Eternally Regressing Knight-Chapter 555 - Do Not Forgive My Sins

Chapter 555 - Do Not Forgive My Sins

In a land where polytheism—the belief and worship of multiple gods was acknowledged, being labelled as heretic meant being forsaken by all gods.

Simply put, in a society where faith formed the foundation a heretic was treated as less than human. Thus, those branded as heretics had nowhere to live.

Where could someone go if they were cast out of cities, which were the backbone of life?

They would either turn to banditry or flee to places like the oasis towns of the west or the eastern frontiers.

Of course, such a journey could never be easy; it was a matter of risking one's life. A scholar who once acknowledged this harsh reality claimed that witch hunts and the persecution of heretics were the root causes of banditry.

However, he too was branded a heretic and burned at the stake, proof that even when truths were known, it was easier to turn a blind eye. Being branded a heretic essentially meant opposing the central faith of the continent and worshiping idols.

In other words, cultists were those rejected by all gods and religiously defined as enemies, the truest form of heresy.

Truthfully, any heresy beyond cultism was merely arbitrary a tool used however convenient.

Anyone who wasn't fanatical in their beliefs or naively innocent already understood this reality. Ideally, heretics should have been rare outside of cults. But since when has the world ever been perfectly just or straightforward?

The term "witch hunt" didn't come about for nothing. How many people on this continent had the courage to kill those truly deserving the title of "witch"?

Mages were already exponentially more dangerous in their own sanctuaries. Even if someone dared to try, they would likely die before succeeding.

No amount of courage would keep such a fool alive. And really, why kill witches who remained in their sanctuaries content to spend their lives in magical research?

Of course, not all witches were so benign. Some cultists still performed horrifying rituals, such as consuming the hearts of children yet the Church failed to deal with them. Because when it came to the Church, any excuse could be used to justify inaction.

Seeing the true nature of the Church's witch hunts would be enough to make one sick. Although such things happened less often now they were not entirely unheard of.

The world was inherently unjust and that injustice always struck the weak the hardest.

It was this injustice that branded Audin a heretic.

'Has my Father abandoned me?'

Audin had asked himself this countless times, even considering abandoning his faith. Yet the gods had never taken away their proof of love from him.

The blessing given by the God of War—the divine power remained firmly within Audin, even when he was cast out of the Church. Even now nothing had changed.

If he had truly been a heretic forsaken by the gods, his divine power would have disappeared first. But it had not.

The divine power remained intact.

Even the Church, for all its authority could not erase what existed. They could only seal it as taboo.

Thus, when the Church declared Audin a heretic, it was for reasons entirely separate from the teachings of the gods. The stigma of heresy often served the Church's political interests and power.

Audin was simply a symbol of that injustice. A man with extraordinary talent who refused to fulfill the duties of an inquisitor and ultimately stood against the Church.

While speaking to Enkrid, Audin lowered his gaze staring at the hands holding the reins.

He could almost see blood dripping onto the ground—a vision of the wrongs and sins committed by those hands.

The hands that imprisoned and struck down the innocent.

'Do not forgive my sins.'

He silently recited the opening line of his dawn prayer—a prayer that had remained unchanged since he abandoned his position as inquisitor.

Enkrid, who had been lost in thought the entire journey finally raised his head at Audin's words.

With his shoulders relaxed, his posture atop the horse was casual yet composed a clear sign of exceptional riding skill. The horse trotted lightly, the autumn breeze pleasantly cool though the sunlight felt somewhat harsh. Golden grass stretched across the land, trampled under the horse's hooves.

"What is this land called?"

Audin idly wondered, but before his mind wandered further Enkrid spoke.

"Do you want me to curse at you? Fine, I'll grant it."

At first glance, his response seemed indifferent almost dismissive. Here was Audin, sharing what could be considered a lifelong confession and this was Enkrid's reply.

"Curses? I'll handle that!"

Rem chimed in, as if seizing the opportunity.

"So, big guy, what kind of curses do you want?"

Audin fell silent for a moment.

He had anticipated Enkrid's reaction.

"I know. Fine. So what? What do you want me to do?"

Audin had expected such a response acknowledging the rumors but brushing them aside. Yet the words he received were different.

Curses? Why would he say such a thing?

"Didn't you say you wanted to be cursed?"

Enkrid's voice broke through his thoughts again. In that moment, Audin realized something. A lightning bolt of understanding struck him.

'Did I want to be cursed?'

Surely Enkrid had a rough idea why rumors surrounded him and why Audin stayed in Boder Guard.

Yet Audin had confessed to being a heretic. Why?

Had he wanted someone to judge his sins?

To punish him?

The gods had not punished him.

Thus, in Audin's mind he had received no retribution. With his pure and severe faith, Audin truly believed he had yet to be punished.

"Self-flagellation is not a healthy habit."

Enkrid's tone remained calm and detached.

"What's self-flagellation? Just curse him already. That's what he wants!"

Rem added enthusiastically.

"Hey, you bear—how about you choke on honey you stole from a tree and get stung in the eyeball?"

The attempt was at best, uninspired.

"That doesn't seem right."

"Yeah, even I don't think so."

Audin ignored the barbarian's nonsense, his thoughts fixated on Enkrid's words. The man was right, what he had been doing was self-flagellation.

The scripture said not to defile the body gifted by the Father. But did that only refer to the flesh? What about the mind? The soul?

Audin had always trained his body rigorously but had neglected his mind. He had whipped himself ceaselessly, repeating his past sins, tearing his soul and heart to shreds.

Why? If asked, he would have said, "Because it must be done."

To reveal his sins to the Father and plead for punishment. It had been an unspoken cry—"Punish me."

"Aah."

Audin exhaled deeply, a low rumble escaping him. Once again the Father had taught him a lesson. Self-flagellation stood opposite to the teachings of the scripture and led only to ruin.

'I will never unleash my divine power.'

At least, not for himself. Even in death, Audin would remain steadfast. It was not a matter of seeking forgiveness for he did not dare to hope for such a thing. The divine power sealed within him stirred violently, a light trying to burst free.

Audin calmed his heart, suppressing it once more.

'I will not use this power for myself.'

Above them, an eagle soared its cry cutting through the air.

"Is that supposed to be a confession? If so, I'm a Westerner."

"Then I'm a man of the continent." Enkrid replied dryly.

Audin smiled faintly. Both men knew Audin had been exiled as a heretic but also knew he wasn't truly one.

It was a clumsy but genuine gesture of care, even from those savage brothers of his.

"Kyahhh!"

The cry of an eagle was quickly followed by the roar of a beast. The resonance was distinctly different.

One was clear, even awe-inspiring while the other was unstable, an unpleasant cacophony. In the distance a few harpies flapped their wings, the figures hazy but discernible. It wasn't too far, but it wasn't particularly close either.

Near the capital or around Border Guard it was difficult for beasts to rampage, but in areas where safety routes were not yet firmly established sightings of monsters and beasts had increased.

When monsters or beasts were driven into one place, colonies sometimes formed clusters of those driven together gathering into groups. There were only a few harpies, but leaving them unchecked might prove troublesome later.

Besides, it wouldn't take much effort to handle them so there was no reason to ignore them.

"I'll go."

Rem spoke up and Enkrid nodded. To ordinary travellers or merchants it would have been a significant threat, but not to Rem.

As the western barbarian kicked his horse into motion, the thudding of hooves against the dry ground sent clouds of dust billowing into the air.

It hadn't rained for days, leaving the land dry and parched. As Audin watched the swirling dust particles for a moment, he opened his mouth.

"I used to be an inquisitor."

If spreading rumors about himself was an act of self-harm, then this was a true confession.

"I see."

Enkrid's response was the same as always. Audin shared his past with him—a brief story, simple and stripped of embellishments.

Orphaned, raised by a priest he regarded as a father, the doubts he gained while judging heretics and the life he led after leaving the church. He left out the reasons for coming to Border Guard or any revelations he gained along the way.

Enkrid thought Audin had no talent for storytelling.

"Hmm."

He offered no empathy, nor did he pass judgment. He simply accepted it for what it was.

After all, who was he to say anything?

What could he do by dredging up someone's past?

Tell them to live better?

Warn them not to repeat the same mistakes?

What right did he have to say such things?

As an inquisitor, Audin had sent some people to the church's prison. Revealing this he wondered to himself: Were they truly sinners?

Now, he didn't think so. Then, for what purpose had he captured them?

As he talked, he felt as though his thoughts were settling into place. It was a strange thing.

Enkrid, while offering no comfort listened intently. Without negligence or dismissal, he listened earnestly and that alone helped Audin feel a little better.

"The church being rotten probably isn't your fault."

Enkrid stated it as a fact, neither comforting nor empathizing. Audin didn't respond by saying he thought so, too. Whether the church was corrupt or not, his sins wouldn't vanish.

It was similar to the way Enkrid approached life. Everyone said it was impossible, but since he decided to become a knight he simply lived that way.

Audin's heart was the same. He followed what he believed. Everyone's perspectives differed and so did the values they placed on life.

Enkrid never tried to fix or blame someone's way of thinking. If he forced his way onto someone, would it really be right for them?

Who could say?

It wasn't his place to force anything.

Everyone lived by their own will.

Of course, Audin wasn't so easily swayed by a few words. If he were, he wouldn't have reached his current level of skill.

Resolve, will, determination— Without those, overcoming walls and advancing would have been impossible. As he spoke with Audin, Enkrid resolved a dilemma he had been grappling with in his swordsmanship.

'Strength of will.'

To remain firm and unyielding. Had he become hasty after glimpsing a shred of talent?

Had he been intoxicated by seeing others support him?

Lately, he had struggled with his technique Wave-breaker Sword, which added a counterforce.

With his experience in many sword techniques, his instincts urged him to find a way around the problem. He had sworn to resolve it before reaching Border Guard, but now he realized that wasn't the answer.

Rushing ahead wasn't always the correct path.

'The method itself isn't wrong.'

It simply wasn't the right approach for his current self. For someone else, finding a detour might be appropriate.

Each person lived in their own way and the Wave-breaker Sword would find its own path, too. Refining techniques was something he always did.

Under the autumn sun, their return journey was uninterrupted by rain or the need to rest in caves. Along the way, they stopped by Jaltenburg.

In a tavern, Enkrid sparred lightly with a mercenary eager to test his skills and nobles and merchants swarmed him after someone recognized him.

"You won't cut off my head, will you?"

One noble, trembling at the sight of Rem asked nervously. Rem had tried hard to improve his reputation, but rumors persisted.

A madman who splits the heads of nobles with an axe after losing his parents to one.

"Dammit, why would my parents be killed by nobles? I'm a Westerner—there's no concept of nobility where I'm from."

Rem was frustrated, but he didn't vent his anger on the nobles before him. While there were no bandits, sightings of monsters or beasts gathering couldn't be ignored.

Whenever they appeared, Rem took the chance to stretch his limbs.

"I send you to the Lord!"

Audin occasionally stepped forward to fight and Enkrid learned a few aspects of his martial arts from him. It wasn't a bad study.

Having real combat and skilled teachers around was invaluable. Rem grumbled at him from time to time, but it was part of their routine.

"A proper knight should understand with just one word. You're hopeless."

In terms of dueling, it was hard to say who would win but Rem said what he felt he needed to. And he wasn't wrong. Through these experiences, they finally returned to Border Guard where Enkrid resumed his usual days of training and sparring.

As Krang had advised, it was time to eat well and build strength.

Then, Enkrid formally announced the founding of a knightly order in Border Guard.

"'Madmen Knights'? Why would you name it that..."

Krais shook his head, but it was too late—the official name had already spread. The news travelled faster and farther than they had expected, across the continent.

The founding of a new knightly order?

It was an event people hadn't heard of in a long time.

Rumors of Border Guard's growing strength also spread, thanks to the efforts of Rem and Audin.

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