Eternally Regressing Knight-Chapter 621 - A Gift

Chapter 621 - A Gift

Audin had decided to pause his unit’s training, which he had been postponing, to become an audience member instead.

As a result, rumors spread that the holy unit under his command praised their deity for watching over them in unison.

While the deity’s name might not have been Shinar, perhaps being pummeled by Audin was enough to make one reconsider even a deity’s name temporarily.

Enkrid, however, merely let such stories enter one ear and leave the other.

He was far too engrossed in savoring every aspect of Shinar’s demonstration, biting into it with fervor, dissecting it thoroughly, and deriving every ounce of enjoyment.

The unique fairy swordsmanship ceaselessly stimulated his inspiration.

For prodigies, this might simply serve as a path to explore different approaches to swordsmanship. But for Enkrid, it was different.

Inspiration surged, filling him with euphoria, and a sense of joy swept through his body, an emotion he only experienced in moments of growth and advancement.

It burned within him like a red-hot iron, setting his soul aflame.

How could he not find this exhilarating?

"Be careful."

Shinar returned once more, issuing a warning as she swung her sword.

The Leaf Blade transformed again.

Its blade suddenly split into five branches, and its surface widened.

It resembled a poorly crafted fan.

As he closely observed the expanding Leaf Blade, Enkrid felt a current of energy stirring within it.

"Is it magical?"

After all, it was said to be a magical sword, an elder’s weapon, and a companion of the fairies.

Knights wield engraved weapons, and when they reach a certain level of mastery, they use heirloom weapons. According to Luagarne, Frogs utilized something called fusion weapons.

Beastkin and giants also used engraved weapons, albeit through slightly different crafting methods.

For the fairies, their companion weapons changed shape according to their will, guided by the energy flowing through them.

While the altered blade didn’t seem suitable for combat, the swordsmanship it produced was far from ordinary.

Slashes executed by tilting the blade were not only swift but also struck at difficult-to-block angles, while strikes using the sword’s flat side had the force of Theresa’s shield bash at full power.

Even though Theresa was considered at the level of a junior knight, she was a half-giant.

Her shield strikes were undeniably powerful.

Yet, Shinar’s flat strikes with the blade exhibited the same ferocity while maintaining a speed as if shedding all wind resistance.

"It’s the same speed, whether it slashes or strikes."

This seemed to be the key.

It could be described as swordsmanship that danced upon the wind.

If the spring sword summoned breezes and the summer sword unleashed torrential rain, then this sword soared along the wind.

Perhaps that’s why it was named Falling Leaves—because it swayed like autumn leaves in the wind?

Strikes and blows came endlessly, each movement falling with a precision akin to the natural grace of autumn leaves.

If spring was green and summer vibrant, this day’s demonstration radiated red energy—a hue deeper than sunset but not a bright crimson of fresh blood.

Enkrid endured, immersed in the sheer delight of the swordsmanship, until the session finally concluded.

Sweat glistened on Shinar’s forehead.

For a fairy to perspire during the middle of winter signaled the immense effort she had poured into the sparring.

Enkrid, still lost in the thrill of Shinar’s demonstration, asked, "Will tomorrow bring winter?"

Shinar responded with a faint smile. "It will be entertaining."

On the fourth day, Shinar’s demonstration indeed showcased the winter swordsmanship, aptly named Ember.

Shinar’s weapon, her elder sword, narrowed and thinned to match the blade of the Spark in Enkrid’s hands.

The swordsmanship she demonstrated was nothing short of its name.

The white-glowing blade flickered like an ember, vanishing in a flash before appearing as a stabbing light. A relentless series of thrusts ensued—swift and solely offensive, with no regard for defense.

Unlike the summer’s torrential strikes that drained stamina and forced defensive measures, this technique threatened to create a hole in one’s body with a single failed block.

Each strike was lethal, prioritizing offense over defense.

However, its focus on offense also left vulnerabilities, as missing even a single target could lead to the technique’s collapse.

It was swordsmanship befitting the name Ember—ephemeral, intense, and all-consuming.

In the fairy language, the spring sword was called Naeir, and the winter sword Nier. Delving deeper, Dr- was the elongated pronunciation for ’sword,’ but the fairies used a mix of stress, short vowels, and long vowels in their language. Therefore, even if one pronounced it as Del, it wouldn’t necessarily mean ’sword.’ For a human like Enkrid, understanding this much was sufficient.

The embers flew swiftly, their movements sharp and fierce, their size diminutive enough to become invisible when concentration faltered. In a state of deep focus, Enkrid blocked, deflected, and evaded, until Shinar’s voice broke through.

"Beyond embers lies a shooting star."

While Shinar’s thrusts were piercingly sharp, she wasn’t fighting with her full strength, allowing Enkrid to defend successfully.

Her strikes were precise and pointed, the twisting blade slicing deeply into his cheek, leaving blood streaming down his face.

"That was dangerous," remarked Audin.

Seiki, who had somehow become a spectator, stepped forward and cast a healing light on Enkrid’s cheek.

"It’ll heal quickly."

"No need to fuss over it."

"Plenty of people seem to care if your face gets scarred."

Seiki’s unnecessary comment earned no response from Enkrid.

Despite the glowing light, the wound didn’t heal instantly.

Seiki was still inexperienced in wielding divine power, wasting much of the energy.

"Are you enjoying yourself?"

Shinar’s calm gaze settled on Enkrid as she posed the question.

Enkrid nodded, a serene smile gracing his face.

Despite the wound on his cheek, the fairy’s seasonal swordsmanship had ignited a storm of inspiration within him.

"Then that’s enough," Shinar replied with a faint smile.

Her usually indifferent gaze softened with subtle satisfaction.

That night, just before bed, Shinar summoned Enkrid.

"What is it?"

"Let’s take a walk."

Enkrid complied.

"Are you going on a midnight date?" Rem teased from behind.

Enkrid ignored him and followed Shinar, while Rem didn’t pursue an answer—it was merely a reflexive jab.

Shinar often sought Enkrid out, though recently it was mostly to request warmth in the cold weather. frёewebηovel.cѳm

As they walked outside, the sky was thick with clouds, obscuring the stars and leaving the moonlight dim.

Would it snow tomorrow?

The air had grown even colder, a testament to the depths of winter.

Their breaths lingered in the air, long and faint.

The two walked silently, as if enjoying a casual stroll.

The night air carried a dampness, but it wasn’t unpleasant for walking.

The occasional call of winter birds and the sight of resilient grass thriving in the cold greeted them as they passed.

"Stubborn, aren’t they?"

As Shinar paused by the grass and spoke, she turned her body, standing still.

Despite the darkness around them, the two could precisely sense where the other’s eyes were.

Their heightened senses made it possible.

Eyes that were supposed to be blue or green glimmered faintly in the darkness.

With their gazes locked, Shinar opened her mouth, her tone indifferent.

"Do you truly have no intention of marrying me?"

It was refreshing.

She hadn’t been joking much lately, and now she summoned him just to say this.

"Since when were we mixing blood?"

"Does it trouble you?"

"It seems troublesome, doesn’t it?"

"Then, did you like the joke?"

Enkrid was reminded of the first time he had heard a fairy joke.

"I think it was right before meeting Leona."

It was a day that could have been forgotten, yet it stuck with him vividly.

He’d been so flustered back then that he’d wanted to kick Jaxen, who was laughing at his expense.

"No, I don’t."

Enkrid scratched his cheek as he answered.

It wasn’t really a difficult question—just another mischievous joke, as usual.

"I see."

Without a trace of a smile, Shinar turned her back.

She had spent the past four days demonstrating swordsmanship like a crazed fairy.

"It was fun."

She muttered as she turned away.

The tone of her words was markedly different from when she had first teased him.

"It was fun."

She had said the same words back then, but compared to now, as she walked away, there wasn’t a shred of emotion in her voice.

If her words had carried even a hint of regret, Enkrid might have asked why.

But since they didn’t, he simply let her go.

The fairy walked away in her usual gait, with the same steps and pace as always.

Three days later, Shinar disappeared.

Enkrid thought nothing of it at first, but even after three days had passed, she did not return.

"She left a letter?"

It was during a break after morning training when Krais handed it to him.

"Where did you find it?"

"She’s been gone for three days without a word, so I checked her room."

"Oh, I see."

Technically, Shinar belonged to the Madmen Knights Order, so no one could really question her departure.

Krais probably checked the room because it was left unused, possibly asking his lover to do so rather than going himself.

Understanding the situation roughly, Enkrid took the letter.

Shinar seemed to have anticipated that someone would read the letter after her departure.

The elegant handwriting on the envelope made it clear.

"To Enkrid. Anyone else who reads this will become a sprouting potato."

It was a curse.

Looking at the fairy-style profanity, Enkrid opened the letter.

Breaking the wax seal with his fingers, he pulled out the paper inside.

The material didn’t seem particularly expensive.

The message was brief.

"I’ll wait for your proposal`."

Enkrid let out a small laugh, like air escaping.

Even as she left, she couldn’t resist making a joke. Truly, she was a fairy who was impossible to win against.

"What does it say?"

Krais asked. Enkrid flipped the letter and showed it to him.

"Should I call this impressive? But why did she leave without saying anything?"

"She probably has something to do."

Though she was technically part of the Madmen unit, Shinar wasn’t inherently tied to the kingdom.

He vaguely recalled something Krang had once said—something about her having certain obligations.

Enkrid wasn’t particularly worried about Shinar’s departure.

It was her judgment and choice, and he respected it.

He would have reacted similarly to anyone else leaving, just as he had when Dunbakel said she was heading east.

He simply accepted it in his heart.

And so, life went on as usual.

"It’s time for training."

In the mornings, he pushed his body to its limits alongside Audin.

"Stay focused. Today’s going to be harsher."

He sparred with Rem.

"Everyone, run!"

He dedicated himself to training his unit.

The only change was that his meditation sessions grew longer.

"Precise sword, heavy sword, deceptive sword, swift sword, soft sword."

Leonecis Oniac, the genius, had categorized swordsmanship into these five types.

"Are these five all there is to swordsmanship?"

The answer was no.

Even if he could go back in time and ask Leonecis directly, the answer would likely be the same.

"The five are just the basics."

Derivations were separate.

What he had learned, practiced, and internalized thus far, combined with the fairy’s Four Seasons Swordsmanship he had recently studied, came together.

Shinar had deliberately excluded environmental factors to focus purely on the art of swordsmanship itself.

"It was a sword meant to be shown."

The four seasonal forms of swordsmanship couldn’t be neatly defined by the five categories of precise, heavy, deceptive, swift, and soft.

Basics, derivations, experience.

In the moment when these elements intertwined, Enkrid felt something explode in his mind.

It was the moment when the inspiration Shinar had gifted him ripened and bore fruit.

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