A Knight Who Eternally Regresses

Among them was the gatekeeper Squad Leader who had been guarding the gate this morning.

The Squad Leader watched and was amazed.

‘That’s a perfectly insane bastard.’

He saw everything Encrid did, covered in the blood of beasts and monsters.

‘Is he crazy?’

Running away covered in blood? What about that panther?

Using the panther as bait to escape? No, that couldn’t be.

The problem was the direction. After crawling, Encrid went deeper into the enemy lines.

It was a route that no sane person would choose.

The Squad leader also witnessed Encrid killing a knoll that was behind them.

After seeing everything, how could anyone call him normal?

Only then did the words of Krais, the Big Eyes, resonate with him.

“They call him the Madmen Platoon Leader in the Border Guard.”

A truly insane bastard, and because he was doing such crazy things, his heart raced.

Just watching was unbearable.

The Squad leader was smart and quick-witted.

Seeing the situation unfold, he realized there was a spy or something similar within the mercenary group.

‘What if he hadn’t acted?’

If he hadn’t done such a crazy thing? If they had left the spy alone? What would have happened then?

This village? That pack of knolls? Even with just the hundreds of hyena beasts, could they handle that?

Absolutely not, only the worst outcome awaited, where no one would survive.

Because that man did something crazy, the outcome changed.

The knoll standing behind, its movements were unusual. Even from this distance, there was an afterimage left by its movements.

It was clearly the leader of the colony.

That madman killed it.

‘How long could we have held out?’

If the leader knoll had survived and controlled the colony? What would have happened if it had led them?

He don’t know. The only thing certain is that he would have been a dead man.

Deutsche Pullman thought the same. They both watched, so how different could it be?

They agreed on two things and acted.

That Encrid was insane.

And that he absolutely should not be allowed to die.

How could they let the hero who saved themselves and their comrades die, even if he was insane?

Both Deutsche and the Squad leader felt the same and acted accordingly.

Ultimately, their choice was right.

Esther’s remarkable efforts, Encrid’s fierce fighting, and the resistance of Deutsche and his men.

All of these elements came together, and as Encrid’s group narrowly entered, a rock fell from above.

“Die!”

Someone, cleverly, had found a rock and dropped it from the wall.

With a thud, a round rock the size of a person’s head fell on the back of a hyena beast.

Crack.

The rock, crushing bone and muscle, rolled to the side with a thump. The ribs protruded between the entrails, sprawled on the ground.

Groan!

A knoll nearby, hit in the head with a rock, clutched its head and collapsed.

The nearby quarry and the collected rocks made it possible.

“Shoot!”

Afterward, the arrows that rained down on the enemies became beautiful ornaments for them.

The leaderless enemies began to scatter, fleeing in all directions.

“We survived.”

Returning, Encrid spoke calmly, as if he had just been out for a stroll, casually organizing his gear.

He laid down his blood-stained sword and began to take off his armor.

There were a few bruises and injuries visible on his body.

He had pushed himself because dodging everything wouldn’t have allowed him to break through.

These were intentional injuries for Encrid, but how would it seem to those watching?

“Damn it.”

Deutsche muttered.

He looked at Encrid, dumbfounded.

How could he be so calm? Why is he so composed?

It was as if his guts were so swollen they could be left anywhere.

“Now I think we need an explanation.”

Deutsche said, sitting down. His tone indicated that he had come to accept the other party, acknowledging that he had barely survived as well.

“Yeah, sure.”

Encrid nodded. He wasn’t acting recklessly anymore. He was calm and composed.

How could he be so collected at a moment like this?

‘A completely unreadable guy.’

Deutsche thought to himself but held his tongue.

After all, this was the man who had saved him and everyone else.

Encrid was more than an expert at coming up with excuses. This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened.

It was something he had done countless times before.

“I was doing my morning workout. I recognized the faces of the two guys on the watchtower.”

An excuse doesn’t need to be perfect. It just needs to make sense. The matter was already resolved, so who would question it now?

“That’s when it hit me, those guys were cultists. I had seen them in passing during my mercenary days, but it took me too long to remember.”

There was no sincerity in his words.

It sounded like he was just saying whatever came to mind.

It seemed like a lie. Even upon reflection, it felt like, ‘Just take it as it is’.

Deutsche felt uneasy, but as Encrid had predicted, he couldn’t pursue it further.

In the end, Encrid’s words were true, and the matter was already settled.

He had captured cultists, after all.

And the man before him was indeed the hero who had saved him.

“They are no longer in sight.”

The words came from atop the wall. It was Krais. When did he get up there?

No, upon reflection, it made sense.

Who else could have prepared and thrown the stones if not him?

It wasn’t the chaotic vigilantes.

It was Krais’s doing. He had persuaded the workers and craftsmen to throw the stones.

As soon as Krais finished speaking, those gathered on the wall and watchtower began to speak.

“The enemies are retreating!”

“Phew. We survived.”

“Oh.”

“Ha.”

Workers, vigilantes, and other residents all worked together to stop the monster horde and defend the wall.

They survived just before death, as if someone had pulled them back from the brink of falling off a cliff.

How could they not be grateful?

They turned their gaze to the person who had pulled their sleeve.

A man with black hair and blue eyes stood there.

“Why? It’s true.”

He was asserting in a very dry tone that what he was saying was true.

But no one paid attention to what he said, not even Deutsche.

“Let’s do that.”

That was all he said.

What’s important is knowing why they survived, which isn’t hard if you’re not a fool.

“Who did you say that guy was?”

It was one of the craftsmen who had come out to build the wall. He asked Krais.

They had become friendly over the past few days.

Krais, sitting down on the top of the barricade—what could be called a gallery if it were a wall—spoke, as he felt weak in the legs.

“Encrid, he’s a madman.”

That guy is completely crazy, how did he run out there to fight?

“Right?”

Esther, who had somehow appeared, nodded in agreement.

Krais looked at Esther. It was the first time they shared the same opinion.

Esther was equally astonished.

She had agreed to watch his back, and then he went and nearly got himself killed.

Had things gone slightly wrong, her important item for breaking her curse could have been damaged.

“Kyaa kyaa!”

Esther, who was clearly displeased, made a noise.

“Yes, yes, he’s mad.”

The craftsman who had been listening nearby mumbled to himself, repeating Encrid’s name.

“Encrid, Encrid, no, it doesn’t roll off the tongue. Madman’s Wall, yes, that’s better.”

“Huh?”

Krais turned his head, and the craftsman, as if making a decision, spoke with conviction.

“The name of the wall that will be built later.”

“Is it okay to name the wall like that?”

‘Should I stop him? No, I let it go.’

After all, even Krais was too exhausted to intervene, his legs completely drained of strength.

“Madman Encrid Wall, maybe that’s better.”

Meanwhile, the craftsman was contemplating a second option on his own.

The sun was setting. The day was about to end.

* * *

As soon as Luagarne heard Encrid’s words, she moved and immediately went to the house of the man identified as a cultist.

Finding him was easy.

It was rare to find someone who would resist Frog’s questions.

The cultist was lying with a woman. When ignored and called out, he came to the door half-dressed, and Luagarne confirmed his face.

It was the man who had been following Deutsche Pullman around like a freshwater fish.

“Is it him?”

Upon seeing him, Luagarne immediately asked. The man tilted his head, then awkwardly replied.

“Yes? What do you need?”

The man showed a friendly smile, but Frog’s discerning eye found it anything but pleasant.

He looked like a fish head, after all.

The man’s expression seemed to say, ‘Do I need to explain what’s going on?’

‘Is it him?’

Or not?

Luagarne questioned internally and performed a simple test. This would serve as an answer to the expression.

She stepped forward and threw a punch. It wasn’t a lethal strike, just a test.

Considering the possibility that he might be a cultist, there was some force behind it, but it was still just a test.

Of course, to the man, it was nothing of the sort.

Frog, a natural-born warrior, had intended to land a blow. The punch, delivered with a twist of the right ankle, would have shattered his head if it connected.

The man instinctively sensed the danger and reacted.

A brief hum.

Thump!

Simultaneously, Luagarne’s hand was blocked by a translucent barrier. It was milky and murky.

It wasn’t a spell. Luagarne had hunted down and destroyed more cultists than even an inquisitor.

She recognized it. It was a unique protective power of the cultists. So, it was the correct answer. Encrid’s memory had been spot on.

“It’s him.”

Frog’s cheeks puffed up with a mix of joy, excitement, and anticipation.

“How did you know!”

As soon as the cultist realized his identity was exposed, he moved. He stomped the ground twice with his left foot. Despite being called a heretical cult, the followers of the Cult of the Demon Realm did not easily decrease.

Why is that?

Because it so easily transformed lives by granting power.

The power he had acquired since becoming a priest shone.

With two stomps, the man’s figure disappeared.

Slash!

Luagarne’s whip lashed the ground where he had vanished.

The dirt was gouged out to the depth of a finger joint.

‘This bastard, huh?’

As soon as he thought things had gone awry, instead of relying on the barrier, the guy fled immediately?

It wasn’t a teleportation spell. Such a high-level spell wouldn’t be so easily cast.

What he used was a power that accelerated his body in a short time.

This was also familiar.

At one time, catching such individuals was Luagarne’s job.

“Hmph, just a Frog.”

A voice was heard. About ten steps away? Maybe a little more.

“I’m a priest. Do you want to die? Then come. I’ll use you as fertilizer for the expansion of our faith.”

Gurgle.

Go ahead, make it easier for me by trying to kill me.

Frog, Luagarne, responded to the arrogant taunt not with words but with action. She kicked off the ground.

Bang!

It was a charge.

The priest of the Cult of the Demon Realm quickly stomped his right foot twice again.

This time, it was the power of levitation.

Swish!

Thanks to acceleration and levitation, he narrowly avoided the whip that sliced through the air where he had been.

“If I catch you, I’ll start by ripping out your tongue.”

Luagarne said cheerfully, puffing out her cheeks as she spoke.

The priest, deciding it was time to flee, took off.

Luagarne chased after the cultist, and they ended up playing a game of cat and mouse almost all day.

In the end, Luagarne lost him.

She chased the man for a full day, but the cultist had a trump card: summoning magic. He was a troublesome opponent.

Because of the creatures he summoned, Luagarne had to give up the chase to deal with them.

“We’ll meet again!”

The cultist had shouted as he fled, and Luagarne hoped there was some truth in his words. Now that she knew his opponent’s tactics.

‘Next time, I’ll break his legs first.’

Only her resolve had changed.

Luagarne returned late at night.

As she circled back around the quarry, she finally saw signs of battle in front of the pioneer village.

What is this? The traces alone indicated that something fierce had happened.

The signs of battle, the blood-soaked ground and walls, the scent of excited humans, and the stench of blood filled the air. The atmosphere was quite peculiar.

It was gloomy yet not entirely so.

In the midst of it all, the man who had been the reason Luagarne had not returned earlier was visible.

The man named Encrid.

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