designed to restrict an opponent’s movements.

Swordsmanship should be adapted to one’s own body.

But Enkrid had taken it a step further.

He was creating entirely new techniques.

And in doing so, he was naturally walking the path of a true knight.

The ideal path of the sword.

Rem, watching him, knew she had played a role in this development.

And she also knew just how useful this growth would be.

She offered a brief congratulation.

"Are you playing around with ghouls now?"

Enkrid nodded.

"Let’s keep going."

The sword had only just begun to bloom.

No matter what Rem said, his priority was refining it further.

"Leave some for me," Dunbakel grumbled.

But in the six subsequent waves of ghouls that attacked, none of their companions had a chance to raise their weapons.