Eternally Regressing Knight-Chapter 500 - A Bit Empty

Chapter 500 - A Bit Empty

"I'll be back after handling some of the recruits."

Ropod said and turned around. He had his own tasks to attend to. Today was the day when recruits would be chosen to spar and fight against each other, a reward given after their grueling training.

"You promised, right? Anyone who defeats me will immediately be under the General's command."

Ropod said as he stepped onto the platform. A drop of water fell from the roof's edge, landing on his hair and dampening it. Behind him, Rem grumbled.

"Didn't these idiots notice we were coming and run off?"

If either Ragna or Saxen had predicted Rem's rise to knight rank through magic, he should have been wielding a crystal ball, not a sword. So naturally, they hadn't run away. Enkrid, having heard Ropod's words, turned his gaze toward him. Although it wasn't something he had authorized, it seemed that Krais's influence was at play here. While Audin was the best at managing recruits, motivating them was another matter. For that, one needed to understand how to handle people. Audin, despite being good at isolation techniques, wasn't the best at this.

"Try this."

"I can't apply any strength."

"No, you're doing it."

"My arm won't move."

"No, it will."

This was Audin's approach. Was Ropod any different? He had spent nearly his entire life in the knight's order. He had faced fierce warriors and dealt with criminals, but handling and leading people was another matter. Training wasn't just about building strength and stamina; it was about understanding who people were. To do that, one had to sometimes push them or provide proper rewards. Enkrid accepted that Krais had likely influenced this situation. While Krais wasn't seasoned in mercenary life, he understood how to handle people—especially ordinary ones—better than anyone. Audin had learned the hard way through his isolation technique.

The recruits gathered here were drawn by the name Enkrid, though some were skeptical of his abilities, unable to trust rumors. After all, rumors were one thing, but actual abilities were another. Marco was a spear master who had earned recognition from a famous spear specialist in the western trade city. He honestly didn't think much of rumors and believed that if the so-called legends in the west were truly as skilled as claimed, they would be much stronger.

So, Marco had come to prove himself. However, the hero who ended the civil war was absent. Without training, there would be no chance for a duel. So Marco followed the orders, but frustration was starting to build. Now, seeing Ropod, he could tell the man was no pushover, but he wasn't the demon slayer.

'Should I show my technique first?'

That would be a disadvantage. Most martial artists in the continent believed revealing their techniques first was a mistake. Marco thought so as well. He had no doubt he could defeat anyone with his spear. After all, he had learned spear techniques from books and had few rivals in his youth. Even among those he met later, it took at most a month to catch up with them.

However, there was something about this encounter that had him intrigued. If Audin wasn't fasted, if Ragna hadn't gotten lost, if Fel had been sociable enough to be here, Marco wouldn't have been thinking this way.

He didn't look at Ropod; his gaze was fixed on Enkrid. The rain had turned his curly hair into something resembling seaweed, and Marco brushed his face with his hand.

"Grrr..."

Behind him, a gray-haired beast bared its teeth, but Marco's focus remained on Enkrid.

Enkrid, the General, the hero who ended the civil war, the demon slayer, the protector of the Border Guard, the king's close friend, the destroyer of the Fog—his titles were endless. Seeing him in person, Marco could tell that Enkrid wasn't a mediocre fighter.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from fгeewebnovёl.co𝙢.

'Would I lose for sure?'

Probably not. Marco was confident. He had trained his whole life, and he had never been defeated in a way that left him finished. Even if Enkrid was a formidable opponent, Marco was ready.

"Can I choose my opponent directly?"

Marco spoke up. Many soldiers came to the Border Guard for the high salary, but many also came to test their abilities. Enkrid understood this. With just a look, it was clear what was about to happen. Marco wasn't backing down.

"Is it alright?"

Enkrid wouldn't reject those who wanted to face him. He had learned that much even after long travels. Ropod asked, and Enkrid nodded, setting down his backpack. He considered drawing Aker but decided on just his Gladius. The scabbard was loose from frequent use, and the blade rattled. He would need to visit a blacksmith in the city when he had time.

Marco readied his spear, which was a little longer than his own height. He gripped it firmly and took a stance that made him look like a seasoned warrior. For someone not belonging to a knightly order, it was impressive. Marco could be considered a lower-tier squire knight.

To Enkrid, the term "lower-tier squire knight" seemed almost meaningless.

'If I'm hit, I'll die, but there's a definite skill difference.'

No matter how much Marco thought about it, he didn't think he'd lose to someone like Roman, or even Aishia, who had returned to the royal palace.

"I don't think I can hold back."

Marco said, and Enkrid smiled. He could tell Marco was serious. The stance, the atmosphere—all of it was obvious.

"I'll need to show my skills."

Enkrid tossed his Gladius into the air and caught it with the reverse grip.

"...Is that your weapon?"

Marco asked, noticing Enkrid's simple weapon. Enkrid simply flicked his fingers, acknowledging the question. The rain fell heavily as Marco charged, his spear flashing with lightning speed.

Thud.

The blade struck the spear's edge as Enkrid simultaneously closed the distance. With his bare hand, he jabbed at the man's abdomen.

It was a thrust inspired by Rem's kick, which struck like a thrown spear.

Enkrid planted his foot firmly on the ground, propelling his arm forward without incorporating any rotational movement. Relying purely on raw strength, the motion was quick and lacked any telltale preparation.

Crack.

"Urgh!"

Marco's feet briefly lifted off the ground from the impact. Yet, he never let go of his spear.

Suspended diagonally for a moment, Marco flopped onto the ground with a wet thud. His eyes were drained of energy, staring blankly. While he hadn't completely lost consciousness, he looked dazed, as if his soul had momentarily wandered off.

Still holding onto the spear, huh.

That thought crossed Enkrid's mind. If this had been a test, he would have called it a pass.

Ultimately, it was a series of simple movements—blocking, evading, and striking—nothing more.

Swaaah.

The rain intensified, its drops growing heavier.

"Grkk."

Marco crawled across the floor. Enkrid had controlled his strength, but it wasn't a light hit. If it had been a proper strike, internal bleeding and broken entrails might have poured out of his mouth.

"...What's this?"

"I couldn't even see it."

A few of the trainees muttered. The difference in skill was evident.

"Anyone else want to try?"

Ropord asked. All the trainees lifted their heads. The meaning in their eyes was clear. What could they challenge after seeing that? Ropord smiled brightly in the rain and spoke.

"How about facing me?"

It had been a while since Ragna left, and Ropord had been itching for a fight. More importantly, there was something he wanted to show when Enkrid returned. Ropord raised his blade high, taking a high guard stance. Enkrid gripped the gladius hilt and responded.

"If it's a welcoming match like this, I'm all for it."

Enkrid was curious about the changed Ropord. Ropord focused. He split the moment and stretched time. His focus burned like a fire, making him forget everything around him—the falling raindrops, the situation, and time itself. What occupied his mind was the sword in his hand and his opponent. Even after learning from Luagarne, he kept sharpening his skills, continuously rolling with Ragna. This way, Ropord had gained something new. He called it the "Eagle's Eye."

By focusing all his senses on the opponent, it felt like watching them from the sky, as though his vision had expanded beyond natural limits. Enkrid remained still. Ropord watched, waiting for any movement.

Then, Enkrid moved. Suddenly, a blade crossed Ropord's vision. Without any preparation, Enkrid had thrown the gladius. Well, there had been some preparation, but it was so fast that Ropord's reaction was slightly delayed. In an instant, Ropord swung his sword downward.

Clang!

The gladius bounced off.

Zing!

The world seemed to shake. Ropord felt it, and at the same time, sparks flew in front of his eyes.

'Huh?'

Why was the world spinning?

Ropord collapsed to the ground.

"You should be mindful of your opponent before charging."

Rem's voice came from the platform, calming down from the excitement.

"Now, that was interesting, but there's still a long way to go."

He continued in a bored tone.

"Ah."

Ropord let out a brief exclamation as he slumped in the mud. He had thought he'd caught up a little. After seeing Ragna strike the trainees earlier, he had thought he might be able to match the opponent with his sword, but it was utterly impossible.

"Trying to catch up to a genius is this hard."

Ropord said. Ah, so that's how it is. All the trainees watching agreed with his words. Ropord shook his head. His head still rang. Enkrid, throwing his sword, closed the distance, then followed up with a high kick to the chin with his left foot. Everything happened at an absurd speed.

Ropord was still feeling the impact of the blow. The trainees fell silent.

As for Enkrid, he had nothing to say to the label of "genius." Neither pleased nor displeased, he simply felt indifferent. If someone viewed him that way, so be it. Ropord knew that the term "genius" or "talent" couldn't encompass everything one had built over time.

"I'm going inside first."

After landing a hit on the squire, Enkrid gathered his things and passed through the training ground. Behind him, Ropord's voice rang out loudly.

"Hey, if we work hard, we might one day be able to do that!"

Ropord had quickly turned into a man full of determination.

"Big dreams."

"Not everyone can be like that, which is why the world is unfair."

Rem and Luargarne spoke in turn.

"Did you use to laugh at others' dreams?"

Enkrid asked, looking at Rem.

"Didn't you know? I laughed when the commander said he wanted to be a knight for the first time."

It had been funny.

"If there are those who give dreams, there must also be those who remind others of reality."

Luagarne spoke like a hermit hiding in a back mountain. Typically, those hiding in such places weren't wise but scammers. Nonetheless, Luagarne's words weren't wrong. If a dream could be broken by such words, then so be it.

Enkrid walked on, and his unchanged quarters came into view. After dropping off his bag and washing up, it would be good to eat something proper, not just another field meal. He opened the door of his room.

Blue eyes, long black hair, and still some of her skin showing through her robe—a mage sitting in an antique chair caught his attention. She looked at him as he entered.

"You're back?"

She spoke as if they'd seen each other just yesterday. Next to her, there was a fairy with an even more ridiculous office desk than an antique chair. She put down the carving tool she had been using on the desk and looked up.

"You've returned, my fiancé."

The usual fairy-style joke. Esther only spoke those words, but Shinar didn't turn her head. Her eyes were clear and focused.

Shhh.

The pouring rain and the door closing softly behind him. The fire in the center of the room crackled as Shinar asked.

"Where's my gift?"

Enkrid wondered what kind of gift she was talking about, as he hadn't been on a trip. He set his bag down and almost said he didn't bring anything, but then stopped. He realized there were things he had picked up for everyone. For Jaxen, a hidden blade dagger. For Esther, some magic items he had accidentally brought. And for Audin, a broken relic.

'Can I really call this a gift?'

Probably not. Nevertheless, he gave something to the fairy who had been discussing presents.

"It's a dagger that prevents misfortune."

A sacrificial dagger that might not be useful to him, but could be to someone else. Shinar, after glancing at the dagger, tucked it into her coat.

"Something's changed. When the rain stops, let's spar."

She then chose the words that would please Enkrid most. In these ways, the fairy was quite thoughtful.

"That's not a bad suggestion."

Enkrid cleaned up, ate, and tidied up his things. Still, the feeling of being back was somewhat hollow. It was because everyone who should have been there was absent. They would return soon, but for now, it felt a bit empty.

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